Archive of Our Own

Sometimes, he would close his eyes, and when he opened them, he was there. A strange room with dirty yellow walls and hallways that seemed to lead nowhere. He had no memories of it, but for some reason it always felt familiar, like the place where he woke up after a bad dream. His eyes would scan the surroundings looking for a clue, something to tell him what was happening, but the answer was always the same.

"Recurrence 1██522██ has failed. System reboot in 253 hours."

Khaslana would sit there quietly, watching as he waited for the countdown to end. His time in that room was brief and always the same, but he never held onto any real memories of it. There was nothing worth remembering, anyway. He would just stay there, staring into the void while he waited, focused on his mission, never wondering what might lie beyond those dark hallways.

The first flicker of curiosity came one day when he thought it would be nice to have a clock so the wait wouldn't feel endless. And just like that, an hourglass materialized right in front of him.

From that point on, he realized that whatever he desired, he could bring it into existence as long as he thought about it in enough detail. Small objects, more useful things like weapons or books, anything he needed to pass the time. Though it was clear this wasn't a skill he could abuse, because the stranger things would get the bigger and more complex his request.

The first sign was black handprints appearing on the walls along with phrases that seemed suspiciously aimed at him. The second was the constant flickering of the lantern that kept the room lit. And the strangest of all was the sound of breathing somewhere in the distance, lurking in the shadows of the hallway he had no interest in approaching.

But Khaslana never got closer to satisfy his curiosity, because any thought, desire, or intention lost its meaning if he wasn't completely focused on saving Amphoreus. So that room was nothing more to him than the end of one recurrence and the beginning of the next.

At least, that's what it was until the last time it was Khaslana who appeared there.

✧✧✧

The first time "Phainon" appeared was when Khaslana's body could no longer bear the weight of the regressions. The original crumbled into stardust, and it was their consciousnesses that ended up merging, which seemed to be enough to keep the memories of his mission alive and to fail without the fear of never seeing the dawn of Amphoreus.

Khaslana was Phainon and Phainon was Khaslana. Except for one key difference. The years and the failures had shaped Khaslana, turning him into someone calm, mature, with all the patience in the world. But Phainon, young and impossibly stubborn, couldn't sit still for more than 253 hours with nothing important to do. So he quickly left the comfort of the four yellow walls and started making his way down the darkest hallway in the room.

Every Phainon left a mark to show how far he had gotten. Sometimes black arrows, other times a warning sign with a written instruction. But the warning was always the same: be careful. The farther you went, the harder it would be to make it back in time for the next recurrence.

He never managed to explore enough to satisfy his curiosity before time ran out. By the time he found an interesting room or reached a section that looked nothing like the yellow walls, it was time to start over. And it was always the same with every single one of them. They couldn't afford to get lost or make a mistake, so that mysterious stretch of hallway became the splinter they could never quite get out.

For the last recurrence, the true hero of Amphoreus appeared, and Phainon's countdown came to an end. And this time, like so many others, he found himself sitting in the faded yellow room, his memories scrambled and no clock to tell him when he was supposed to go back.

There was no way back to Amphoreus. Whatever happened next, whatever became of Lygus's plans or the destruction of Irontomb, was no longer his responsibility. He had left the future in the hands of those friends who had come from far away to save them, trusting completely that they would be able to carry his wish forward. And rather than fear, what he felt was relief, quiet and certain, spreading across his face in a small smile.

"If I'm going to die, then at least I'm going to explore this whole place before I go."

✧✧✧

His memories were a mess, probably because becoming the head of Irontomb had ended up corrupting millions of recurrences worth of memories, so every hallway and every arrow painted on the wall felt like something new to him. The yellow corridors were endless. Sometimes they had a table or a window, or five different exits that would take you somewhere else entirely. The other Khaslanas and Phainons who had come before him had carefully marked which paths to avoid, so he moved forward with full confidence even through the darkest rooms until he finally reached the last door marking the edge of the yellow zone.

"Danger, monster." It read above the frame.

Beyond the doorway waited a beautiful, endless golden field stretching further than the eye could see. A soft breeze carried with it the pleasant scent of open land and the freshness of the season.

Phainon closed his eyes for a moment, pressing a hand to his chest and breathing in, feeling a warmth bloom somewhere inside him. This place had something special. Something that filled him with nostalgia, almost enough to make him cry. But why? He knew it was an important memory, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite place it. If he kept going, would he find the answer? Or would he just reach another new zone worth discovering?

He glanced at the warning one more time before letting a smile cross his face.

A monster, huh? He'd seen plenty of those in his life. One more or one less wouldn't make much of a difference, would it?

Phainon had never backed down from anything. If a monster showed up, he'd just have to kill it. He could manage that perfectly fine without a weapon. Nothing was going to stop him from exploring this place after spending so long just waiting. Besides, it was always two hundred and fifty-three hours of waiting. If in this last life he had more time to fill, why not spend it exploring?

He wasn't going to sit around waiting for fate to catch up with him again. If the journey had to end, why not end it on his own terms?

He took the first step, then another, and another, until he finally crossed through the door. The brightness forced him to shield his eyes with his forearm, and he squinted as the place slowly came into focus. A golden wheat field swaying gently in the summer breeze. Phainon turned on his heels, looking back for one last glimpse of the door before moving on, and his shoulders fell when he saw that all that remained of it was an empty white frame, half collapsed right where he had just come through.

A one-way road.

Even so.

He breathed in deeply, opening his arms wide.

He didn't know what it was, but this place pulled at him in a way that felt strangely right, like he had just come home and had nowhere else to be. Had the others felt it too? They must have. So how had any of them managed to resist it?

"What are you waiting for?"

Eh?

His eyes went wide and he spun around, searching for the source of the voice. He looked west, at the fences and houses of different colors and sizes. He looked north and found an enormous windmill, then south and east, which had nothing but fake cattle, scarecrows, and more fences surrounding him.

There was no one for miles. So whose voice had he just heard?

Could it be the monster the warning on the door had mentioned? Had he walked straight into a trap?

"Get that hamster you call a brain working," the voice said, amused. "If there's no one around you, it might as well be a voice inside your head, don't you think?"

He blinked and tilted his head, confused.

A voice inside his head? Wouldn't that just be his conscience?

"Ha. I can see you dusting off that brain of yours," it confirmed, still somewhat mocking. "Yes, something like that. I'll act as your conscience for a while. At least until that curiosity of yours gets you killed."

His conscience. Right, so he was starting to get it.

No, no, no. He wasn't getting it at all. A conscience shouldn't have its own voice, should it? He'd understand if it sounded like Khaslana, whose personality was different from his own, but why did this conscience sound like a grumpy teacher somewhere in his mid-thirties? And not just any teacher, but one who was thoroughly fed up with his students.

His imagination wasn't creative enough to come up with something like that, was it?

"Oh, you've got nerve, you little bastard. And here I was planning to help you get through this field. Do you want to find out what's at the end or not? Maybe I should just drop you straight into that monster's mouth and take a vacation."

Ah. Right, it could read his mind.

Hehe.

He'd have to be careful what he thought or he'd keep offending it.

"I'm sorry," he said out loud, with an innocent smile. "I'd really appreciate your help."

The field didn't seem like a place he could get through easily on his own. Sure, he could wander off and jump over the million fences he could see stretching out for miles, but he had no idea what the way out actually looked like. He doubted it would be something as obvious as another door. A little extra guidance would go a long way.

"Good. Now we understand each other," the voice said, more satisfied. "Let's get started then. You see that windmill on the horizon? You need to find the path to it before nightfall."

Phainon turned to look at the houses, in the exact opposite direction of the windmill.

Wouldn't it be safer to take shelter inside one of them during the night? At least until there was enough light to look for the way out.

"Don't be an idiot, student. The houses are a distraction. A stupid trap, if you ask me. The monster that roams this place is used to travelers looking for shelter inside them. The moment the sun goes down, that's the first place it'll come looking for you. Besides, the way out isn't in any of them, so there's no point wasting time over there."

Oh. He hadn't thought of that. And it made a lot of sense. It was an obvious hiding spot, and just as easy to underestimate. If Phainon were a monster, he'd probably wait quietly in a corner until night fell, and once he was sure his prey had taken the bait, he'd hunt them down one by one inside the houses. A monster in a place like this probably had some trick for moving between them quickly.

"You're right."

"Hmpf. Of course I am. Don't you dare doubt me again," it replied with pride, pulling a half smile out of him. "Now let's go, before it's too late."

Phainon nodded.

But there was one last thing on his mind.

"What?"

"What should I call you?"

The voice went quiet.

"My name isn't important."

It was. Especially if they were going to make this journey together.

"If you don't have a name, then..." He brought his fingers to his chin and closed his eyes for a moment. "Can I call you professor?"

"Professor?"

Phainon nodded several times.

"Because you called me student earlier. Oh, and because you talk like a grumpy man who would absolutely teach classes back in my world."

The voice went quiet again, and then burst out laughing inside his head.

"Fine, Phainon. Whatever you want. Now start moving."

✧✧✧

The windmill looked much closer than it actually was. The kind of place you'd think you could reach in a straight line. Except, of course, there were hundreds of meters of white wooden fencing barely reaching his waist cutting across the field, herding him everywhere except where he wanted to go. He could have jumped over all of it and skipped the whole maze, but that was precisely the first thing the professor had warned him against before he'd even bent his knees to jump.

"If you don't follow the rules, it'll all be over for you."

So there he was, walking the longest route yet with his hands behind his head, taking in the beautiful golden field stretching out beyond the fences. The orange sky had begun bleeding into shades of pink, violet, and blue, a sign that night would be falling soon, and with it, the monster would start hunting.

The path ended at a house that didn't match the others. For one, there was a large white house sitting right in the middle of it, and for another, the surrounding area had no wheat at all, just thick green grass.

Probably the neighbor who didn't get along with anyone else on the block.

Hehe.

He circled the house looking for a new fork in the path that would let him keep going, but the fences closed all the way around it, marking a dead end.

Should he turn back and try somewhere else?

He looked at the sky. It didn't seem like he had the time for that.

"Go inside the house and take the first door on the right upstairs."

"Huh? Why?"

The professor himself had said going inside the houses was pointless. Why was he taking it back now?

"Just do it. You'll understand."

Phainon obeyed, not entirely convinced, and stepped carefully into the house. The door shrieked as it opened, like it hadn't been touched in a very long time. He wrinkled his nose at the heavy smell of damp and looked around the dark space before heading up the staircase on the right.

It was a simple house, with remarkable violet and yellow walls. Maybe someday he could paint his own room a color like that. His friends would probably love it. Though, maybe he should finish remembering who his friends were before making plans for the future, right?

Plans that might never happen anyway because he was, what, dead? Who really knew.

Haha.

Focus, Phainon.

He kept looking around. There was a leather couch, a flickering lamp, and the sound of a crackling radio somewhere in the background that he couldn't find anywhere. Other than that, some drawings of heroes on the floor and a crying child drawn on the walls. Nothing worth looking into.

He climbed the stairs to the second floor and stopped, looking at three doors of different colors spread across the hallway. The one the professor wanted had a suspiciously ugly sad face drawn on it.

Ugh.

No. Absolutely not. There was no way he was going in there. The door was black, with red handprints all over it. He wanted to believe, no, he needed to convince himself it wasn't blood. It was just paint. A kid lived here. That had to be it.

"What are you waiting for? An invitation?"

Did he really have to go through that one? There were two other options right there. Couldn't he just take the one with the smiley face? The pretty yellow one. Honestly, even the one with the giant NO on it would be fine. It looked a thousand times safer than where he was supposed to go.

"Why are you hesitating, Phainon?"

Because people don't usually walk into places marked with sad faces and bloody handprints, that's why.

Not that it was blood. It wasn't. Definitely not.

"Stop being a coward and get in there, for crying out loud."

He dropped his head forward dramatically and took a long breath through his nose.

You've got this, Phainon. You have to get out of here.

"Yeah, yeah. Now move."

He opened the door, trying to keep all the adrenaline from showing on his face. He wasn't even going to think about all the bloody scenarios running through his head. Absolutely not. He didn't want to think them into reality.

So he closed his eyes and crossed through all at once, not bothering to look at what was ahead. When he came out the other side, he wasn't in the same house anymore. He'd appeared in a completely different one. The walls were pastel pink and every door was white. There was a small table with four tiny chairs arranged around it, and some deeply unsettling dolls sitting there having tea. His eyes went wide when he noticed the dolls were following him with their gaze.

What the hell?

"Uh, professor?"

"What do you want now?"

Phainon backed away slowly, hands raised.

"Nothing. It's just..."

"Go downstairs and out the back door," the professor interrupted.

He went down quickly, but backwards, never once taking his eyes off the dolls. Only when he was back outside, standing in front of a new stretch of fenced path, did he finally let out all the air he'd been holding.

Ugh.

That had been absolutely terrifying, even if they were just dolls.

He noticed the small patch of green grass around the house, then the golden field closing back in around him. And a little further ahead, the windmill, several kilometers closer than it had been just minutes ago.

"How..." he asked, not quite following.

"Use your brain. I'm not going to hand you every answer."

Phainon laughed quietly.

"You're right. I shouldn't depend on you for everything, should I, professor?"

"Hmpf."

He kept walking, spotting the house he'd entered just minutes ago, faint and blurry on the horizon. That had to be it, right? Because the fences in the yard were blocking the way out. If he went in through that one and came out through another one conveniently close to the windmill, didn't that mean these houses were connected, acting as portals between each other? Going through them in the right order had to be how you found the path.

So what about the smiley face door and the NO one? Where would those have taken him?

What if the smiley face was a trap for the naive? He could have ended up right in front of the monster, or maybe something worse. No. He shook his head. He wasn't going to think about that now.

"Thank you for guiding me, professor."

Without him, he'd probably still be wandering around trying to find the way.

"Don't go getting sentimental on me, Phainon. You'd better walk faster. The sun's about to set."

Oh, right.

✧✧✧

The sun began to sink and the wheat field surrounding the windmill grew hazier and hazier. A strange fog started creeping in around him until Phainon could barely see past his own feet.

"Damn. This is bad."

"Why?"

Seeing fog in a field was normal, especially with temperature changes, wasn't it? What was so bad about it?

The wheat behind him began to stir violently, followed by the sound of something cutting through the stalks. Crack. Crack. Crack. Closer and closer.

A chill ran through him from head to toe and he froze where he stood.

He thought about turning his head to look, but...

If you look back, you're going to die.

He stayed still for a moment, breathing hard, fingers curled into fists. He wanted to believe it was an animal, even though he hadn't seen any around here. It wasn't fully dark yet, there were still a few rays of sun hiding somewhere out there. It couldn't be the monster already, could it?

The sounds in the wheat grew louder, closer and closer. And his heart stopped when he heard a second set of breathing that wasn't his own.

It found you.

"Run."

✧✧✧

Up until now, this place hadn't felt much different from a walk through paradise. No danger, beautiful scenery, the kind of place you could get lost in if you wanted. But now, sprinting through the endless wheat field with his heart in his throat and his feet catching on everything, he was seriously starting to question his judgment.

At least now he knew that all of this, every last bit of it, was real. And the professor was clearly not being very helpful.

"Don't let it touch you. If it does, you'll disappear."

Damn.

Why couldn't he have said that before Phainon just stood there like an idiot?

He kept running, not letting up. At least until he thought he couldn't hear the second set of breathing anymore.

That was when he made the mistake of looking back.

It was a creature the color of crude oil, dripping a thick, sticky liquid. The monster stood still, staring at him without eyes, baring rows of razor-sharp teeth inside its enormous jaw. It smelled like sulfur and rotting garbage. It seemed to rely on hearing, because as long as he didn't move, the monster didn't seem to know where to go.

Except that in his careful attempt to back toward the windmill and throw it off, his body decided it was a perfectly reasonable moment to trip over a rock. The monster launched off its legs and lunged at him in a single bound.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

Phainon rolled out of the way, dodging the attack, and scrambled to his feet as best he could, completely pale, pulling himself up with one hand before he'd fully found his balance. And he took off running again.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Why was he so scared? He was supposed to be dead already!

"Professor! A little help would be really great right now!"

"I'm thinking. Shut up and keep running."

Damn.

Why wasn't he reaching that windmill? He'd been running for minutes. He should have gotten there by now.

"WHY?! Aaaaaaaaaaaa. Professor!"

The creature picked up speed and licked its teeth, like it could already taste him.

Oh no.

Where was he supposed to go? Why the hell couldn't he reach the windmill? That thing was going to catch him and he had nothing to defend himself with. Not that defending himself would even do anything, which was probably why the professor told him not to let it touch him.

What should he do? What should he do? Jump a fence and find cover? No, the fences were too far and it was already dark. It would catch him immediately. So should he do something stupid? He'd already done that!

How could you trip and make that much noise, Phainon Khaslana?!

"Aaaaaaaa, damn it!"

"Stop screaming, you idiot," the professor snapped, frustrated.

"How do you expect me not to scream?! Do you see what's happening right now?!"

A monster was chasing him and he couldn't even look at it without risking his life!

"Get behind that tree."

A tree?

Where?

He looked around frantically until he spotted an enormous tree standing out against the moon on the horizon.

No no no.

"Are you insane, professor?! Wasn't I supposed to be heading for the windmill?!"

Phainon ducked and jumped to the right just as the monster came at him with its claws.

Close. Way too close. He could almost feel its wet breath on him.

"Tsk. That windmill is fake. Can't you tell? Why else wouldn't you be able to reach it?"

Right. He was right. No matter how much he ran, the windmill kept getting further away. If it were the way out, it shouldn't be this hard to get to. So the windmill wasn't the right place after all.

Damn.

Had he just been wasting his time? Should he have gone through the door with the big NO on it?

"Are you sure?"

Phainon pushed harder, just as the monster was about to catch him. He heard its jaws snap shut.

One shot. If this wasn't the way out...

"If you want to get eaten, that's your problem. I've got better things to do."

Ugh, damn it.

"Fine, I get it!"

He took a deep breath and this time, threw himself toward the tree.

✧✧✧

He didn't stop running even when he finally reached the tree, long after the growling and the sound of wheat under his feet had faded. The sky was pitch black, the stars from moments ago had vanished. There was nothing and no one. The professor was saying something, but Phainon couldn't hear him. There was a strange noise inside his head, maybe his own fear drowning everything out. Even so, he made up his mind to ignore it all and throw himself into the hollow between the tree's roots, not particularly caring where the hell he might land this time.

Anything had to be better than facing that monster again.

He ended up dropping onto his back in front of what looked like a forest. And only once Phainon had convinced himself that everything was fine did the professor burst out laughing.

?????????

Was he laughing? Right now?

"That was very entertaining," he said, and Phainon could picture the smile on his face.

"Entertaining?! That thing almost ate me, professor!" Phainon complained, fighting back his own smile.

Damn. He'd nearly died. Why was it so funny now that he was out of danger? Maybe because that strange man kept making it feel like nothing more than a simple game of tag.

The professor kept laughing a little longer.

"Time to look on the bright side, Phainon. And don't think I'd let you die that easily. Not after going to all this trouble to help you."

The bright side?! He couldn't be serious!

He'd love to see him in that situation. The monster would have swallowed him whole. Actually, it might have still been hungry after.

Hmpf. He crossed his arms, pretending to be offended.

"Stop sulking and get up. We still have a long way to go. Besides..." He pictured another smile. "I'm sure you're going to love what's ahead."

What was ahead?

What did he...?

Oh.

Ohh.

Wait, wait.

This was a forest. No, it was just the entrance to a forest.

There was no way those were real skeletons, right?

"Of course they're real. You think someone would go to the trouble of hanging fakes just to scare you?"

"Professor..."

He didn't want to go in there. Obviously not.

No, no, and no. Absolutely not.

"And you don't have to. If you go in, you won't come back out. Why do you think there are so many skeletons?"

"Huh? I don't have to go in?"

Strange.

"Do you want to die? Isn't it common sense to stay away from a forest with hanging skeletons? They say the queen who lives there enjoys skinning her prey alive."

Uhh. Right, common sense. Just like walking through a door marked with a creepy sad face and handprints the color of blood.

Very common, sure.

"Professor, could you maybe not say things like that?"

The professor scoffed.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat things to spare your feelings. You're not a child, Phainon."

Phainon sighed heavily.

"Fine." He changed the subject. "So which way do we go?"

"Walk about a kilometer to the right and you'll find some train tracks. If we follow them, we'll reach the next section."

Good. As long as he didn't have to cross that creepy skeleton forest and run from another monster, he'd be fine.

There was no way a simple set of train tracks was going to try to eat him. He'd definitely be fine.

✧✧✧

Just as he'd expected, the train tracks were a lot more welcoming than that awful entrance covered in grimy skeletons. They stretched out for what looked like several kilometers, with petals from small sky-blue flowers with white centers scattered along them. There were some pretty violets too.

"What are those flowers called, professor?" he asked, crouching down beside the tracks to pick one up.

They were beautiful, and strangely familiar. But where had he seen them before? He didn't even know their name.

"That's Myosotis, commonly known as forget-me-not. And the violets look like 'eternal summer.'"

Forget-me-not.

Hehe.

He'd just forgotten it.

"You can tell just by looking at them?"

"Because I know them well. There is nothing in this world that escapes my understanding."

Oh.

He smiled.

Yeah, that definitely sounded like something he would say. Hahaha.

"And what do they mean?" he asked, looking at the smallest one curiously.

The professor was quiet for a moment before answering.

"Eternal love, memory, and a connection that transcends death."

That sounded beautiful. Giving these flowers to someone must be something really special. Though he doubted Phainon had ever given anything like that to anyone. After all, beyond being an executioner through the recurrences, he was nothing more and never would be. Not after leaving the yellow zone behind.

"Will you remember me when I die, professor?" he asked out loud, before he'd even thought about what he was saying.

The voice didn't answer.

Right. If he died, the professor would die with him. He was just a voice inside his head, after all. 

No one would remember him anyway.

"Phainon..."

"Forget I said that, please." He looked at the flower one last time, then picked another and tucked it into his pocket before standing up with a smile. "Let's keep moving, professor."

✧✧✧

It seemed like dawn had come a while ago, except the sky refused to be anything other than a grayish white. The train tracks disappeared into the horizon, hidden under the fog. It must have been early, early enough that even the sun didn't want to come out.

It was cold. Or at least, that's what he imagined it should feel like, because he hadn't been able to sense the temperature of this place for a while now.

"Once you step onto the train tracks, you must not leave them for any reason, no matter what you see," the professor warned. "Or you'll be trapped here forever. Unless you're determined to meet the monster that lives here. I'm sure it would be delighted to have you."

Huh? Was that an attempt at a joke?

Phainon smiled, amused.

"That sounds easy enough, professor."

He laughed.

"We'll see if it's as simple as you think, student."

The train tracks didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary. Setting aside maybe the endless stretch of them and the constant feeling of walking everywhere except along an actual train line. He'd been going for about half an hour, counting the bones and hanging skulls that appeared every now and then, when he heard the laughter of children.

And then he started to understand what the professor had meant.

"Come on, Khas! We're going to be late!" A small girl with pink hair ran past with a wide smile, right alongside the tracks. Behind her came a small boy with white hair and blue eyes, stretching his hand out toward her, exhausted.

That was him, wasn't it? From another life, another one of those cycles that sat clouded in fog inside his mind.

"Wait for me...! Ugh... not so fast... Cyrene!"

Cyrene.

He knew that name. But...

"Come on, Khas! You have to be fast if you want to become a hero!" she cheered, spinning on her heels to run straight toward him.

She took his hand and, with a smile, started pulling him along to keep running.

They disappeared into the fog as if they'd never existed.

"Do you understand now?"

He nodded.

"Don't lose focus. They're going to start showing you things. If they speak to you, don't answer. Understood?"

He nodded again, keeping his pace.

The children appeared once more. This time, Khas had a wooden sword tied to his waist. He was shaken, soot in his hair, cuts on his arms and hands, blood smeared across his face.

"We have to go, Khas!"

"No, I... I can't leave them, Cyrene..."

"They're dead! There's nothing we can do for them..." she pleaded, eyes full of tears. "Come on... please... if we don't run now..."

"Cyrene, I..."

The pink-haired girl grabbed his hand and pulled him into a run again. Phainon watched them disappear, his eyes bright.

He remembered this. Because it was him, Phainon/Khaslana, Flame Reaver, who had destroyed his own home.

How could he forget it, when he'd lived it over and over and over again?

They appeared once more, a little older this time, walking slowly beside him hand in hand. Tears streamed down Khas's cheeks.

"Cyrene... I want to be strong enough to never have to live through this again," he sobbed, dragging his forearm across his eyes.

Cyrene nodded, filled with sadness.

"We'll get stronger, Khas. You and I are going to save this world. We won't let another Ae██ Ely██ disappear."

The children kept walking, but this time, a third figure appeared. A woman who looked like an adult, with long pink hair and violet eyes. She resembled Cyrene, but she wasn't quite her. Not entirely.

"Tell me, Phainon," she said, with a sad smile. "If that boy knew what he was... what he was destined to become... do you think Khas would have chosen to die that day?"

"Don't answer her," the professor said again. "Let her say whatever she wants."

Cyrene... Did she know something more about him? Probably, right?

Maybe she was just another memory pretending to be her. Or maybe she was the monster the professor had warned him about. She was just trying to tempt him. She wanted him to answer so she could pull him off the tracks. The woman didn't seem able to step onto them, so as long as he stayed on, he'd be fine.

The children appeared again, older. A teenage Khas was chasing after a blond boy, sword in hand, brow furrowed. He was fighting side by side with companions Phainon couldn't remember. He wanted to see them. He really would have liked to, but...

Cyrene, or whoever this woman was, couldn't show them to him. Because if he couldn't see them, who else would?

"Hmm... you don't want to?" she asked, puzzled. "Then... what if we go see your parents? Ae██ Ely██ is very close to here. I'm sure they'd be so happy to see you!"

No. There was no way people as honest and kind as them would end up in a place like this. Their souls had to be at rest somewhere very, very far from here. Besides, if he couldn't even remember their faces, how would he know they were really his parents?

Cyrene brought a hand to her chin, thinking.

Khas appeared again, crying and crumpled over a gravestone. He couldn't make out the name, but it must have belonged to someone important, because his friend's moon scepter had been left on top of it.

He wished he could at least remember the dead.

Or was it because they were dead, because he was dead, that he couldn't remember them?

"Wouldn't you like to know what's happening in Amphoreus right now? Don't you want to know how ██elle, █an H██, and the rest of your friends are doing...?"

Amphoreus.

He looked at her closely this time, blue eyes wide open. She smiled at him innocently.

"Of course you do. After all, they have to kill you to save everyone else."

Did Cyrene know what was happening over there?

His steps began to slow, his pace shrinking until he was barely moving.

Amphoreus. 

His friends were still fighting, weren't they? They had to be trying to kill him, to kill ████, to protect the universe from Destruction. Had they won? Had they stopped it? Was that why he was here? Or was it precisely because they were still fighting that he hadn't disappeared yet?

He parted his lips, pressed them together, parted them again, his mouth dry. He wanted to ask. He wanted to know what was happening.

She knew. She couldn't be lying to him, could she? Because she would never lie to him. Not to him.

Cyrene had never lied to him. Not even when it would have been easier to.

Huh?

Khas appeared on the path again, this time following a slender figure, ten or fifteen centimeters shorter than him, walking with his back turned. A man who moved with pride, one Khas trailed behind with the excitement of a child.

And then the same man, this time with a distorted face, speaking to a small animal that watched him with great attention.

"Aha! This is exactly what I was telling you about. The most brilliant chimera I've ever taught."

Phainon stuck a finger in his ear, confused.

His voice was distorted. He couldn't hear it. Why? Why could he hear everyone else's but his?

"P██████ An██, that's a droma, not a chimera."

"First of all, don't call me A████. And second, I was talking to the droma, not to you."

His vision began to blur.

Who...? Who...? Who...?

Why couldn't he remember? Why didn't he know who this was? Why did Khaslana look at him with such bright eyes? Why did he seem to admire him so much?

Why?

Why?

Why? Why couldn't he remember anything?

"Tell me, Phainon," a voice whispered in his ear. "Do you want me to tell you who he is?"

Khas disappeared, chasing after the figure who this time, instead of keeping his back turned, had chosen to wait for him before fading into the fog. And his blurred eyes filled with tears.

He wanted to know.

He really did...

"Oh, poor Phainon. The recurrences must have broken your mind, haven't they? You can't even remember the name of the person you're in love with."

What?

He looked at the woman in disbelief. His hands began to tremble.

The train tracks started changing color. The flowers shifted from blue to violet to yellow to red to green. The sky began to roar, shaking as if it might come apart.

In love.

In love…

In love…?

He must have heard wrong, right?

Phainon... Khaslana... no, there was no way he was in love. Not when he had killed his beloved over and over and over and over again.

Not when he had put the good of Amphoreus, the good of the eternal recurrences, above the love of that person.

"You don't believe me? Should I show you something else?"

This time Khas appeared not as himself, but as Flame Reaver. He had the man by the throat, lifting his thin body meters off the ground. The man seemed to be smiling as he looked at the fractured mask of the one who had become the executioner of the world he had sworn to save. He was bleeding, a gaping hole in the center of his chest where the coreflame of Reason had once been hidden. He must have torn it out with his own hands, because it would have been so easy to split that thin body in two, wouldn't it?

The sky turned red, then blue, then white and black. And then the stars ignited, lighting up the forbidden constellations overhead.

The man tore the mask from Flame Reaver's face and let out a soft laugh at the sight of Khaslana's bruised, tear-streaked face. Because if that person mattered... if he truly meant what Cyrene was trying to make him believe... it must have been agony to kill him over and over and over and over and over again.

Through this recurrence and every one that came after.

He reached out, pressing a hand to the pale cheek and whispered something Phainon's ears couldn't quite catch. A curse, maybe, or a word of encouragement. Or, if it was what he thought, another lesson.

Because wasn't this man an inspiration to him?

"You want to know what happens next, don't you?" she asked. "Come. I'll take you to see the rest. This time, you'll understand perfectly who you are. And what you've done."

Cyrene extended her hand with a beautiful, honest smile. Phainon stared at her, dazed, then looked down at his own hand. She stayed there, waiting patiently, and his fingers trembled.

"Come on, Phainon. You'll be okay. I promise that this time, everything will be okay."

A██████.

█████sor.

Pro████████.

Who are you?

Who are you?

Who the hell am I?

Why can't I remember you? Why can't I remember anyone?

Why am I here, completely alone, while everyone else is in ████████...?

"We're going to see everyone tomorrow, Khas. Just like we promised we would."

Yes. We're going to see tomorrow, Cyrene.

Even though neither of us is supposed to be able to see it anymore.

Just once. Just this once.

He stretched his fingers out slowly, eyes never leaving hers. She waited, hand raised, with the sweetest smile he had ever seen her make. Phainon managed a shaky smile of his own as his fingers came within inches of touching hers.

Please. Let me see them all just once. Just one more time.

"Phainon."

He froze, just centimeters away. Cyrene's eyes went wide before the sky turned completely blue and the fog above his head disappeared.

"Keep moving forward," said that voice inside his head. "Whatever your doubts are, don't you think those are things you should discover for yourself? You've never been someone who settles for the easy way out."

The tears spilled over before he could stop them.

"Hahaha..."

His shoulders began to shake. Phainon did his best to wipe the tears falling down his cheeks without stopping laughing. He felt so clumsy, so stupid, but...

Damn. The professor really was right this time. Like every other time.

"No matter what happens. You still have me, don't you?"

Phainon nodded several times, still smiling.

"Yeah... I still have the professor... we can still find the way together."

Cyrene looked at him one last time before letting her hand fall, not pushing anymore.

"I see. So that's what you've decided, Khaslana," she said, a soft smile crossing her face, a real one this time. "I'm glad you made the right choice, at least this time."

Because there wouldn't be a second chance, would there?

If he got it wrong this time, there was no going back.

✧✧✧

Cyrene disappeared not long after, but Khas came back, this time in his child form, walking along the top of the rail with his arms out, focused on keeping his balance. He, unlike Cyrene, didn't seem particularly interested in Phainon's existence. He just walked alongside him, as if making sure he didn't stray too far from his path.

"I hope you'll forgive Cyrene," he murmured a while later, without looking at him.

He knew he shouldn't answer. The professor had told him not to, but this time, unlike with Cyrene, he didn't sense any hidden motive in him.

"Why?"

"Because we only do what she asks us to do."

"She?" he asked.

He nodded.

"The queen," he answered. "It's the first time anyone has ever avoided her forest. And she hasn't eaten in a long time, so she sent us to tempt you. But I never liked having to trick people, so she took all of that on herself."

Oh.

So the queen used these children to find food.

"But don't misunderstand her. The memories Cyrene showed you are real. She has the power to bring out the deepest emotions in people. That's why she loves her so much."

It was real.

Hahaha.

If he had taken her hand, he would have been able to see all his memories right before being devoured by the queen and vanishing, with no way back.

He wasn't sure he wanted to die like that.

"What happens if you don't bring her food?" he decided to ask.

Khas looked away, pressing his lips together.

"I suppose this time, she'll eat us instead."

Ah. So that was it. That was why she had stopped trying once she understood her efforts would never work. They had resigned themselves to dying this time, hadn't they?

"You don't have to go back to her," he said. "You can find a way out. The same way we're doing."

Khas tilted his head.

"We can't exist outside of this place. Not without being tied to something or someone. And if we stay here, she'll find us. She always finds us."

He looked up and found the end of the forest, and the end of the path along the train tracks. A lake opened up beyond it, half merged with an enormous rusted train. And right in front of him, an end-of-the-line sign.

The moment he left the tracks, the queen would come for them. If he left these children here, they would die.

But was there any way to take them with him?

"Professor..."

"Figure it out yourself, Phainon," came the response.

Phainon closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. Then he extended his hand toward the boy.

"Why don't you come with me?"

Little Khas's eyes went wide before slowly softening. Then he gave him a small, beautiful smile.

"Only if you take Cyrene too."

Phainon smiled back and nodded.

"I would never dream of separating you."

A soft breeze blew through, tossing his hair and lifting the small flowers scattered along the path. Khas's hand barely grazed his before his body dissolved into tiny particles of light. Phainon closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was holding a wooden sword and a deck of thirteen cards, each bearing a familiar face and name.

Aglaea. Castorice. Hysilens. Mydeimos. Cerydra. Dan Heng. Evernight. Hyacine. Cipher. Trispios.

Two jokers: Khaslana and Cyrene.

And An██████.

The only name he couldn't read.

✧✧✧

"Professor, where do we go from here? We've reached the end of the path," Phainon murmured, tucking the deck away and wedging the wooden sword into his belt.

"The train. Unless you'd rather jump in the water and see where it leads. That could be interesting."

Oh.

"You don't know where we're going this time either, do you?"

Silence.

Phainon smiled to himself.

So even the professor could run into trouble seeing what lay ahead.

Hehe.

"Don't think about unnecessary things, Phainon. Get in before the queen decides to come looking for you."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going."

✧✧✧

After checking the area around the train and getting his ankles soaked, he managed to find a door that gave way with a little force. A blast of hot air hit him from inside, making him wrinkle his nose and turn away.

He hoped there was no such thing as tetanus in this world. Otherwise he'd have to gouge his eyes out before all that rust killed him.

Once the inside became somewhat breathable, Phainon looked around more carefully and found a strange surprise, if you could call it that.

The car was packed with balls of every size and color. He couldn't even see the floor.

If there was one.

"Mmmm..."

"What's wrong? Why aren't you going in?"

"There are a lot of colored balls in there."

"So?" he replied, incredulous. "They're balls. What are they going to do to you?"

He had a point. What could a bunch of balls do to him? He'd already run from a monster and nearly fallen for a ghost's trap.

What could possibly go wrong this time?

Phainon stepped in with confidence, ignoring the small flutter in his chest, and lowered one foot through the door searching for the floor beneath all those balls.

Clack. Clack.

Maybe fifty or sixty centimeters deep. There didn't seem to be any holes nearby either, otherwise the balls would have fallen through. This time it actually seemed safe. Very safe. And if the professor was pushing him to just get in without any major warnings, then it definitely wasn't a bottomless pit, right?

"Come on, they're just balls. You looked more confident when you were running from the monster."

The albino puffed out his cheeks, sitting down on the edge of the door to lower himself into the ball pit.

"Can you blame me for being careful? What if it's a trap and I fall in because I wasn't paying attention?"

The professor laughed.

"You'll only find out if you take the next step."

Phainon smiled to himself.

Fair enough.

✧✧✧

The balls were up to the middle of his chest when he stopped feeling the floor.

"Uh... professor...?"

He had a serious, very serious problem.

Yes, again.

"What do you want now?"

Phainon tried using his other foot, his hand, anything to stop himself from sinking. But he only ended up tangled in more and more balls, fighting not to go under, until his white hair disappeared into all those colors.

"Phainon?"

✧✧✧

The hole spat him out onto a colorful floor of alternating yellow and blue tiles. He scratched his head with his rear end still in the air and started unfolding himself, remembering he wasn't nearly as flexible as he'd been as a kid.

He really should have worked on his flexibility before putting on all that muscle. He was stiff everywhere now.

"Up. You can mourn your old age later."

"I'm not old, professor. I'm 23."

"Those kids were thirteen years younger than you."

Phainon sighed heavily.

He had a point. He was probably the oldest person in this place. Not that twenty-three was all that much time, but it was the furthest he'd ever made it since the recurrences began.

"Up, idiot. There's something interesting you need to see."

He jumped to his feet, taking in the strange colorful place. It looked like some kind of... game room?

Hmm.

But what was that?

He rubbed his eyes, looked at the inflatable animal, and rubbed them again.

"Huh?"

Was that a... dinosaur? No, no. There were no living dinosaurs in Amphoreus. They'd been extinct for hundreds of years. Phainon didn't even know what a dinosaur was supposed to look like, but it probably didn't look like that, right?

Hmm.

"Oh, that's a droma," the professor cut in. "This place has good taste."

A droma. Right.

That was the word.

But what was a droma? He knew he knew them, the name and the shape felt very familiar, but where had he seen one before? Why couldn't he remember?

He could remember the names of every animal and plant he'd ever seen, but for some reason a few very specific ones kept slipping away from him.

Phainon rubbed his forehead, a small, sharp ache pulsing behind it.

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head.

"My memories are still a little scrambled. I know I know what dromas are, I just can't remember how or why."

The professor sighed, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"It is the most perfect and magnificent creature in existence," he said. "I have a list of a thousand things you need to know about dromas. I'll tell you while we explore this place. A little culture wouldn't hurt you."

???????

A thousand things?

Huh?????

Was he serious?

"Does the professor like dromas?" he asked, moving toward the inflatable animal.

"Like is not the right word," the professor said. Phainon raised an eyebrow. "I would say I am someone who takes great pleasure in their existence. Nothing more, nothing less."

He smiled sideways.

"Yeah, that definitely sounds like someone who loves dromas a lot."

"Shut up and start walking, before the droma moves and eats you."

The albino nodded a couple of times and headed off.

✧✧✧

The area with the inflatable droma turned out to be a kind of reception hall. Phainon spent about half an hour wandering through a lot of very similar hallways, listening to the professor say things like: "Dromas are the only mammals in Amphoreus that lay eggs." "Every vertebra in a droma's neck acts as a shock absorber. They can take an impact that would split any other living creature in two, which is why the larger ones were used in combat. The neck can be lethal if they're trained to use it." "Dromas can go up to ten days without sleep if they feel threatened." "They have no natural predators in adulthood, but..." "Dromas are actually very social creatures, the younger ones learn to..." And so on, until he'd heard two hundred entries from the professor's list of a thousand droma facts. He could tell the professor could keep going indefinitely, because he genuinely loved those animals.

Phainon didn't know anything about dromas beyond what he was hearing now, but if they made the professor talk with that much passion, they had to be remarkable creatures. He'd like to see a full-grown one someday.

"The professor really does love dromas, doesn't he?"

"Hmpf. These are just general knowledge facts."

Right. General knowledge. Of course.

Phainon kept listening closely until, after nearly an hour of getting turned around in hallways that all looked the same and had fewer and fewer dromas in them, he found a different corridor that opened up into a much wider, brighter space. Something like an indoor amusement park.

There was a white skylight overhead and white lanterns hanging above that flickered every now and then. The place was full of rides and game booths with droma themes. The attractions looked a little faded, but the lights worked well enough. Everything seemed to be running, even if it didn't look like it at first glance.

"There are so many games," he murmured, looking around in amazement. "Do you think we should try some, professor?"

There was a roller coaster, a mini droma Ferris wheel, spinning teacups shaped like dromas, a shooting gallery, and something called "bumper dromas," among several others he couldn't identify because he'd never seen anything like them.

What the hell were bumper dromas?

"I don't see why not. Having fun might help clear your head. Go ahead."

"Hehe. Are you sure you're not just saying that because you love dromas, professor?"

The professor scoffed.

"Only an idiot would pass up a place like this."

Fair enough. Only someone who didn't love dromas would walk right past. And after hearing a quarter of the professor's list, Phainon had no choice but to consider himself a droma enthusiast in training.

"Ha. I like that attitude better. Let's go to the shooting gallery."

He walked up with enthusiasm to the first booth, the cleanest and most elaborate one they'd come across while exploring. The gun was right there within reach, so he picked it up and looked it over before pressing the start button on the attraction.

He didn't remember ever using a shotgun before, but it probably wasn't that hard.

"It's already loaded. Aim carefully, Phainon. I want every prize in that booth. Don't you dare miss."

"Got it, professor!" he said, determined.

A sign appeared with a countdown from 3, 2, 1, and then extremely ugly monsters started coming out from all directions.

Phainon brought the gun up to his shoulder and got ready to fire, and just as his finger closed around the trigger, everything went black.

✧✧✧

Phainon was holding a huge pile of droma plushies in his arms, amused by the looks people were giving him, like he'd grown a third arm out of his neck. He stood there watching the back of a man holding a pistol with a wide smile and an easy confidence. The man turned, laughing in a way that was almost excessive. His face was distorted, but Phainon could at least make out the mint green color of his hair and something dark covering one of his eyes. Even without being able to see him fully, he came across as certain, almost arrogant in his sense of triumph.

"Which one are you going for this time, pro████████?" he asked, amused, watching the man zero in on a new droma. "I think we're still missing the red one."

"All of them."

"Huh?"

Phainon tilted his head.

Had he heard right?

"I'm taking all of them."

"But pro███████... there are kids in line waiting to get a droma."

The man turned to look at him.

"I'm sure they'll have more to restock," he said, fixing the booth attendant with a look.

"Y-yes! Of course we do..." the man confirmed.

They absolutely did not. But how were they supposed to say no to the ████ of ████?

Phainon sighed with half a smile. There was no changing that stubborn man's mind, was there? Not that it mattered. That was just how he ██████ was, and he wasn't going to try to change it. He'd carry every droma plushie that needed carrying if it meant getting to see him smile.

"Ready... set... GO!"

The mint-haired man spun the moment the buzzer sounded and fired off the first six shots in quick succession, knocking down all twelve targets in just a few seconds. Phainon stared, along with everyone else watching.

██████ had always been incredibly skilled with weapons. And with dromas on the line as his reward, no one in their right mind was going to stop him, least of all a bunch of cheap carnival monsters.

"Next," he said.

The buzzer sounded again for the second round and the first monsters started coming out, this time moving in more erratic, unpredictable patterns. It didn't matter. A couple of shots and all twelve targets went down again.

Oh god.

The mint-haired man twirled the pistol in his hand before slipping it into his pocket.

"Pro███... that gun belongs to the game," Phainon reminded him.

The man ignored him completely.

"Waaaaa, that was so cool!" The kids broke into applause, amazed by the whole display. "Can you teach us to shoot like that, pro███?"

That didn't seem like a great idea.

Where were these kids' parents?

The booth attendant sighed heavily as he handed the man five droma plushies. And the man held them tightly against his chest, savoring his victory completely, because there was no other way someone like him could possibly enjoy a moment like this.

"HAHAHAHAAH."

Phainon laughed too, wondering where the hell they were going to put all these droma plushies when they got back.

✧✧✧

"...inon...! Phainon!"

His eyes opened with difficulty. He blinked a couple of times, trying to focus as he looked at the shooting booth and a large sign with a droma sticking its tongue out that read "You Lose."

He was still here, standing in front of the booth. He hadn't fired anything, the gun still up against his shoulder. He hadn't moved at all. So what the hell was that? A memory? Or had he just fallen asleep standing up while trying to shoot?

Oh, now that he thought about it, he hadn't needed to sleep or eat since he'd arrived in this place. Since he didn't feel hungry or tired, he'd assumed he didn't need to, but what if it was just the adrenaline keeping him going?

Maybe the sleep deprivation was making him hallucinate.

"I'm sorry, professor."

"What happened?"

He wasn't entirely sure, but...

"I think... I just remembered something."

Yeah, maybe that was the right word for it, because if it had been a dream, wasn't it too vivid? Wasn't it too happy to be something his subconscious would have invented on its own? Besides, he'd just figured out what dromas actually were. He shouldn't have been able to imagine something like that in that much detail, right?

"So it's exactly what I thought. Some sections of this park are designed to trigger your memories, the same way Cyrene did."

Huh?

Phainon tilted his head, confused.

Wasn't he going to ask what he'd remembered?

"It's not necessary. I already know everything I need to know."

Hmm.

That was it? He wasn't going to say anything else?

Phainon had just blacked out for who knows how many minutes. Didn't that seem strange? Well, if he really was his conscience, he should know perfectly well what he'd seen. But then why had he been calling him in such a worried voice? Maybe he couldn't access the deepest parts of his subconscious and could only exist where his memories were more surface-level?

If that was the case, there was no way the professor was just "his conscience." Was he lying then? No, he hadn't lied. He'd simply never bothered to explain what he actually was and let Phainon believe whatever he wanted.

He set the gun back in its place and crossed his arms, walking away from the booth.

He hadn't wanted to think about this before, but what did the professor actually want? It was clear he wasn't his conscience, and he was more than just a voice pointing him in the right direction. Why was he helping him? Why was he still here, worrying about him and keeping the other monsters from getting to him? And maybe the most important question: why had he refused to give his name when they first met? Why did he let him call him professor?

He knew nothing about him beyond his love of dromas. He had no body and lived inside his head, though he sometimes went quiet. He couldn't reach the deepest parts of his subconscious and could only perceive what Khaslana could see. The only exception was the layout of each area, which he seemed to know fairly well.

Khaslana had warned about a monster before entering the golden wheat field, and it was in that exact place where he'd first heard the professor's voice. What if the professor was the monster that warning was meant for, and not that creature? What if he was using his naivety to lead him into a trap, or to try to escape his own prison?

Could he trust him? Could he keep sharing his thoughts with him, knowing absolutely nothing about what he actually wanted?

Probably not, right? Any person with a shred of common sense would have been horrified to find a strange, grumpy voice in their head, but Phainon's mind had been broken across thousands of recurrences. He'd forgotten the names of his friends, of the person he loved, even a significant part of himself. What did it matter if he decided to trust him? Who cared if this all turned out to be a trap in the end?

The professor hadn't done anything to hurt him so far. And he was company, for someone who had spent hundreds of years completely alone.

Was it so naive to want a little company and let go of every doubt? Was it so stupid to hold onto the idea that the professor was there for him without any hidden agenda, even when Phainon kept threatening to make terrible decisions and lose himself inside this miserable labyrinth?

How could he doubt his intentions when all he wanted was to keep listening to him talk?

He was tired of fighting, of second-guessing everything and keeping people at a distance. This was his last life. This time, at least this time, he was going to choose to trust and follow his guide all the way to the end. Even if that turned out to be the wrong decision.

"Come on, Phainon. Don't fall behind. There are still more droma rides we need to try."

Phainon smiled.

"Yes, professor!"

✧✧✧

The other rides didn't trigger any memories, but they did make him laugh like a maniac. The droma teacups made him throw up twice, the mini Ferris wheel got stuck at the top and Phainon had to climb down as best he could, and as if that weren't enough, the professor had very specific opinions about his technique on the bumper dromas, where automatic droma-shaped carts kept crashing into his trying to knock him off the track.

"That was pathetic."

"But I won, professor!"

"You can't win if you don't have an opponent."

Phainon doubled over laughing until his stomach hurt. And ended up hugging a trash can again while he finished emptying the nonexistent contents of his stomach.

At one of the booths where he won absolutely nothing, he spotted a small light blue droma plushie peeking out from the prizes on the lowest shelf. It wasn't very big, he could squeeze it comfortably in his hands, so without thinking too much about it, he just took it.

"Phainon, what do you think you're doing?"

"What? It's all alone. It needs a family."

He definitely hadn't stolen it. There was no one to steal from here anyway.

The professor laughed.

"I'll let it slide, but only because you did it for the droma."

After a while it became clear that no other ride was going to trigger anything like what happened at the shooting gallery, so they stopped trying and started looking for a way out. And they ran into a problem. A big one. There were no doors or tunnels connecting to a next level. Phainon even thought about climbing into the sewer, but the professor reminded him that was a terrible idea, and that he would personally kill him if he dared get the droma dirty. So while they waited and tried to think of a solution, he looked up and found it right where he least expected it.

A roller coaster.

"What about the roller coaster, professor?" he asked, tracing the path of the rails with his eyes. They looped around the inside of the room a few times and passed through the only opening there was, which happened to be, somewhat fittingly, the mouth of an enormous clown dressed as a droma. They could probably get to the next area through there. Though that horrifying clown face gave him a very, very bad feeling. What if it was a trap?

No, he'd learned the hard way that horrifying faces didn't necessarily mean bad things. Besides, this was the best option they had. There was no other way out. They'd have to take the chance.

"Yes, that could work."

✧✧✧

There was no console or giant red button to get the roller coaster going, so he just took a seat in the first cart he found, the one shaped like a droma's head, at the professor's suggestion, and tucked the mini droma into his clothes to keep it safe. He pulled down the safety bar, and then, as if by magic, the ride started moving.

"Take the chance to rest. It'll probably take us a few hours to reach the next place."

Phainon leaned back in his seat and half-closed his eyes, resting his hands over the little plush droma on his chest.

"You should rest too, professor. I'll wake you when we get there."

"Idiot. I don't need to sleep."

"I don't think I do either."

They both laughed quietly.

"Fine. I'll step away for a bit. Will you be alright? I'd rather not come back to find a killer clown eating you."

Phainon let out a long breath through his nose.

"Do you really have to put it like that, professor?"

"You're a disaster. And you're my student, isn't it normal for me to worry about you?"

His cheeks colored slightly and he looked away for a moment.

"Get some rest, professor. I'll do my best not to die."

"Hmpf."

He tilted his head, watching the droma amusement park below as the cart picked up speed. It looked so much smaller and emptier from up here, didn't it? Very different from the impression he'd gotten while trying out the rides. It would definitely be more fun with a lot more people. Kids and droma lovers would probably love it just as much as the professor and Phainon had.

The cart took the first curve and Phainon squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a flutter rise up from his stomach.

Ughhhh. This ride really did things to him.

He wasn't going to turn into a killer clown droma after this, was he? Because his heart couldn't handle being almost eaten again.

No, it had to be a normal attraction. The professor wouldn't have stepped away if it weren't. He trusted the professor and he trusted the dromas the professor loved.

The cart climbed toward the next curve, steeper this time, fighting against gravity. The albino held tight to the droma and closed his eyes again, the same flutter coming back, this time in the pit of his stomach.

He had no memory of ever being on a roller coaster. He wasn't even sure they existed in Amphoreus. He'd seen mine carts, sure, that was the closest thing. He doubted anyone had ever thought to use a car like that on underground rails just for a laugh. Well, maybe someone had. A couple of red-headed faces came to mind.

Maybe their names were written on those cards that Khas and Cyrene had given him. But if he couldn't remember their faces, maybe just holding onto the warm feeling of their hearts was enough. He could live with that, at least until he remembered them again.

He looked at the droma, then back down at the view below.

Khaslana and the other Phainons had never gotten to experience any of what he just had. They'd missed so much across the recurrences, and whatever memories they had left had been worn down by time.

He was sure that if they were here, they'd have a great time. He was sure they'd like the professor too, even if he was a bit sarcastic, arrogant, and grumpy. Maybe he was just a voice in his head, but for them too, having someone else in their corner after so long fighting alone would probably have meant everything.

He wished he could have met him sooner. He wished Khaslana and every Phainon before him could have had a professor to guide them through that difficult road. And he wished he could have shared every single feeling from this journey with them.

His last journey.

Hehe.

He didn't know how many more strange places he had left to see. He wasn't even sure what would happen to him once he reached the end. Maybe it would be like waking up from a dream, or maybe like the light at the end of a very long tunnel. There was even a small chance that somewhere out there another recurrence was waiting to begin, but this time it really didn't matter.

He trusted his friends. There was no need for Phainon to go back to Amphoreus, not while Irontomb was still alive. And whatever fate was waiting for him at the end of this journey, he would make sure to remember it. He'd carry it in his heart always. And without question, he'd hold onto the memory of the professor and the little plush droma.

He laughed softly, letting his tears fall again. The cart made one last loop, leaving Phainon upside down. And then they picked up speed and finally, together, passed through the mouth of the enormous droma clown.

Goodbye, waiting room.

Goodbye, Khaslana.

Goodbye, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae.

Soon, you and I will be one again.

✧✧✧

The tracks continued beyond the hole in the wall, several meters above the ground, so all Phainon could see were the solitary rails disappearing into the clouds above.

The wind hit hard against his face, completely wrecking his white hair. The cart was climbing fast, very fast, fast enough to fill his stomach with butterflies. He wasn't sure if it was vertigo or just nerves from the ridiculous height they were at, so he held the droma tight against his chest and took a deep breath through his nose before letting out a shaky laugh.

You'd better hold on, little guy. Or the professor will kill me. He thought, looking down at the small droma tucked firmly against him.

He'd just saved it from a life of loneliness. He wasn't going to let it fall now. The professor would never forgive him if he lost it before the journey was over. Besides, for some reason, holding that little thing felt genuinely calming, almost like it gave him the certainty that as long as he held on, nothing bad would happen again.

Hmm. Now that he thought about it...

Should he give the droma a name?

Maybe, right?

Considering it was going to be with them for whatever was left of the journey, he couldn't just keep calling it plushie or little droma.

What kind of name would suit it? Maybe something like Pythagoras or An██████.

Huh?

An██████. ██ax████. ██ago███. █████ras.

??????

Strange. There were still names he couldn't even think. Oh, but maybe he should leave that honor to the professor. He'd probably get excited and come up with the best options to honor the little plushie.

Hehehe.

We'll ask him later, little guy.

Phainon hugged it tight with a small smile and kept enjoying the view and that strange flutter in his stomach as the cart slowed down while it carried them higher and higher.

Oh. If they fell now they were really going to die. How exciting.

The cart stopped at the very top, giving him a view of kilometers of tracks tangled up in the middle of that breathtaking landscape. Phainon closed his eyes and breathed in deep, savoring the air, the soft warm rays of sunlight on his face. And then they began to drop at full speed.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...."

Oh, good lord.

The tracks curved into a loop and the cart started spinning through circles that turned him completely upside down, rushing all the blood in his body up to his flushed face and then pulling it back again.

Phainon let out every last bit of air in his lungs before he started laughing.

This was genuinely amazing!

"Hahahaa.... Waaaaaaaaaaa.... Professor, you have to see this!"

He raised a hand toward the sky, punching right through one of the clouds, and kept laughing as they dropped faster and faster.

"Professor...?"

Ah. He was still sleeping, wasn't he? If that was the case, he shouldn't wake him. Even so... He wished pr█████ █████as could be there, enjoying this beautiful place with him.

His eyes filled with tears, and he had to close them for a moment to clear them. But when he opened them again, there was no roller coaster, no droma, no flutter, no blue sky streaked with clouds.

Just him there, lying on the grass beneath that same blue sky, watching the same distorted face from his memories sleep.

✧✧✧

Their eyes met in the darkness of the night. The man spat up some blood and closed his hand around Phainon's wrist, right over the hilt of the sword running through him, anchoring him to it. To the present. To this new past.

"Tell me, █████ of Aedes Elysiae. What is your dream?"

If he got a coin every time he heard that question, he'd have 12,550.███ coins, which was a ridiculous amount of money. It probably would have been enough to rebuild every city and village like Aedes Elysiae that fell during the war. Or maybe he'd have put it in a savings account to hand over to Lady Aglaea and put every coin toward those orphaned children. Or maybe Cipher would have been faster and stolen the whole treasure before Phainon had even decided what he wanted to do with it.

He wasn't sure which of the three was most likely, but at least his answer had always stayed the same.

He was never going to forget his wish.

"My wish... is to fulfill... everyone else’s wishes."

The dying man smiled, the same way he always did when he knew he was wrong.

"Even now, you're still saying the same thing?"

Naive, right? That was probably what he thought. And yet Phainon had no memory of a single mocking remark, not one comment that made him feel his wish was stupid. Just a look of sadness and an attempt, planting a small seed of doubt in his mind to make him understand the kind of destiny he was drawing for himself.

But could you really convince a stubborn man who had lost everything that even his own existence had some kind of value?

Because if he knew that, if he truly valued his own life and the lives of everyone else... would the recurrences have started in the first place?

"And what will you do if you can't fulfill them?"

"Then I'll send them toward tomorrow."

If it wasn't him, someone would come, right?

Someone would come to save this world before it was too late. Cyrene... Trispios had promised. They wouldn't have to fight alone anymore.

But how long did they have to wait?

How many more times did he have to kill his friends and keep going before he could pass the torch to someone else?

▓██ERROR▓████ERROR▓████

But if tomorrow came and the true hero never arrived... wasn't it better to kill them all and ██████ERROR▓████ Amphoreus before Irontomb was born into it?

"Even if that means never seeing it yourself?"

Khaslana turned, exhausted, and gave him a broken smile, eyes full of tears.

"We're on a road of no return, ██████. After this... there's no way I can go back to ████████████."

If sacrificing his soul, his body, his heart, and his mind could change the outcome, then he would offer everything, even his identity and his own name.

It didn't matter how much he had to suffer. It didn't matter how many lives he had to take if it meant changing this result.

But how much longer do you think you'll be able to keep fighting, dear Khaslana?

"Tell me, my foolish student. Have you ever, even once, had a wish that was just yours?"

██████ERROR██ERROR██ERROR██████

██nO██ERROR████

The truth was... ██ERROR████Every time he tried to think about himself, about what he, about what Phainon and Khaslana actually wanted... his mind went bl██nk.

████ERROR████

██ERROR████

Because he had never believed that someone like him, someone soaked in the blood and tears of the innocent, had any right to make a wish.

✧✧✧

Maybe he was just trying to convince himself that he wasn't the kind of person who could dream. Or maybe Khaslana had simply become a coward, one who couldn't bring himself to admit that what he longed for, what he wanted even more than saving the world...

Was to hold the warm heart of professor ██████ in his hands.

✧✧✧

Sometimes just holding hands was enough to carry him to the top of the world. Other times, just the sound of his laugh was enough to make every single one of his problems disappear.

Let's run away, professor. Somewhere far, where nothing and no one can find us.

He had lost count of how many times he'd bitten his tongue, wanting with everything he had to stop fighting and say exactly that.

He knew he hated his mission. He knew he saw no point in the whole system of self-sacrifice. He was the only one who saw him as something more than a hero, the only one who still pushed him to rebel against his fate.

So why didn't he take his hand? Why didn't he take him somewhere far away, where the black tide and every worry couldn't reach them? Phainon would give up everything to make him happy. He would give up himself if it meant getting to feel the warmth of his heart even just once.

But...

"Don't you think that if you were capable of doing it, you would have done it already?"

33,550,336 was too many, wasn't it?

If you could hide, if you could run and leave all of this behind...

S̵h̵o̵u̵l̵d̵n̵'̵t̵ ̵y̵o̵u̵ ̵h̵a̵v̵e̵ ̵b̵e̵e̵n̵ ̵a̵b̵l̵e̵ ̵t̵o̵ ̵d̵o̵ ̵i̵t̵ ̵l̵o̵n̵g̵ ̵b̵e̵f̵o̵r̵e̵ ̵n̵o̵w̵?̵

██ERROR██ERROR██ERROR██

So why do you keep waiting for him to take the next step?

Is kiLLinG him all yOu kNoW hoW to do?

✧✧✧

Trispios gave him one last prophecy before disappearing.

"They will walk together until the eternal night comes to an end. And they will say goodbye to their love before the scorching sun announces the dawn."

Phainon stood in front of him, right beside the fountain where he was meant to deposit the coreflame after tearing it from his chest. He was biting his lip, gripping the fabric of his pants tight.

He wanted to tell him not to do it. That he couldn't stand watching him die again, but it wouldn't stop him. It never did.

Even now he was smiling, the way he always did when he was convinced he'd won. That stupid, beautiful, insufferable man... why did he always insist on doing everything on his own terms?

How many more times did he have to watch him die before he understood how much damage he was doing?

Weren't they supposed to walk toward the next door together before the sun came up? So why was he going ahead? Why was he leaving him behind again? Why wouldn't he just wait...?

Just this once, please.

Don't go. Don't go. Don't go. Don't go. Don't go. Don't go. Don't go. Don't go.

Please...

Don't go, professor Ana██████ERROR██ERROR██ERROR████

The professor looked at him with a smile before placing his hand on his cheek. He was crying. He didn't know when he had started, but he couldn't stop.

He couldn't sto████ERROR██ERROR██ERROR████.

"I'll just go a little ahead this time," he murmured, and pinched his cheek gently. "It's a teacher's duty to show the way, isn't it?"

Yes, that was always what he did. Even knowing it was no longer necessary.

"I'll be waiting for you, so don't cry. I won't cross until you get there, understand?" Phainon nodded, pressing his hand over the professor's. "And you'd better show up with a droma. Or I'm going to be very upset."

Phainon let out a small laugh, pressing his cheek further into his hand. It was warm, so warm.

He never wanted to forget it.

He never wanted to let go.

Phainon wanted to ██████ERROR██ERROR██ERROR████

"Where the hell am I supposed to get a droma, professor?" he asked, laughing.

"That's your problem. But don't you dare show your face unless I see at least one droma in your hands."

He nodded again, still laughing. Then the professor took one of his hands and pressed a soft kiss to it.

"See you tomorrow, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae."

"See you tomorrow, Professor Anaxagoras."

And after that... he simply disappeared. The same way he always had.

✧✧✧

His eyes opened. And this time, like all the others, there was no roller coaster, no blue sky, no scorching sun warming his cheeks.

Just the two of them there, standing in the middle of an endless green meadow, a bright door behind them.

"Professor Anaxa."

The man turned his head, finally showing him that beautiful face hidden away in his distorted memories. His hair was mint green, pulled to one side over his shoulder. His right eye was an intense shade of magenta and aquamarine, while the left was hidden behind a black eyepatch. He was here, waiting for him, just as he had promised.

"It's Anaxagoras," he corrected, the way he always did. "How much longer are you going to make me wait? Don't you have something for me?"

Ah. Right.

He held out his hand, offering the small sky-blue droma plushie he had stolen earlier. The professor looked it over before nodding with a satisfied smile.

Of course he was going to love it. He already knew.

"I believe I told you to win all of them, didn't I?"

His blue eyes lit up.

He had, but...

Couldn't he let it go this time? Phainon was nowhere near as good a shot as him. He hadn't even managed to pull the trigger back then.

"It's not fair that you steal my droma over that, professor."

"It's not stealing if you belong to me too."

Phainon smiled, unable to argue with that.

Then the professor turned toward the door and started walking. Phainon stayed where he was, watching his back. Then the professor stopped again and held out his hand.

"It's time to go, Khaslana."

He looked down before nodding.

He knew. But...

"Can't we stay a little longer, professor...?"

Because the moment they crossed that door... wouldn't they be separated again? What if everything started over? What if... what if Phainon had to kill him again...?

He just...

He just wanted to stay a little longer and keep talking to him, just until his heart felt satisfied.

Just that. And he'd never ask for anything again.

"We've been together this whole time, and you still want more?" he asked, amused, before stepping back to his side. "No matter how much time passes, you're still a child, aren't you?"

His cheeks burned.

"Do you really have to put it like that? What's wrong with wanting to spend more time with the person I'm in love with?"

The professor smiled, and this time, he took his hand, threading his fingers through his.

"If we go like this you won't get lost. Isn't that enough? Besides... don't you have something else to do before we leave?" he asked, glancing at the wooden sword at his waist.

Ah, right. He had to free Khas and Cyrene. He couldn't keep them here much longer.

So...

"Do you promise we'll be together on the other side, professor?" the albino asked, eyes full of tears.

He nodded, squeezing his hand tighter.

"Of course. This time, you won't run from me again."

Phainon exhaled through his nose with a shaky smile.

"I'm scared, professor."

The professor pushed the droma against his chest.

Huh? Wasn't it his now?

"Hold it tight. And don't worry. This time, I won't leave your side again."

Phainon nodded, pressing the plushie hard against his chest. And just like that, every bit of anxiety in his chest seemed to dissolve, as if it had never been there at all.

He didn't know what it was, but...

"This plushie is really something, professor."

He rested a hand on his hip and nodded, full of arrogance.

"Of course it is. It's a droma."

Of course.

He smiled.

"Shall we?"

He nodded.

"Let's go."

Toward tomorrow. Toward the end of the last recurrence.

Toward true freedom, whatever that turned out to be.

"See you tomorrow, professor."

"See you tomorrow, Khaslana."

Phainon took the professor's hand tight, held the droma, and together they stepped through the last door.