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Kevin felt his consciousness shattering pieces by pieces as the battle came to an end. All sounds grew distant, his vision fading into a dense, suffocating darkness. The pain in his chest gradually eased, replaced by the softness of grass beneath his back. At that moment, he found himself lying beside MEI. Beneath the warm sunlight, her familiar voice reached him — gentle, tender, as if no tragedy had ever happened. Her smile, the warmth of their interlaced hands, the sound of their comrades chatting nearby — all of it felt like a flickering flame melting the frost of Kevin’s heart. The pressure, the burden, the exhaustion he had carried for so long dissolved like bubbles in water. Drowsiness swept over him as the weight that had pressed upon his shoulders for so many years was finally lifted. His heavy eyelids closed
—And opened again in an unfamiliar place.
Sunlight painted the endless rice fields in shades of gold. The scent of ripe grain lingered in the warm air, a stark contrast to the frigid moon where he had once fallen.
“Phaino—?” a voice called out, hesitant and unfamiliar.
Kevin turned around. Before him stood two young people — one with gray hair, the other pink. The latter looked… exactly like someone he once knew.
Kevin froze. The familiar name slipped past his lips before he could think: “Elysia?”
“Um… sorry, but…” the girl replied, a little confused. “I’m Cyrene. And you must be… Kevin, right?”
Her eyes darted toward the gray-haired one, as if seeking assistance.
They began to explain. The gray-haired person spoke of hearing his story from Welt, about some strange power that had brought him into this world. Every word, every expression carried a plea.
“Please,” the Trailblazer said, voice trembling. “Our friend… only you can help him. We’ll make sure you return safely.”
Kevin stayed silent. The worry in their eyes made it impossible for him to turn away. That sincere, compassionate gaze reminded him of his fallen comrades. His own journey had ended; humanity already had a new future, and there were no burdens left binding him.
When he heard them talk about Phainon, it felt as though he was looking at his past self: someone forced to become a “Deliverer”, bearing the weight of the entire world on the fragile shoulders of a human being. Ordinary people, with only the smallest good intentions, yet shaped by circumstance into learning how to become heroes. They were not the ones who directly saved the world, but what they did was never meaningless.
He remembered reading somewhere that in this vast universe, there are encounters that seem accidental yet carry a special significance. And Kevin felt… this meeting was one of them.
_________
Cyrene and the Trailblazer led him to a field on the outskirts of Aedes Elysiae. In the distance, a young man with white hair was lying on the grass, eyes gazing blankly at the sky. At first glance, he seemed at ease, yet his shoulders were drawn in, as if he were trying to hold himself together, afraid that he might break apart at any moment.
Phainon was lost in a whirl of memories. Loneliness was nothing new to him, yet this solitude felt different. The memories of Khaslana — pain, despair, guilt, shame — had fused with his own self-blame, gnawing endlessly at his mind. Hundreds of millions of blazing flames burned within his body, turning him into a living furnace where every touch brought harm. He still remembered how Cyrene’s hand burned the moment she touched him. Since then, he had avoided everyone. He was terrified of hurting the people he loved.
His train of thought snapped the moment Kevin stepped closer, suddenly entering his sight. Standing before Phainon was someone who looked almost like a mirror image of himself. He blinked repeatedly in disbelief, then jolted to his feet, keeping a wary distance.
“Who are you? How do you know I’m here?”
“You’re Phainon, right?” Kevin said, his tone calm, as if this were nothing more than a casual conversation. “Your friend asked me to come talk to you. Do you mind if I sit here?”
“I can’t… be close to anyone. You should—”
Before he could finish, a cold hand grasped his. The other man wasn’t burned; instead, Phainon felt a soothing chill spreading up his wrist. Kevin’s gaze was steady and quiet, like a still lake.
Phainon froze at both the contact and the words. The fire within him subsided slightly. Kevin let go, then sat down beneath a nearby tree, leaning back with ease. He shifted just enough to leave an open space beside him—a silent invitation, unforced.
After a brief hesitation, Phainon stepped closer. The grass rustled beneath his feet. When he sat down, the world around them seemed to fall quiet, leaving only the sound of wind weaving through the leaves.
Kevin began to speak slowly, without embellishment, about his journey, about how it ended, and about the wishes left unfulfilled yet still meaningful.
Phainon stayed silent. In every story, he saw traces of Khaslana and in every quiet pause between words, he saw himself. Neither of them had ever been chosen heroes. They were simply ordinary people who had learned to carry the weight of the world.
Phainon glanced at Kevin, catching the faint traces of sorrow and loneliness lingering in those ocean-deep eyes.
A familiar ache tightened in his chest.
I never got to hold Khaslana one last time – the thought stung.
“Your journey…” he murmured, his voice catching in his throat. “It must have been heavy."
“So was yours,” Kevin replied softly.
Phainon lowered his head, his fingers tightening around the hem of his clothes.
“When Amphoreus broke free from its fate… everyone got what they had wished for most. Only I was left… not knowing what I existed for… The Deliverer, or a vessel of Destruction… neither matters anymore. I don’t even know if I have any worth left.”
Kevin tilted his head, his voice slow and warm in a way that felt almost unfamiliar. “What do you think of the Trailblazer’s invitation? The sea of stars is vast. Who knows… somewhere out there, you might find a new reason to live.”
“…Maybe I should try.”
Phainon fell silent for a moment. Gathering all his courage, he took a deep breath and quietly asked “Kevin… may I hold you?”
Kevin’s eyes flickered — widening slightly in surprise — but he didn’t refuse. “Are you sure? You’re not afraid of me?”
“You… remind me a lot of Khaslana,” Phainon said, his voice trembling slightly but clear. “I never got the chance to hold him one last time. And you… you deserve to be held, too.”
Kevin turned, opening his arms. Phainon took a slow, steady breath, then stepped forward and embraced him tightly.
Cold. But it was a soothing kind of cold, like cool water in a burning desert. The icy chill from Kevin’s body eased the searing flames. For the first time, this destructive fire did not consume everything.
Kevin’s heartbeat pulsed softly against Phainon’s ear — slow and steady, like a proof that he was still alive, still human.
Phainon closed his eyes, letting his body relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
“Phainon,” Kevin whispered, his hand gently tightening around the younger man’s back. “You deserve to be held like this, too.”
Phainon didn’t answer, but his shoulders trembled — as if a great weight had just been lifted from his chest.
“I can’t say whether your comrades will forgive you or blame you,” Kevin said softly once they pulled apart. “But if you plan to leave… you should say goodbye. Because you cherish them, don’t you?”
Phainon took a deep breath. In his chest, the fire no longer raged. It smoldered instead, like a quiet flame in a lamp. “Thank you. I think… I’ve found a bit more courage.”
Kevin let out a soft chuckle. “Good. I’m glad I could help.”
“Kevin, you’re not as much of a monster as you think. Your humanity… it’s still here.”
“So are you,” he replied. “Neither of us can forgive ourselves. But you owe them a moment of facing the truth. No matter how it turns out… accept it.”
Kevin’s ocean-blue eyes shimmered with quiet encouragement. It felt like someone who had walked the path before was gently passing the torch to the one who followed.
Phainon felt his heart grow lighter. He had run for long enough. It was time to face the people he had once given everything for.
__________
Before setting out with the Trailblazers, he returned to where it all began: Aedes Elysiae.
“Kevin, could you help cool my body? I want to hug my parents goodbye. I don’t want to hurt them.”
Kevin answered without hesitation. He pulled him into an embrace, a chill spreading out to envelop the burning heat of his body. Phainon’s temperature gradually dropped, like a furnace veiled beneath a thin layer of snow.
“It might only last a few minutes,” Kevin murmured.
“That’s enough.” Phainon smiled—a warmth like the first day of spring after long winter nights.
—
Before his childhood home, Phainon suddenly halted. The familiar scenery seemed to reach into the deepest corners of his memory: weathered roof tiles, the trellis of flowers by the porch, the scent of his mother’s freshly baked bread… All of it made his chest tighten.
“Phainon.” His parents’ gentle voices called out, pulling him back to the present. They dropped what they were doing and hurried toward him, wrapping him in a tight embrace as if afraid that, even for a moment, their son might suddenly disappear again.
Phainon froze for a split second, instinctively about to pull away… but there was no cry of pain, no sound of burning flesh, no one getting hurt. He could truly touch them. A faint tremor spread from his heart to his fingertips. He returned the embrace—a trembling hug, yet overflowing with love. Their warmth enveloped him, soothing the fire still smoldering deep inside.
Everything… had truly come to an end. His parents, his homeland, his comrades… everyone’s wish for a peaceful life had finally become reality.
Phainon buried his face in his mother’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent, wanting to etch every detail into his memory. In these arms, he wished time would simply stop.
But perhaps the path of Trailblazing is the only way for him to find a new meaning in this life.
“Dad, Mom… I have to leave again soon,” he said, his voice hoarse and trembling. “I’ll miss you both so much.” His sky-blue eyes lingered on them, his arms tightening around them, reluctant to let go.
“Phainon, we will always support you,” his father said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, while his mother softly stroked his back like she used to when he was a child. “As long as you are safe and happy… distance doesn't matter.”
They gently wiped away the tears trailing down from the corners of his eyes. His father ruffled his hair; his mother patted his back in quiet comfort. Every familiar gesture made his heart ache.
Reluctantly, he stepped out of their embrace, walking one step at a time toward the village gate. As the evening glow settled over the rooftops, he turned back for one last look—the scene was peaceful, warm, like a silent blessing.
“Kevin… would you come with me to one place?”
“Always.”
Phainon gently took his hand. It was cold and steady, in contrast to the trembling warmth still lingering in his chest. Together, they walked forward.
________
Before them stood the Grove of Epiphany, its deep green canopy draping down like a curtain of memories. Phainon stopped in his tracks.
Beneath that shade, the memories came rushing back—the brief days of peace among the students of the Bough of Rift, Castorice’s rare laughter, Hyacine’s gentle hands tending to his wounds… and Anaxa’s warm yet resolute voice.
Kevin gave his hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze warm—a wordless gesture of encouragement. “Are you ready?”
Phainon took a deep breath and nodded slightly. “Thank you. Wait for me here.”
Determination flickered in his clear blue eyes as he turned away.
Phainon walked down the familiar corridor, the faint scent of resin lingering in the air. When the door creaked open, a wisp of smoke and a faint burnt smell drifted out, making his heart leap.
“Anaxa—!” His voice broke out urgently, nearly choking.
The man within the haze turned, his sharp gaze softening at the sight of his student.
“Phainon? So you’ve finally decided to stop running from me?” Anaxa didn’t even bother correcting the way Phainon addressed him.
Phainon froze, his lips parting as if to speak, only to fall silent again. Since when had standing before his teacher made his heart pound like this?
“I’m still the teacher who answered all your questions, am I not?” Anaxa said calmly, his gaze never leaving Phainon. “Then ask.”
Phainon froze, his lips parting as if to speak, only to fall silent again. Since when had standing before his teacher made his heart pound like this?
“I’m still the teacher who answered all your questions, am I not?” Anaxa said calmly, his gaze never leaving him. “Then ask.”
Those words struck like an arrow—his tone was gentle, yet the meaning cut straight to the heart of the matter. Phainon lowered his head, feeling as though every defense he had built was pierced through by that gaze.
“I… know what I’ve done is unforgivable. I don’t blame anyone…”
Anaxa paused, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.
“Unforgivable?” His voice rose slightly, laced with both surprise and a hint of irritation at the way Phainon spoke about himself. “Do you think anyone is blaming you?”
Anaxa’s sharp eyes lingered on him for a long moment before softening. Then he spoke evenly: “I’m not. Neither are Castorice or Hyacine.”
It wasn’t said to comfort him—it was simply the truth, stated plainly, just as Anaxa had always taught him.
“I’m planning… to travel with the Nameless,” Phainon said quietly, slowly. “I don’t want to run away, but they… and Cyrene too, said I should give myself a chance to rest.”
Anaxa fell silent for a moment, then nodded. “This time, I agree with them.”
Phainon looked at his teacher, his eyes lighting up faintly. Just a single word of acceptance, a small sign of approval from Anaxa, was enough to ease the tension in his chest.
“I want to say goodbye to everyone… but I don’t know how to face them anymore.”
“You’re finally able to speak your true feelings. That’s progress,”Anaxa said, his voice softening, no longer as sharp as before. “Do you still remember the question I asked you when you first enrolled?”
Phainon nodded slightly, answering smoothly like a devotee reciting a vow etched deep into his heart: “My dream is to fulfill everyone else’s dreams.”
Anaxa frowned. Anaxa frowned faintly. After all these years, that answer had never changed. But he did not reproach him—only watched him for a long moment, as if weighing something deep within his student’s eyes.
“Now,” Phainon continued, “every wish has come true. Humanity is at peace, Aedes Elysia has been restored… I no longer know who I’m supposed to become. Perhaps… following the Nameless for a while would be better.”
“Good.” Anaxa’s voice, warm and steady. “I support that decision. Go—see the world, broaden your horizons, and find a new meaning for yourself. I’ll be here, waiting for your answer.”
Phainon lowered his head, not daring to meet Anaxa’s gaze, yet unable to suppress the tightness rising in his throat at those words.
If he had looked up then, he would have seen that in his teacher’s eyes there was not only genuine pride, but also an unnameable sorrow. Anaxa fell silent for a long moment. Then, as if moved by something beyond reason, the scholar reached out and placed a hand upon his student’s soft silver hair.
A simple gesture—yet so gentle it made his heart tremble. Phainon froze. He should pull away—he was supposed to—but the warmth of that touch made his whole body go weak. It had been far too long since Anaxa had touched him with such unconditional gentleness.
Anaxa’s fingers brushed lightly through his hair, each strand slipping between his knuckles.
“Even if you say you’re no longer human…” he murmured, almost a whisper, “I still see you as very much human, Phainon.”
Phainon lowered his head even further, avoiding the need to answer. Yet that warm hand remained steady upon his hair. In that moment, he allowed himself to be honest, to indulge in that gentleness—just once—like a student who had always placed absolute trust in the teacher he admired more than anyone.
If only time could stand still.
______
That night, when Phainon returned to the small house in Okhema to pack his things, darkness had already fallen and the moon hung high in the sky.
His phone vibrated softly on the table. A message from Aglaea — perhaps Anaxa had said something.
“Meet us tomorrow morning at the gate of the Janusopolis ruins. Everyone will try to come say goodbye before you leave.”
Phainon froze. His heart raced, his throat went dry.
He had thought he was ready to face everyone, yet a single message was enough to make his palms sweat.
He had planned to visit each person on his own—yet here they were, wanting to come see him off themselves.
Did anyone truly want to see him?
Phainon didn’t dare to hope, yet deep down, a small spark of longing remained. He wanted to see Castorice and Tribbie. He owed them an apology. Their wishes, though partially fulfilled, were still far from complete. Castorice—who had longed for a normal life, to touch others without bringing death—still had to remain in the Netherworld, bearing the role of Death. Her touch no longer harmed anyone, yet fate still bound her to a place no one could freely enter. And Tribbie… Even having been reunited with Trianne and Trinnon, they could never truly return to what they once were, only fragments of souls quietly walking alongside one another.
Phainon clenched his fists.
If he could see them one more time, all he wanted to say was sorry—that he had let them endure too much, and perhaps, had disappointed them.
He sat dazed beside the half-open suitcase, letting his thoughts drift, until Kevin’s voice called out from the living room:
“Phainon, can you cook? I’m hungry.”
Phainon looked up, slightly surprised. “What do you want to eat? I’ll cook it for you.”
“Do you know instant noodles?”
“Then give me the recipe.”
Kevin smiled, carrying the ingredients into the small kitchen.
In that little kitchen, the sound of boiling water mingled with the clatter of chopsticks against the pot. Steam fogged the window, reflecting the soft yellow light. Two figures—one cold, one warm—stood side by side stirring the noodles, occasionally letting out quiet laughs at each other’s little stories.
_______
The next morning, Phainon arrived at Janusopolis before dawn had even broken. Morning dew clung to the stone steps, reflecting the pale sky. Kevin, still a little sleepy, walked beside him.
“I’m really troubling you… I just—”
“Take as long as you need,” Kevin firmly interrupted. “Anyway, seeing so many people again today… wasn’t exactly what you expected.”
As the first rays of sunlight spilled over the stone arches, familiar figures gradually emerged from the distance. Kevin gently tapped Phainon’s shoulder, then stepped back, giving space for them.
There was Aglaea, alongside the trio Demigods of Passage: Tribbie, Trianne, and Trinnon.
“We’ve heard about you from Naxy. Snowy, we support your decision,” their three voices blended together, clear and bright like chimes.
Aglaea stepped closer, her eyes full of gentle warmth. “Phainon, you’ve worked so hard…” she said, her voice catching. “I hope your journey goes smoothly.”
She leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against his forehead—a touch both comforting and like a silent blessing.
Phainon froze. He had never imagined he could still deserve such gentleness.
“Snowy, will you let us ruffle your hair?”
The corners of his eyes were slightly damp. Clearly, he hadn’t become the Deliverer everyone had once hoped for—but no one blamed him. They still smiled at him, treating him with the same warm affection as in the old days.
Phainon bent down to their level, hiding the tears that had just sprung. He stammered out apologies, disjointed and incomplete, but they responded only with gentle touches.
Tribbie gently ruffled his hair, softly humming the melodies that once echoed when Phainon had first arrived in Okhema as a wide-eyed youth. Trianne lightly tousled his silver hair, trying to coax a laugh out of him. Meanwhile, Trinnon quietly wiped away the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
Every small gesture, every smile, was warm and familiar to the point of aching.
In the end, they offered their wishes for his safety before leaving, the faint scent of flowers lingering in the air, along with the warmth of their touches still clinging to his skin.
Phainon’s body began to heat up again, yet those lingering touches were like a spring breeze, soothing the fierce flames within him.
Kevin had returned at some point without him noticing; his hand rested lightly on Phainon’s shoulder, cooling the heat that burned against his skin.
___
Once the shadows of the Demigods had fully faded, they finally saw Hyacine and Anaxa approaching. Phainon froze for a moment—he hadn’t expected Anaxa to come all the way here. He had thought yesterday’s meeting would be the last.
“You didn’t really think I’d skip seeing my student off, did you?” Anaxa’s voice carried that familiar edge, yet his eyes shone with pride and a subtle, unnamable tenderness.
Hyacine smiled, stepping forward to embrace Phainon.
“We haven’t been holding that against you for a long time. Now, be kind to yourself.”
Those words caught in Phainon’s throat. The phrase “be kind to yourself” sounded so simple, yet through all the endless loops, he had never known how to start.
“Professor Anaxa, you don’t need to be shy around us,” Hyacine said, half-teasing, half-serious, spreading her arms in invitation.
The scholar just clicked his tongue lightly, his reluctance unable to hide the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. At last, Anaxa stepped forward, embracing both of them in his arms.
In the morning light, their shadows merged as one—silent yet warm, like a farewell that didn’t need words.
______
The sun stood high, the midday light pouring over the ruins like a sheet of molten gold on the scattered stones. Cipher and Castorice arrived at that moment—through the hazy heat, their figures gradually emerged at the end of the old path.
Phainon hurriedly offered them the meal he had just cooked.
“You really know how to cook, little savior of ours” Cipher said teasingly, as if nothing had ever come between them. The carefree gesture overrode all the criticisms of past loops.
Phainon just bowed his head slightly, a quiet smile flickering across his face before fading away.
“I’m really going to miss these dishes… Hey, what’s with that look?” Cipher paused slightly, noticing the unspoken guilt and regret that filled Phainon’s eyes.
“Phainon,” Castorice spoke before he could say anything further, “we didn’t come here to hear you apologize.”
Still, he whispered: “But… Castorice… I couldn’t even help you fulfill your smallest dream. I once told you not to wish for a normal life, because… you deserved to live one. And yet, in the end, I—”
Castorice’s hand intertwined with his, squeezing gently.
“My wish has already come true, Phainon,” she said softly. “This touch… no longer brings the cold of death.”
Cipher suddenly interjected, reproaching: “The way you carry everything on your own shoulders really gets on my nerves, kid.”
Despite her words, her voice was unusually gentle. Both hands played with Phainon’s hair, like an older sister soothing a younger sibling.
“In short, just live well. And when you find happiness, remember to come back—we’ll still be here waiting.”
They both drew him into a hug. Phainon closed his eyes, as if trying to etch this moment into memory. Their warmth seeped through his clothes, easing the emptiness that time could never fill.
His heart was lightening—the anxiety and torment that had weighed so heavily on his chest finally began to fade.
________
The sunset stretched across the fractured walls of Janusopolis, staining the ruins in a deep crimson. The time to depart was drawing near, yet one person had still not arrived — the Demigod of Strife, the crowned prince of Kremnos, Mydeimos. The man was known by many names, but to him, he was simply Mydei, the close comrade who had fought by his side through countless life-and-death battles. Across millions of cycles, Mydei had always treated Khaslana the same way he treated Phainon — with respect, honesty, and unwavering trust.
But the wait dragged on, agonizing like an unhealed wound. Inside Phainon, a creeping fear took hold: perhaps he wouldn’t come. For in millions of cycles, there had been far too many times when Phainon had become the thing Mydei despised most. The coward, the broken mind, the betrayer who had killed him.
The familiar clang of metal rang out. Phainon lifted his head.
That hair still shone like the sunset, those amber eyes still held the steadfast gaze that he had always admired and trusted.
But as Mydei stepped closer, one deliberate step at a time, Phainon felt a surge of panic. He instinctively took half a step back. He had longed to see Mydei again, yet now, facing him after all the pain he had caused, fear gripped him.
Mydei’s hand reached out before Phainon could turn away.
Without a word, Mydei stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. The embrace was sudden, intense, leaving Phainon momentarily gasping—as if Mydei feared that letting go for even a second would make the person before him vanish. The warmth from him seeped through layer after layer of clothing, stiffening Phainon’s body. One beat… then another, and he finally trembled in response. His fingers dug lightly into Mydei’s shoulders, as if that was the only proof this was real.
Neither of them spoke. Only the wind and the echo of their heartbeats filled the heavy silence.
Mydei stepped back just half a pace, still holding Phainon’s hand. He guided that trembling hand to rest on his back, right over the vertebrae that Phainon’s blade had pierced countless times. Phainon froze, then hot tears welled up and spilled over.
“Mydei…” his voice choked, but Mydei only shook his head softly.
“Deliverer,” he murmured, deep, warm and slow “through countless loops, I have never feared facing you.”
His fingers brushed gently across Phainon’s cheek, wiping away the falling tears.
“You’ve always had a fragile heart… yet it’s why you’ve never turned your back on humanity.”
Mydei took a deep breath, his warm exhale brushing against Phainon’s ear.
“But it’s all in the past now. All you need to be is Phainon.”
“This time… live for yourself.”
Phainon buried his face in Mydei’s shoulder, sobs escaping after such a long time of holding them back.
He had once thought he needed to stay away from the others, having caused them so much pain, but in the end, it was his avoidance that hurt them the most.
Mydei said nothing, only held him tighter, one hand sliding gently to the back of his neck, soothing as if to ease everything. Phainon let himself melt into that embrace—until he caught the faint scent of smoke.
“Mydei! You’re burning!” Phainon panicked, trying to pull away from the embrace.
Smoke rose from the skin on his arm, red streaks spreading quickly across his flesh. But Mydei only gave a soft smile.
“It’s nothing,” his voice hoarse. “I can bear it. This little pain… is nothing compared to what you’ve endured.”
He lowered his head, their foreheads touching, and whispered so softly that only Phainon could hear:
“You are the most precious person to me… No matter what happens, I’ll stay by your side.”
Mydei gently squeezed his hand, murmuring “Whenever you wish to return…I’ll be at the Garbaniphoro Library waiting for you.”
Those words caught in Phainon’s throat.
He had never believed himself deserved this kind of affection, but Mydei’s warm, gentle, and yearning embrace made him want to believe, and to return it.
Phainon smiled, his voice trembling slightly:
“Then… it’s a date, Mydei.”
____
From a distance, Kevin watched silently.
Phainon was surrounded by his comrades—hugs, laughter, and warm, affectionate gazes. Each fragment came together to form a gentle vision that made Kevin’s chest tighten.
A heart that had seemed frozen for years now softened slightly. A faint, unfamiliar yet familiar joy welled up within him.
It had been so long since he felt this—the feeling of seeing someone at peace, loved, and accepted.
For a fleeting moment, Kevin felt as though he had returned to those days with his friends, with his comrades. Carefree afternoons on the basketball court, the rare gatherings where everyone from Fire Moth was present, the sunlit grass in dreams of reunion—moments of peace he had once believed he would never find again.
Phainon’s friends had summoned him to help Phainon. Yet, in the process, it seemed Kevin himself was being saved as well.
Fate truly works in mysterious ways.
Kevin looked at Phainon one last time—lingering, taking in every detail—before gripping the teleportation device the Trailblazer had given him.
He let out a soft chuckle, whispering to himself: “Perhaps… it’s time to return.”
The teleportation light flickered briefly. And in that fleeting moment before it vanished, the smile at the corner of his lips remained—peaceful, and complete.