Chapter Text
In the darkest regions of space, a red planet was blanketed by the veil of darkness and stars. It swirled with violent storms from within.
Two irregularly shaped moons orbited around it—one close, one far. A space station could be seen drifting around the planet between the two moons. The station was a small satellite with a circular arc.
Just within distance was a flash of light that appeared near the station before a silver train warped into view. It ran on an invisible rail—Akivili’s path —before sliding onto the station's dock and attaching itself to its rails. The train stopped just before the end of the station’s terminal.
“Arrival at Station 720.” A brief announcement preceded a soft chime.
A tall, white-haired young man in a white trench coat stepped out of the automatic doors of the train and onto the metal platform. His gold and blue cape rustled behind him as he walked through the terminal. The sun tattoo on the side of his neck was partly hidden by a brown choker.
He was the only passenger aboard.
“Welcome back, Phainon!” A white drone hovered before the man, its voice cheery but robotic. The little robot looked like a white jellyfish with three metal tendrils protruding from beneath it. Its small ears flapped atop its head as it drifted towards him. Its black screen flickered to life, revealing a red, smiling icon.
“Thanks.” Phainon smiled back at the drone. “Do you know where Anaxa is?”
“I believe you’ll find Anaxa in the main lab,” it replied. “Would you like me to accompany you?”
“It’s alright, thank you.”
The drone gave an affirmative as the emote on its screen returned to normal. Phainon watched from the corner of his eye as it drifted towards the train that he had just gotten off of. It started scanning the train for any damage or malfunctions before the next travel.
His footsteps echoed through the metal halls, answered only by the faint whir of the passing drones.
Only he and Anaxa lived here.
Station 720 had been a gift from Madam Herta after Anaxa mentioned the Imaginary Tree. The drones came with it—paid for casually, like pocket change. Although it took a while to get used to, Phainon hadn’t minded the drones because they completed the basic tasks of cleaning, cooking, and managing ordinary tasks that Anaxa rarely spared attention for.
He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor.
As the elevator rose, his thoughts drifted back to the time before Amphoreus had become real. Phainon secluded himself at home for a few months after finally obtaining peace.
He had never been so relieved to see his family and friends back alive again in Aedes Elysiae. However, it had taken him a year to confront the feelings he had long since buried before his heroic journey.
His heart ached as he remembered how it had taken several years after that to convince Anaxa to start over again.
Phainon's mind drifted to his memories as the elevator hum reminded him of the wind through the golden fields back home.
Wheat surrounded Phainon. The fields looked as though they would have lasted forever, only to be cut off by the shimmering lake with an old pier connected to a small boat in the distance. On the other side were the stone walls surrounding the village of Aedes Elysiae. A lone tree stood tall within sight, its branches holding bundles of warm autumn leaves.
Anaxa was standing before him. His long, mint hair bound in a gold band. Phainon eyed the decorative eyepatch covering his left eye—the one he sacrificed to see his sister again, a wound that plagued Phainon for multiple cycles.
Anaxa was just within arm's reach. Composed and ethereal, yet… untouchable.
Unlike him.
“… Phainon, you shouldn’t dwell so much on the past. We’ve only been together in the first cycle,” Anaxa said. “The world outside of Amphoreus is beyond our imagination. I’m sure you’ll find someone more suited for you than I…”
“—at least someone who didn’t choose to leave you every cycle for the truth.”
Phainon's chest tightened, and he swallowed. He had lost count of how many times Anaxa had used this excuse.
“What makes you think I would find someone else?” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Someone that’s not you. Someone who wouldn’t treat me as some hero.”
“You confuse longing with gratitude,” Anaxa said, looking away. “Your role as the Deliverer is over. You’re no longer bound to a title that defined every choice you made.”
The wheat field around them swayed with the wind, and Anaxa glanced at the sunset, finally falling silent.
Mint breeze, which he used to find comfort in, tasted bitter and dry.
Phainon unsteadily took a deep breath as he took a step forward.
“Then…” he reached out, cupping the other's jaw to bring his gaze back towards him. “Why do you keep coming back?”
Anaxa looked at him, and Phainon glimpsed a waver of emotion in the sage's eye before it was drowned in cold aqua.
“It was to make sure there were no lasting effects on your health.” Anaxa’s voice was sharp and cutting. “Now remove yourself.”
Phainon didn’t. Instead, he brought him closer until their bodies were almost touching. The sage’s breath hitched at the hand on his waist. “Your actions say otherwise, Anaxa.”
No longer did he refer to Anaxa as Professor. Not here. Not now.
Not when he wanted them to be so much more.
Anaxa placed his hands between them as though to push him away. Phainon felt the small tremble from the body, so much smaller than his.
He gently grasped Anaxa's hand with one of his own, keeping the other cautiously firm on the sage's waist. His own was rough, worn from years of fighting, compared to the one before him, who was used to handling papers and ink.
“My feelings for you have never changed. Not once,” Phainon continued. “Do you truly believe that I would find someone else?”
“… The world is vast, Phainon.”
“Then,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “If you feel nothing, say it. I won’t ask again.”
Anaxa opened his mouth a few times, but then pursed his lips when no words came out. He tilted his head forward, his long bangs obscuring his face.
The warrior released the tension from his muscles when he saw the quiver of emotion in the aqua eye. He pulled the scholar closer, who leaned in.
“… Let’s start over again.” Phainon brought Anaxa's hand up and gently brushed his lips over the delicate fingers.
“—as ourselves.”
The elevator doors slid open.
He stepped out into the corridor. Large windows lined the corridors, opening onto the vastness of space, with the red planet visible from a distance.
Thirty-three million cycles, and he was tired.
They had left Amphoreus to be themselves.
Sometimes they still returned—for family, for obligation.
His lips curled into a small smile. Never had he expected Anaxa to be nervous about meeting his parents. Without millions of cycles behind him, he might have never noticed how uncomfortable Anaxa was around his parents.
While he would never deny that he missed his friends and family, this station was a sanctuary.
The door before him opened automatically, and Phainon entered the main lab only to find it empty. The advanced lab equipment was being cleaned by the drones whirling around it. They waved at him as they continued their work—replacing the vials, placing the labeled bottles back on the shelf, and separating the trash accordingly. One of them, a robot with some gray parts, signaled the office next door with an exclamation icon.
He gave a small wave and headed for the office next door. Sometimes, technology amazed him with its perception.
That had been the same drone he had broken a year ago.
“It’s from the constant observation of your behavior and pattern recognition,” Anaxa said as he tinkered with the drone on the bed. He exhaled. “Meaning that every time you come back, you always come looking for me.”
Phainon hugged Anaxa from behind a little tighter.
“You shouldn’t worry so much,” Anaxa assured him. “They’re not lifeforms like the Intellitron.”
The white robotic drone had malfunctioned when Phainon accidentally exposed it to his power—a destructive path he abhorred but accepted out of necessity. The drone had come too close when he was testing a theory Anaxa proposed.
Neither of them had expected how little power it would take to damage it.
Fortunately, the researcher had figured out how to fix it—it whirled back to life after replacing some parts.
The same drone had always told him where Anaxa was. Phainon had felt bad when it distanced itself from him after that incident.
He made sure not to unleash his destructive abilities at home since then.
The office doors slid open, and he heard a soft but familiar voice talking to the screen. He stopped just before the entrance to see Anaxa sitting with his back towards him.
Anaxa was in mid-conversation with his sister, Diotima.
Diotima’s aqua eyes lit up from the screen when she saw Phainon. Her shorter hair and eyes were of a darker green than Anaxa’s, and she wore glasses, but there was no denying the resemblance between the two siblings. “Phainon! I see you’re back. We were just talking about you.”
“Hey Diotima.” Phainon walked closer to the computer, leaning over with a hand on the metal table. He placed his other hand on Anaxa’s shoulder in greeting. His gaze softened when Anaxa’s fingers brushed his in return—lifting his feelings. He turned his attention back to the sister. “Haha. Good things, I hope.”
She giggled before speaking. “Yes, but sadly, it’s our little secret conversation. So I can’t tell you.”
He blinked at the deflection and the suspicious wink she gave him. He turned to Anaxa, trying to keep his composure. “What were you two talking about?”
“Sister, I warned you against spending so much time with Calypso. You even picked up her teasing habits,” Anaxa said, giving Phainon a momentary glance. “Now look at what you’ve done.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Diotima said, her voice still containing mirth. “We were actually talking about how we should all meet on Amphoreus. I’ve talked to your parents, Phainon, and it’s been a while since we all had dinner together.”
Oh, a family dinner. He thought as his muscles relaxed. “When?”
“Within a month, that way you two will have time before traveling here.”
“That sounds wonderful.” He smiled as Diotima laughed.
“Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds be for now. Bye and love you, Naxy!” The screen blinks black.
Anaxa sighed as he leaned back into his seat. He was still in his white lab coat and had just come out of an experiment. “How was your trip?”
Phainon had left for a week to answer an emergency call from the Astral Express.
“It was… eventful,” He answered as he placed both hands on Anaxa’s shoulders. Chaotic, more like it. “My partner needed my help to talk to their government and get them out of a difficult situation.”
“Oh?” Anaxa’s long hair shifted as he leaned into the massage.
He chuckled. “I hadn’t known that there were places that required someone from another planet to represent them.”
“Lushaka, was it?” Anaxa suppressed a sound. “Wouldn’t Hysilens have been better suited?”
Hysilens, their siren friend, would have thrived on the planet made of mostly water.
“Perhaps.” Phainon casually slipped off Anaxa’s lab coat to provide a better touch. Without the cotton fabric, he could feel the warmth emanating through the silk, and he relished its smooth texture. The researcher had always preferred the comfortable feeling of the featherlight material. And he was more than happy to provide the luxury. “But I don’t think she would have been suited for diplomatic intervention. And I’ve heard that she has a concert coming up on another planet soon.”
“At least… it’s been… resolved.”
Anaxa covered his mouth as Phainon worked the knots from his neck. The top buttons of his dress shirt had been unbuttoned and the collar askew to bare one of his slender shoulders. His skin heated under the touch as hands slipped past the fabric.
“—there, a little further… down…”
Phainon felt the pulse throb beneath his touch and saw the delicate, pale skin flush with pleasure.
“Did you have anything else to do?” His voice took a notch deeper as he asked.
Anaxa shook his head. Phainon’s fingers changed their pressure on a particular spot, and his breath hitched as his back arched.
The rhythm was unhurried. Intentional. His breathing turned uneven.
The movement stopped.
“Phainon?” Anaxa swallowed. The heat beneath his skin lingered.
Still expecting Phainon’s touch, he looked up from underneath his hair to see the gold bleeding into the cyan eyes.
Oh.
Their gaze lasted a second longer.
Anaxa tensed, unable to look away.
He gasped. Arms lifted him out of the chair. Anaxa instinctively wrapped his arms around Phainon’s shoulders.
Phainon didn’t slow as he carried Anaxa bridal style toward the bedroom.
“—Phainon! Stop, you just came bac—”
The door slid shut behind them with a muted hiss.
A soft chime rang.
Phainon blearily opened his eyes to the darkness of the bedroom. Anaxa slept heavily in his arms. He reached for his pants on the ground and pulled the telestate from the pocket, mindful not to wake the other.
Another chime.
It was a message from the trailblazer twins.
Caelus: Yo. We found the thing that was confiscated back there. I gave it to Stelle for safekeeping.
Stelle: We’ll see you soon to give it back! And thanks for the help earlier!
A sigh of relief escaped him as he messaged back a thank you and turned his telestate off.
When he arrived, security had confiscated everything he had been carrying. After the trial, the officials returned everything—except one item.
It had been a little frustrating when it looked as though his own stay would have needed to be extended. Thankfully, the Astral Express assured him they would retrieve it and sent him home.
He buried his face in Anaxa’s long hair and breathed deeply.
For once, he hadn’t needed to become a weapon.