Chii.

“I’ll distract them,” he said firmly. There was a bit of finality in it, meaning he was not open for argument.

“Wait– how? You only have one grenade,” and at the same time he reached for a stored red and white umbrella adjacent to him. Glancing it a bit made you and Grace to also look at the umbrella in his hand before his voice pierced through you two’s minds.

“Just do your thing,” before shutting the door behind him.

Grace’s concerned and confused eyes darted to you, sending a silent message of, ‘How will he survive?’. You understood her concern, but you also knew Leon for a long while. Flashing a small smile, you simply gave her a word of reassurance, “Just trust him. I’m sure he has a way.”

—

“Let’s get this done,” he corrected his grip on the umbrella before swinging it right across an incoming zombie’s face, destroying its rotten head in one swift move. Then another came from his right. Instinctively, he moved his grip to send a powerful motion, making it hit the wall and stagger before he kicked it, once more obliterating the creature’s head.

However, as if they were actively wanting to die once more, another one popped out suddenly by pushing the one in front of it aside, nearing him from his left in speed. Its hand almost caught his shoulder and possibly messed up his momentum. Thankfully his mind thought quickly and his body responded just as fast. Hooking its hand with the umbrella’s handle then swinging it to the right before unhooking the hand to stab right on its head.

The fight went on, seemingly never ending, yet he prevailed. Countless bodies lay beneath his feet, a solid proof the fight had been going for a while. He kept swaying left and right, avoiding attacks, before he himself took the turn to kill them. He did best in scenarios such as this, but even that did not mean he was invincible. The infection progressed to creep up his head; he choked his breath a couple of times albeit always managing to recover before it got worse, his vision blurred, his head spun, and he barely managed to avoid an attack.

His umbrella was held horizontally across a zombie’s jaw, holding it firm because as it turns out its slacking jaw was still strong enough to munch something. He jerked the umbrella in the hopes to make it let go its grip on the umbrella, but to no avail. He allowed the first to fail, but he would make sure the second one succeeded, more so with how the seemingly dead body underneath his feet began to squirm.

He was battling not only with a bunch of infected swarms but also with time. He jerked the umbrella again, with more power this time, and the grip was finally off, sending the earlier zombie stumbling backwards, hitting a few others. Wasting no more time, he stabbed the squirming body right through its eye socket, ceasing the motion once again.

Leon let out a sigh, exhaustion starting to take a toll on his body. But he could not stop, not when swarms of zombies were still present and there were still people he needed to protect. However, as he readied his weapon, perfecting his stance, the crowd in front of him went still. It was jarring of course, what kind of nasty surprise do they have for him?

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested,” but as he lunged forward, a zombie repeated his earlier move, successfully halting him immediately. It jerked its invisible umbrella to the air twice with their extra sluggish steps before planting it on the land. One zombie was already weird, now a few others followed it. They grumbled, they groaned, they… laughed?

The gesture was repeated over and over again like that was the only thing occupying their nonexistent mind. Leon was confused, but stayed on guard, however, nothing too reluctant to learn what they were invested in.

—

“Come on, Grace. Think. Think,” she chanted to herself, panic thick in her voice. “Leon’s having a–”

“Good time,” you cut her, prompting her to whip her head towards you while letting out the smallest audible ‘Huh?’, but you simply shrugged and jutted your chin out, towards the window where it shows Leon… ‘fighting.’

Grace followed your line of sight, and there she witnessed something that her brain could never wrap around. Outside, Leon had his umbrella behind his neck, doing a little spin before ducking his head, creating a clear path for his umbrella to hit a few of zombies’ heads. “Is that–?” She stammered after a long while due to how bizarre the happening outside was.

“Umbrella,” you finished her sentence before continuing, “Rihanna,” with a voice notably smaller than the previous. It was subtle, the dance was seamlessly incorporated with his battle stance, yet it was clear enough what was going on inside his head. As to why he did that? Or was this the distraction he mentioned? Who knows.

You watched him placing the umbrella on his nape again, did a few steps to the left before thrusting the end tip of the umbrella right through an incoming zombie’s neck. At the same time, another lunged out of nowhere, which attack he barely avoided. He did stumble backwards but managed to prop the umbrella just in time, saving him from getting devoured. Even then, he got up not as he usually would. He swung the umbrella in his hand back and forth a couple times, as if inviting the zombies to follow him– which surprisingly did, before swinging it upwards, hitting the jaw and sending one flying, creating a bowling pin-like effect, while he himself turned around following the momentum of his attack.

Both of your eyes were glued on his busy figure before Grace mused absent-mindedly. “I didn’t know he’s that flexible,” that comment caught you off guard, waking you up from your trance.

Right, you both were distracted.

“Right, uhmm… Okay, we– we need to focus on our task at hand,” you said, refocusing her. Your fingers groggily began to type once again, and she was back analyzing the puzzle in front of her as well. In the middle of it, you whispered to yourself, “Didn’t know you still got it, Leon,” as you shook your head in disbelief.

—

“This can’t go on any longer,” he muttered as he planted the end tip of his umbrella right on an infected’s torso before opening it, effectively blocking a few extended hands, and pushed them back.

He peeked aside and sure enough the crowd grew bigger. He then muttered, “Sorry, but I prefer humans as my fans rather than zombies,” while fetching his grenade before yanking the umbrella back. He pulled the safety pin while doing a little turn, carefully keeping his hand hidden from the eyes of the zombies.

He did not know what else he should do, repeating the same movement might end up putting him in disadvantage. They seemingly used to be fanatics of Rihanna, they would notice he had no idea what to do to dance off to Umbrella.

He glanced down, towards his hand holding the grenade. The pin was off, and in seconds it would detonate. There was only one thing he needed to do…

He pushed the umbrella upwards, making it fly on top of the infected who were too engrossed with the umbrella twirling in the air– or perhaps his performance, while at the same time, he threw the grenade right at their feet. No one noticed his trick, and that brought them to their second demise.

`BOOM

“GOT IT!” Grace cheered along with a faint click, a sign that the lock keeping everyone’s weapon was finally open.

You and Grace rushed towards the save with you opening and giving Grace her weapon, latching yours to your gear, and bringing Leon’s to him, who was just in time to be inside. He uttered no words when he accepted them, only the sound of metals hitting each other filling the room, but you could not help nor you want to keep what you had seen to yourself and Grace.

“Just so you know, the zombies weren’t the only ones you distracted,” you deliberately avoided his eyes. You knew what type of person he was, so you spared him the embarrassment and instead busied yourself checking your weapons. He stayed silent, but once you brought your gaze upwards, you noticed how red the tip of his ears were.

note: even though I’ve known RE since OG RE4, I did not really follow the series until RE9, so, if there are any misused terms, or turns out they're heavily OOC, sorry, that was unintentional :( but still I hope you enjoy this fic that had been plaguing my mind since like 7 days ago

Phainon

“I always see part of my flesh when I wake up,” you said suddenly, gaze fixated afar on whatever your eyes could see. Just not the blue eyes of Phainon’s because you want this moment to be as weird and as dramatic as possible. You always had fun teasing him. “Every month for at least 6 days,” you added, carefully putting a pause in between your sentences to emphasize your message.

By the moment the word ‘I’ left your mouth, he already had his focus on you, and grew even more attentive the further you go. You knew, he knew of everything he had done to you within those 33 million cycles. “Please, I know the memory of 33 million can be overwhelming and downright depressing,” he pleaded, voice almost drowned by the sound of water splashing from the fountain behind you.

“But please, never let it take over you. Just talk to us, to me– or to Hyacine. Please, pleeaseee… love your body and never hurt your–”

“It’s a period,” you said, finally looking at him.

“...????”

“I’m talking about period,” you knew he would react, but you did not expect for him to just jump on THAT kind of conclusion. “Phainon,” You called his name as you smiled. At first he let out a faint laugh, like someone finally waking up from a nightmare, before it turned to a sigh full of relief. You never felt more guilty for teasing him than now.

Mydei

You hummed as he finished his story. “You know, while we’re on the topic, I seem to also have a regenerative ability,” you began, your fingers intertwined as you rested your chin on top of it, deliberately making everything as ambiguous as you can. “In fact, I retain it until now.”

The confusion in his eyes was more than a bliss to you. Who knows how long you had yearned to tease the prince of Castrum Kremnos again. Those damned 33 million cycles pulled all the whimsy out of you and the years worth of teasing. “I lose part of my flesh once a month,” you added, eyes still glued on Mydei’s golden irises. “And that ‘once’ means 7-ish days.”

“???” The more you went, the more confused he became.

“And, obviously, with the lost flesh, I do bleed. And then, I shall wait until everything’s done, return to like how I was before the cycle begins again,” with the parallels between your imagery and Phainon’s past condition, that last sentence must have hit him like the nastiest uppercut he ever received.

“Why– why do you still have the curse?” He asked, curiosity blended with confusion and a tad bit of anger. Ah, what a sight. It was rare to see the prince to be this innocent.

“Curse? It’s a blessing,” so, why would you want to miss the chance to keep him confused? “Well, I have to admit that it’s pretty painful at times, but it does more good than bad.”

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed even deeper than it was that you had to stifle your laugh. “What do you mean pain is good? I know what it feels to lose flesh, blood. I know how it feels better than others. I don’t understand what you mean by ‘does more good than bad.’ What’s so good about ‘dying’?” He asked, voice a pitch higher.

“It’s called a period, Mydeimos,” you laughed as you revealed the answer while he was still in the state of shock. Who knows of what exactly.

“Do you want to feel it too?”

Jing Yuan

“Each night I see myself slipping away,” you began, voice dropped to create a serious atmosphere. This simple yet ambiguous sentence managed to capture Jing Yuan’s focus from the scroll in his hand to you– or maybe he just preferred to do anything else other than his job.

You looked up to see him, and although he concealed it well, you still could see him partially wondering what you were trying to say, partially concerned about you. Seeing how everything fell exactly like how you planned it, you peeled your gaze from his, “For 7– no, for 8 consecutive days I struggled–”

“Are you talking about your period?” He said suddenly, unintentionally making you gasp loudly when his guess hit bullseye. Well, there went your plan.

“How did you knoww??” You dramatically asked. “I deliberately– AW!” In no time you clutched your stomach as your body curled inwards in the hopes to make the pain go away.

Jing Yuan uttered nothing further, simply smiling while his hands were busy pouring a warm tea his retainer brewed from the kettle to your cup. “Once you say ‘7 to 8 days’ I know it’s about a period,” he said as he gave you your cup to which you painstakingly took.

“I just can’t win against the Divine Foresight, can I?” You could only hear his signature soft chuckle from behind your cup.

BONUS

Phainon

It started fine. He was mostly unmoving with a little bit of hisses and ‘ouch’s, sometimes even wondered whether this is the cycle you meant you were in. In fact, you had guessed that he would be unphased with the pain because what is a period pain when he has suffered something more brutal?

But, it seemed that your calculation was wrong.

Right when it hit 6 his hisses turned a little bit louder and annoyed than it was, and when it hit 7 he started to double down in pain. As expected from a period pain simulator, there would be some ‘surprises’ in-between the ‘relief’ phase, and when it came he almost found himself cursing. In fact, he did… in his way.

“Who do I need to fight for this?” He seethed as his blue hair gradually turned yellow. Okay, you did not expect this kind of reaction from him.

You racked your brain trying to find a way to calm him down, and decided to, “Well, you just accept it,” just tell him the painful truth. You had never seen someone whip their head so fast that you winced in pain when you saw Phainon looking at you, disbelief in his eyes, through his bangs.

Perhaps he thought it was unfair if his type of cycle has someone– something behind the scene while yours does not.

Boothill

“Haha… what is this? This is nothing,” he said, full of confidence. “Your period pain simulator wouldn’t do anything to my body, you know. It’s designed for flesh not metals,” he added, still with his signature wide grin.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Ever expect me to find a way to have you feel what I feel?” You said as you showed him a small remote. He raised an eyebrow, trying to guess what your question meant, but as soon as your finger pressed on one of the buttons– you deliberately set it on 5, that he instantly doubled down in pain.

“*Cosmic profanities*. *Cosmic profanities*. This is worse than being shot. *Cosmic profanities* this. *Cosmic profanities* with this pain.”

Uh… oops! Maybe you tinkered too much with his settings.

a/n: it's actually tissues and other things that i can't remember, i'm not sure they can be called flesh of vagina though hahahah

Many had happened after the long slumber Amphoreus experienced. One that carved the most on the hearts of the Astral Express surely would be when Phainon visited the Express for the first time. It was an emotional memory where it began while the Crew was reminded that Amphoreus was still in the form of a book a year after their journey in said planet was done. The parlor car was filled with cries, wails, reassurances, and countless jumbled words that could only express how sad they were realizing Amphoreus has yet to become an actual planet.

“Hi~!” A familiar white haired friend greeted gleefully. The man expected a fleeting silence before cheers erupt, he expected rows of confused faces, he expected nothing happening at all once he stepped into the car, but he certainly did not expect wails and cries to greet him instead. One thing this scene reminded him of is that one meme, as Stelle said, that he saw on her phone of a guy happily-slash-confusedly carrying boxes of pizza while looking at a chaotic room.

No one realized he was there, some were busy crying, some others were busy calming them down. Even if he redo his greeting, he was not sure the result would be different. So he had to resort to the last option…

“Partner.”

“Ah! Alexa?!” That was, unfortunately, to shock everyone. But no one could believe their eyes that they just immediately returned to their previous activity. Fortunately, the newly born human understood their situation that he simply chose to do what he did again. After all, that was what he was best at.

“Partner, Amphoreus exists,” he said, his hand resting on Stelle’s shoulder lightly, seizing her focus on him as he gazed outside, towards a newly born Amphoreus. “It exists. Because of you.”

From there, he had learned so many things about the outside worlds– though as of now they were not so outside anymore, including…

“*Cosmic profanities*!!!” Loud gasps were heard right after Stelle cursed while throwing her phone aside. In barely a second after she groaned, those amber eyes of hers quickly followed the source of the sound, and found two hands of Dan Heng’s and March’s covering each of Phainon’s ears while yours sat on top of theirs, furthering the noise reduction function, curses that was.

“You shouldn’t say that in front of a… baby!” March said with such a betrayal in her face as Dan Heng followed her with…

“You really didn’t set a good example for the innocent, Stelle,” as he shook his head, disappointment apparent on his face while Phainon’s remained oblivious.

“What kind of parent are you, really,” You asked, pained for what she had done.

“What are you guys talking about?” Asked both. However, while Stelle’s tone was almost offended, Phainon’s was of innocence. It was even displayed by the sparks in his eyes when he looked at March, Dan Heng, and you, seeking for an answer.

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head while looking down, at him, as you flashed a smile.

“What is your problem?” You averted your gaze as it now returned to the culprit, the bad apple, the ‘irresponsible’ parent of the four, Stelle. She looked at you with disbelief in her eyes.

“What is MY problem?” She parotted as a pity laugh followed. “I lost my 50/50 on Cyrene’s banner. ON PITY 80!” Her hand was dragged across her face as she sighed loudly, pain apparent in not only her voice but also action.

“Wait, you too?” You asked as your hand slid off from the top March and Dan Heng’s hands, reducing the noise isolation effectivity altogether.

“Huh? You too?” March now joined, her eyes glancing at you and Stelle back and forth. But none of you expected for Dan Heng to also have a say.

“So, we all lost our 50/50 on Miss Cyrene’s banner, huh?” And just like that, as your fate intertwined with them, you found yourself sitting in a circle with Stelle sitting in front of you, March on your left, and Dan Heng on your right, leaving only Phainon sitting on the bed.

“Phainon, you’re not joining in?” March asked as she put her phone on her lap, its screen displaying the game’s loading screen.

The new Nameless hummed in response, his hand found its way to his temple, scratching it absentmindedly. “Uhmm… I just got her,” he said as he showed his phone. In there, the four pairs of eyes saw 2 lit up shards which could only mean…

“E2???!!” Stelle exclaimed.

One second, there was peace, and the other, there was chaos. The edges between the two were blurry, you had no idea when the other came to flip the situation upside down. You thought the Herta Space Station was mostly a safe space.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The outside worlds were just as dangerous as Amphoreus used to be, and perhaps will ever be, that was the one important lesson you could take while you embark with the Astral Express crew. It was merely on a different level of danger. With the outside world being twice, if not, thrice more dangerous.

“Where is Phainon?” Your hoarse and trembling voice demanded Stelle an answer almost desperately as you could not see your beloved brother. You knew from Dan Heng, who just arrived at the makeshift meeting point, that he parted ways with Phainon in the Storage area and was last seen together with Stelle.

You felt bad for demanding an answer right when she just arrived, battered and wounded, at the meeting point. She obviously more than needed someone to tend her wound rather than to answer your question, but she was never a bad person, so she laid the truth of the situation.

“Just like with Dan Heng and March, we also parted ways in the Seclusion Zone. Our map signalled that there were people stuck on two different floors. We both agreed to– WAIT! HEY. IT’S DANGEROUS OUT THERE!!” The call of your name turned into background noises. You could not bring yourself to care what might happen to you later. You were no fighter, you fought decently, your brother was better than you in that regard. But despite it all, your brother always comes first to you.

Your legs brought you to the Seclusion Zone, each step desperate, yearning to meet Phainon. ‘The Seclusion Zone has three levels, how will I manage to find him quick enough?’ You thought as you avoided the enemies’ radar swiftly. The Herta Space Station was plagued with similar creatures to one birthed by the Black Tide. The reason was obvious, they both came from the same source, that being the Destruction.

Your breath hitched, uneven, you felt like instead of breathing properly, you were holding your breath instead. Each breath you took, the oxygen felt less and less comfortable. It grew sharper, uncomfortable, it felt more like you were inhaling thorns. Your vision turned blurry as you ran down the endless hallways. You grew desperate each door you passed, mind starting to split between calming down and pushing forward. Until you heard a guttural shriek from one of the rooms that your mind fully crumbled.

You knew that room led to nowhere, meaning anyone stuck inside would have no hope in escaping once the Antimatter Legion showed up. You had no idea what pushed you to approach the said room, you did not even have enough power to blaze through the enemies to save anyone. However, you were reminded who you needed to find, who, despite any odds, you must save.

Stepping inside the room you saw numerous enemies, most were dead while the others were gravely injured, if you could say. Yet your eyes did not stay on them, they scanned the room, looking for a strand of the familiar white hair. “Phainon!” You bravely called, ignoring the danger of being noticed by the enemies.

As your eyes thoroughly sweep the room, only now you realize that you missed how the enemies were facing one direction. Following them, you saw a creature? No, human hovering above the despicable creatures of the Destruction. His golden eyes glued on you, widened, and yours on him. He was almost familiar. You recognize the shape of the eyes, the curves of the face, the proportion of his body, yet he was all strange to you at the same time.

You parted your lips, words almost coming out of your mouth, calling the name you were unsure the human above to be the owner or not. However, your eyes too caught how his hands reached out to you, as if trying to grasp something so out of reach, his distraught expression enough to warn you of the creature creeping from behind.

“Watch out!” That familiar voice so desperately yelled. And perhaps your reaction time was too good that it was terrible that you turned around quickly enough and gave the blade of those lowly creatures a good trajectory to pierce through you.

You could feel the familiar taste bubbling in your mouth, one that you have grown sick of tasting, one that you have tasted for more than 33 million times. As your legs wobble forward, your brother’s hand kept you steady as his other hand slashed the enemies within the vicinity, turning them to dust. His anguish cry made the memories you almost forgot resurface, but you could do little to ease his sorrow.

As your blood reached the ground, so did you and Phainon. His hand shaking as he tried to cover your gaping wound, recalling every training he did while being the guard of Okhema, yet none came to mind on how to cover such a wound. All he could remember was that such a wound meant a death sentence for the bearer.

He shook his head hard, throwing away such pessimistic thoughts. “Stay with me,” he said, voice too calm to be taken as natural. He tried to busy himself with doing something so futile, yet you dare not to say anything lest he might break, and you never wish for him to cry. So instead, you simply stared at him as he tended your wound, taking in what might be the last second you see him.

You tried your best to keep your breath even so as to not break his focus, but the wound was too much for you to handle that you let your breath hitch occasionally. If he heard how ragged your breath was, he did not comment, he chose to ignore it. “Please press this part as hard, as firm as you can. I’ll take care of the back side,” he spoke again, voice still too calm, too stoic to be taken as natural.

“I’ll be calling the medics. Please stay awake while I’m on the phone,” he added as his hand fetched his phone. You nodded weakly before saying…

“I’ll… try my best,” just as weak. And perhaps your voice finally woke him up from the prolonged reverie he forced himself to be in because now you could see how firm his grip on his phone was, you could see how his eyes were glistening, you could see how he tried his best to compose himself when talking to the medics despite the urgency in his words.

“The medics are on the way. It won’t take long,” he said, daring himself to look you in the eyes, intending to calm you and himself down. But at that time too he realized that that was the wrong thing to do because as soon as he saw your face, the truth of your condition hit him like a train.

He tried his best to control himself, but all the memories he had made with you back in Aedes Elysiae to Okhema to the few planets you had been to resurfaced. “Please…” he whimpered, his free hand now gripping your hand as if that was the last thing keeping him sane. “Please, stay with me,” you could not see his face clearly, yet his trembling voice was a clear sign that he could no longer hold his tears back.

One bead of tears fell on top of your hand as he tried to remind you of your shared promise and goal. “We promised to stick together until the Destruction is no more,” he whispered lowly as his head hung lower than it was.

“We promised we’ll drink the Steamed Puffergoat Milk from Luofu. We promised we’ll volunteer together at the Underground Jarilo-VI. We promised we’ll watch Ms. Robin’s concert in Penacony.”

“You promised to me you’ll teach me how to bake, how to cook to defeat Mydei. You promised you’ll listen to each and every story I have for you. You promised you would attend my wedding,” you stayed silent, listening attentively to everything his heart had to pour, ignorant to how he was frantically catching his breath. You had lost count how many times your vision turned blurry as you blinked your tears away. In all honesty, you had no idea whether it was because of your tears or your consciousness waning.

“I promised you you’ll be the first one to know who the person I love is,” his trembling voice added, and you could feel another drop of tears fall right onto your hand. “If you leave, how will I fulfill my promise? How could I keep my promise?”

In your bloodied and weakened state, you tried your best to form a smile, one that you hoped could ease his worry, even for the slightest, even for barely one second. “Phainon,” you called softly, earning his full attention. You repositioned your hand to wrap his big one. “Who… said that I’m going?” You playfully asked as you gazed up, meeting his pair of golden eyes.

“I won’t go… anywhere. I… will always… be with you. We still can… fulfill our promises… together,” a smile still adorning your face albeit your voice barely above whisper as a result of your consciousness slipping. “Because existing… in someone’s memory… means that…” you could feel your breath was taken from you, slowly but surely.

“...That person will keep… on living.”

You felt the weariness you had been holding finally catched up on you. You knew you should not sleep or you would lose your life, but perhaps a little nap would be okay, and thus you follow what your heart tells you. As you closed your eyes, you deeply hoped that your words would resonate through him, and pushed him forward. You hoped for everything the best for your dear brother.

The wings used to be so emotionless curled inwards, enveloping a lifeless body and the great sorrow of a brother who had lost one of his lights. Underneath it, hid a wail that was forcibly swallowed, a tear that could not reach the land, and a hug that could never be reciprocated. Despite desperate attempts were made to share his body warmth, the body stayed cold. Then, what use was his high body temperature if it could not be shared with his dearest people?

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the medics silently, painfully so, retreating, but he could not bring himself to greet them. He was not in the emotional capacity to. The loss he currently felt was far greater than it used to be. This was not Amphoreus. You had gone in a foreign soil. Far from your home. Far from the dream that set you off. There will be no cycle reset like it used to. He will not be able to see you again like it used to.

He lost you forever.

“Gorgeous as always, dear sister,” Flins greeted first, his eyes glued to the content of the envelope his sister just sent him. In it, alongside her own letter, showed a picture of her in a white dress with her signature wide hat. She always preferred a wide, floppy hat rather than anything else or none at all. A pity, he thought, her sister’s hair is as shiny as the gems in his possession.

“My, my… You always have a way with words, Flins.”

“Since you used to be a heliobus, I can see why you’re pyro, but might I ask why you chose white dress instead of anything on the darker side?” He asked rather innocently for a person– creature to be precise, who had existed for more than 500 years. “Dark purple, perhaps?” He tilted his head unconsciously.

Constance let out a slight hum. “Hmm… I like this white dress since it has accompanied me throughout my life, witnessing the deaths of myself and memories alike,” she patiently explained, her voice calm and eerie as usual. “And contrasting the ashes left by my blue flame. Don’t you think it looked pretty?”

“I see…” Flins promptly said. “A contrasting color to what was left by ourselves. It does look pretty, dear sister.”

“Right?” She then chuckled. “Maybe you should consider changing the color of your coat, dear. Pale blue or light purple would look good on you. Moreover you have lightning in your arsenal, right?”

The other absent-mindedly nodded his head. “Yes, I do,” he confirmed. “Maybe I’ll ask a trusted tailor to make one for an occasional suit. I’ve grown accustomed to this dark coat, and I don’t plan to attract more gazes as it already is.”

“My, how humble you are,” another chuckle left Constance’s lips. “Or perhaps I could send you one– not my dress, of course. I mean a sister’s eyes are always more keen than a brother’s.”

“There’s no need, dear sister. I know someone who could help me.”

“Oh? Someone indebted to you, perhaps?” She guessed, voice sly as if deliberately pushing her brother to confess. “Or one of your victims? You have the graveyard by yourself, if my memory serves me right.”

This time it was Flins who let out a laugh, a soft one at that. “The graveyard I’ve been guarding is unlike yours, Miss Dahlia. The ghosts here are not my victims, they are, rather, my fallen comrades,” he explained carefully, not wanting his words to come off as an insult to her graveyard. “But to satiate your curiosity, if you are curious, there’s someone who called himself Traveller. In your world, maybe he is like the Trailblazer of the Astral Express.”

“I hope he’d be willing to help,” he said, hopeful.

“Mm… I mean, he has to,” she began, and Flins could guess what her next word would be. “Otherwise, he has to sacrifice his dearest memory,” she added, her voice as calm as still water, yet her message as sharp as thorn.

Flins let out a chuckle. If his elegant sentences were rather puzzling, hers were more of staring into the abyss. You never knew if her words held its supposed meaning or not. “Please refrain yourself from causing further suffering to him, dear sister. He has suffered enough, and has helped me countless of times. I suppose that’s enough to have some mercy from you?”

A chuckle followed with a hum responded to him. “Okay, okay, dear brother, I hear your proposal. I guess I’ll let him go,” a slight pause. “For now,” she added, ease in her demeanor, perhaps even nonchalant.

“Well, it’s a pity I have to cut our conversation short. I still missed you, but I have something to do and I’m pretty sure you too have reports to write–”

“Please, don’t remind me of that particular responsibility of mine,” he cut her words, earning a laugh of both pity and joy from himself and his sister respectively.

“Okay. Let me revise that,” Constance said still with a slight chuckle in her words. “I’m sure you still have work to attend to. Then, I won’t bother you any longer. See you, dear brother. May our flames burn as bright as the sun, may it rekindle the hopes once lost.”

“See you, dear sister,” he said with a faint smile adorning his face. A pity indeed that the meeting with his sister had to be cut short. They had not met since, at least, 500 years ago, the time he decided to have some rest afterall. Obviously, as similar as it would be to human siblings, they would miss each other.

“If you missed me so much, which I do, by the way, you can visit me in my dreams anytime. You didn’t forget that I can dream now, right?”

Constance nodded to herself. “Right, I almost forgot you acquired yourself a human body along with its function. How envious,” she expressed since she had sacrificed her body for the Remembrance. “I surely will once I get the time. Then, let’s see each other again in the near future, dear Flins.”

“I’m looking forward to it, dear Constance.”

“Little–,” you managed to slip up his title. This was the effect of talking for a prolonged time with Cipher you suppose, yet, thankfully, the Castrum Kremnos’s prince seemed to be unbothered by your slip up as the horizon ahead seemed to be more interesting to him. “Your Highness, we have returned,” you announced.

“Apology for my late arrival, but Aidonia should’ve been safe for, at least, the next 5 years. We have built stations within the suggested perimeter of Black Tide’s core, and we also have sent Aidonia our aids per your request.”

“I know,” he curtly said.

“Pardon?”

“I know you’ve arrived for, at least, an hour ago,” Mydei, the Kremnoan Prince, finally turned around, revealing his, full of suspicion, golden eyes. You stayed silent, keeping an innocent facade to the best you could.

“May I know what was the reason of your accusation?”

“My cookie,” he said as he shut his eyes, carefully trying to compose himself. “One of the twelve cookies I’ve baked went missing,” you had to bite the inside of your cheek just to prevent yourself from smiling. You needed to avoid further suspicion.

One thing that you always loved to do beside fighting was none other than teasing Mydei, and his innocence always managed to bring you the best scenario. What else should you do before taking advantage of the situation?

“Have you considered the possibility that it was not me who took it?” You suggested, voice undeniably calm. You knew you sounded genuine about your suggestion, you had honed this particular skill for quite awhile after all, and managed to trick the poor prince more than once.

“I know it’s you,” you knew he was strong-headed, but you never expected he would be reckless and perhaps… desperate.

“What an accusation," you said as you folded your hands in front of your chest, relaxing as the topic did not demand formality. There went the next step of gaslighting the prince. “You do realize you just did something so against your rules, right?”

Creating baseless accusations and acting on it was akin to doing one of the seven deadly sins to Kremnoans. The realization that as the one who enacted the law was the one to also do it must have been a crushing one.

“Go on, Prince Mydeimos,” you began as a faint smile bloomed on your face. “‘Confession’ exists in the Kremnoan language, you know?” You said nonchalantly, deliberately sending the phrase he loved to use so much back to him.

If this was a novel you read, you knew the author would write that the Crowned Prince had his veins popping.

The Prince’s lips parted for a second before closing again, seemingly wanting to retaliate but could not due to the display of absolute glory you put on your face. He knew you were right, but he knew too he was right. If you said he was making a baseless accusation, that was correct. He, indeed, did not have enough evidence to prove that you were the one behind the missing cookie, but he could not say that his accusation was entirely out of nowhere either when you had been the long-standing culprit who took his cookies ever since you were assigned as his general. You surely took advantage of your age.

After a few more minutes of hesitation, a heavy sigh then escaped his lips. “Right. I pinned such a harsh and baseless accusation on you.”

You hummed at his resignation. The sound felt like a harmonious string of angels’ harps. “Hm. Well, since you’ve accused me of theft, might as well take advantage of it,” you said as you took another one of his cookies making two missing cookies.

“Wait. I haven’t given you permission,” too late. The cookie had melted in your mouth, and you could not help but also melted due to how delicious the cookie in your mouth was. Kremnoans had always lived in the thrill of battle, bloodshed was like their bosom friend, never too far from their lives. However, the fact that the Prince of the said ruthless nation was so good in baking and cooking, that would certainly come off as shocking news even to Kremnoans.

“Well, didn’t you always say ‘What’s yours is mine’ to me?” That left Mydei’s mouth agape. Unable to believe what he just heard.

“That is indeed what I often say to you,” he began. “But that doesn’t mean you can use it against me,” he continued as he walked towards the spread of his baked cookies.

“The words weren’t meant to be used by anyone– You know what. Fine,” he cut himself short, not in the mood to argue with you. “Let’s get back to the topic at hand.”

“The cookies lack chocolate,” you said promptly before he managed to say anything else. After all, you were his most trusted general, trained to give information to him without being asked. “If you intended to give it to someone around the age of 30 and above. Yes, this is the desired sweetness. However, if you are planning to give it to the children of Castrum Kremnos, this could have more sweetness to it."

This did not align with what Mydei had in mind, however. His shocked expression was a tell tale sign that you misunderstood his words. “I didn’t mean the cookies,” he started as a pause followed. He was unsure whether to break your confidence or let you have the moment by continuing the conversation. “Aidonia,” he chose the former, however.

The two of you instantly closed both eyes, avoiding each other’s gaze, avoiding the awkwardness that was starting to form in the kitchen.

You groggily cleared your throat before putting down your cookie on a tissue, trying your best to regain composure. “Well, based on the data given by Aidonia’s military. North of Aidonia suffered the most from the Black Tide’s attack. About 100 houses were destroyed and more than 200 houses suffered minor to moderate damages. As for the casualties, the hospital stated that around 500 people were victims of the attack, nearly 200 of which were killed with more than half of it being Aidonia’s soldiers.”

“This data only reflects north of Aidonia. The northwest as well as northeast of Aidonia both bore similar data. One village each consisting of around 50 houses were destroyed with around 100 people were killed fighting the Black Tide,” you sighed as you finished. The information was bleak, and you could feel how your throat tightened as you delivered the information. You managed to put the information to the far back of your head for the time gap between your arrival and Mydei’s call, but now that he asked for the detailed information you could not help but to blame yourself. Perhaps you could arrive earlier if you were not so adamant with commanding the group to take a rest on the second night of the trip or staying behind as your troops return to Castrum Kremnos.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he reassured. “Getting a rest is as important as rescuing people. You did the right thing.”

You absent-mindedly hummed at his reassurance and the room fell silent shortly after, none knew what else to say before two ‘ding’s could be heard. Your eyes followed the prince who hurriedly put on the oven mittens as you chewed your once abandoned cookie. The smell quickly filled the air as he opened the oven door and successfully made your mouth water.

“Can I have some of it?” You asked, pleaded, as soon as he placed the freshly baked cookies down. It was chimera-shaped cookies. You were sure your provider of the earlier cookie, Cipher, would love to taste it as well. Well, she did ask– demand you to give her a different type of cookie back there.

He nodded. “Go ahead,” and you, as quick as lightning, took one and wrapped it inside the earlier tissue you used. It will accompany you writing the long report and then will be sacrificed for your stomach once the time comes.

“Thank you. Then, I’ll excuse myself,” and he once again gave you a simple nod before busying himself with his freshly baked cookies. However, instead of getting out of the kitchen, your hand, still as quick as lightning, snagged another one of chimera cookie before quickly leaving him alone with another missing cookie.

“Here, the exchange you so badly wanted,” you said as you gave her a different type of cookie she gave you, a chimera-shaped cookie, which was obviously one that was made by the crowned prince of Castrum Kremnos, Mydei.

“Then, I’ve fulfilled my end of the deal,” you said. Doing business with Cipher had always been fun. Perhaps because she was your friend, perhaps because she always fulfilled her end of the deal despite being Trickery demigod. Even now, over a simple yet on-going project you two liked to call Project Little Prince that only consisted of a task to taste– steal every Mydei’s freshly-baked cookies, she still did her part of the job splendidly.

“We’ll talk about our next move when I contact you,” just as you said that Cipher immediately took off without giving you a word after the so-called payment. That was when you knew something, or someone who could intimidate her was behind you.

The night engulfed the land of Nod-Krai, its wind chilling to anyone, natives and travelers alike, who dared to step out of their humble residence, yet none of those could stop your legs from walking down its path to nowhere. There was nothing and everything in your mind as you trek the long road of Nod-Krai until it eventually leads you to the Final Night Cemetery. You wondered how you managed to escape the Fatui’s sight considering you must have passed their experimental bureau on the way here, but it was a thought for later. You were grateful that you reached a place so fitting to your condition.

You stepped further deeper into the cemetery, and as any cemetery would be, there was nothing but the sound of your breath accompanying you. Not even wind could offer its voice to you.

“It’s best not to linger here,” a voice from this seemingly desolate land surely would startle anyone, and you were supposed to also get startled. Supposed to. If you were not feeling so numb right now.

“And you?” You turned your body to face the owner of the voice. A few steps ahead of you, you saw a tall man with blue hair. If it was not for your barely functioning senses, you would have thought he was the most attractive man you ever landed your eyes on. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he promptly said, ease in his demeanor.

You hummed. “As in part of the Lightkeeper, a graveyard keeper, or…” you let a slight pause slip in between your sentences, eyes darting around the cemetery before returning to his mysteriously blank irises. “A ghost?” To which he let out a faint smile at, acknowledging your confusion.

“Well, I can assure you I am not a ghost,” the tone he used was laced with honesty, you could ascertain that but the words were, instead, dubious. It was like there was more to his words and his overflowing courtesy did nothing to help, yet you decided to simply play along because pressing on the matter would only be a waste of time.

“Allow me to escort you back home,” he offered after noticing the silence you gave. An offer to which you scoffed at. ‘Home, huh?’ You thought.

“There’s no need,” you said simply. ‘I no longer have one,’ was deliberately left unsaid. From the subtle twitch on his eyebrows to the slight silence he gave you, it was apparent he was having a hard time understanding, or perhaps accepting your answer.

“I see,” he said autonomously. “Then, anything I could help you with?” He offered again. You would certainly find him annoying if it were not for the honesty you could hear in his words.

But again, you turned down his offer. “Just leave me alone,” you said before turning your body around. You readied yourself to be met with another offer or any form of conversation, after all, that was what nosey people would do.

“Then, you won’t see me again,” he said before you heard the rustle of his coat slowly fading away. You did not turn around nor peek to make sure he was gone, all you did was let out a sigh that had been meant to let out three dialogues after you met the self-proclaimed Ratnik and graveyard keeper.

You then go further and closer to the lighthouse, perhaps to see if there was any object that you could use. As you scanned the area, you found a rope on top of the desk and a chair against the desk. It was more than enough. You were sure the ceiling of the base of the lighthouse would suffice too.

With consciousness of a fog, you dragged the chair closer to the edge of the second floor of the lighthouse. It was high and you could barely reach it, but there was no one to ask for help and you did not intend to find anyone either. So you just forced yourself to fulfill what you needed, but a dark wisp to which you did not realize formed hit your eyes, sending a prickling sensation that was not painful but irritating enough to force you to step down from the chair.

You whipped your head left and right harshly, even rubbing both of your eyes trying desperately to get rid of the irritation, but to no avail. The pain was as persistent as the earlier Ratnik. With watering eyes, you staggered towards the nearest body of water to rinse your eyes.

‘10 minutes and we’ll get back,’ you thought as you rinsed your eyes carefully. You cupped the water then let it slide in between your eyelids. You repeated the same thing and eventually stopped after you felt 10 minutes had passed. After wiping your face with your sleeve you returned to the lighthouse, intending to continue where you left off. Only if there was no swarm of people spawning suddenly here, in this Final Night Cemetery.

You let out a long and heavy sigh seeing the Lightkeepers flocking the lighthouse. It seemed that an unknown force was forcing you to bury what you want deep in your heart, perhaps even forcing you to forget it.

“Phainon?”

…

…

…

You furrowed your eyebrows before calling his name again, “Phainon?” Another beat of silence before his eyes slowly fluttered open. A relieved sigh escaped your lips as his sky blue irises came into view. “Are you alright?” Your eyes fixated at his blank gaze.

Phainon stayed silent for another second, as if trying to understand what language you were saying before he nodded his head weakly. Seeing how barely responsive he was, it was as if he had just fallen from the sky, metaphorically of course, and was still in the midst of grasping reality; yet you let out an amused hum before squatting down beside him. With how there were… tears? Running down his cheeks, his condition surely did not mirror what he said.

You absent-mindedly brush your fingers across his cheek, to wipe the tears running down his eyes before expressing. “You surely know how to lie, Phainon,” you pulled your hand to Phainon’s eye level, showing gold substance resting on your index finger.

“Isn’t this a sign of being a Chrysos Heir or something?” An innocent question that Phainon could not help but form a small, genuine smile. It had been so long since the last time he saw you with the vast lake his homeland offers as the background, he barely remembered it even.

Phainon shook his head to answer your question. It was clear as day that you were oblivious about the Chrysos Heirs and the likes of it. It was not only you who paid no mind about the Flame-Chase Journey, but the rest of Aedes Elysiae probably only heard the name as fleeting as the wind.

You hummed in response, “Do you– no, I’ll accompany you. At least until you’re aware of your surroundings,” you sat yourself beside him as you put your basket full of herbs. You should have delivered the herbs to your house as soon as possible, but ‘as soon as possible’ did not equal to five minutes, right?

Silence fell between the two of you. Your gaze fell at your friend’s serene face while he stared at the lake ahead of him. He always had such a calming presence, it was an indisputable fact, but something about his expression was off even though you could not exactly put your finger on it.

Yet gradually the silence became heavier as you saw something you felt like you should not. Phainon had yet to notice it, he was too immersed with how the waves moved that he failed to see how your brows knitted. Only when your fingers ghosted his skin did he snap his head towards you.

The look in your eyes was least readable, it was apparent that you were confused and sad at the same time. As for why, he did not know. That was until you cautiously asked what happened to him.

Those blue eyes resembling the clear sky looked at you with the same amount of confusion, that was until he followed your line of sight and found out what your question meant. Your fingers met the skin on his neck, he could feel how delicate your touch was. He yearned for more, yet his senses had become dull. He barely could feel your touch, let alone indulge in it.

Phainon’s lips parted, about to say something, but he closed it again. He was not sure what to tell you. “Just… say anything. I’ll be the one to decide whether you’re lying or not,” you reassured. Something about how often he swallowed his thoughts only to show a reassuring smile threw you off everytime. How could he take his problems lightly?

Phainon averted his gaze before saying, “Probably something…” yet he kept his answer ambiguous and it did not satisfy you.

A sigh escaped your lips, “Fine,” you said simply, but your fingers still rested on the cut between his skin and whatever it was. It held no color, just plain greyish white akin to clay that made you wonder what had happened in his life while you were away?

Your hands moved, tracing the cut. Occasionally, you touched the very same golden substance from earlier, but you paid it no mind and moved lower to his collarbone. Your mind went blank seeing the gaping ‘wounds’, there was nothing under there as far as your eyes could see; no bones, no flesh, no blood, not even the gold substance that kept grazing your fingers, just void, like a part of a broken statue.

Phainon’s eyes stayed on you, scrutinizing your ever-changing expression, taking in what rare moment he could have. His eyes catched how your eyes slightly widened upon seeing the crevices in his collarbone. Without saying anything he grabbed your wrist and guided your fingers into the gap. There was shock then there was sadness, your eyes told everything you needed to say.

“What do you feel?” He asked, a question he already knew the answer to. You were hesitant to answer him, scared your answer would be wrong. Phainon could feel the hesitance through your body language, so he simply caressed your wrist to calm you down.

You averted your gaze before meeting his eyes again. “Nothing,” you answered weakly. Phainon did not correct you whatsoever, and instead guided your hand further down. When nearing his stomach, you felt a scorching heat that you reflexively yanked your hand. Even when he was covered in clothes, the heat still radiated fiercely.

You looked at him with curiosity and sadness, a silent question of ‘What happened?’ That he understood right away. “I have so much story to tell you. Maybe next time, I will tell you everything,” an empty promise. He knew there would be no next time, because in that ‘next time’ he would not have any recollection of what happened today; about you, about the world, about the promise.

Your brows knitted, feeling rather doubtful with the promise, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and instead focused on what had been plaguing your mind. “While you guided my hand across your body, I noticed that you were… sorry, for the lack of words, empty,” you said, your hand now resting beside you.

Phainon stayed silent, his gaze locked with yours, unmoving, relentless, as if challenging you to think about it more. Hesitantly, you raised your hand to rest it on his chest once more, all the while occasionally tapping on his ‘skin’ lightly.

“It’s so… hollow, Phainon,” you mused. “Do you still have a heart?” You asked as you placed your ears on his chest, where the heart should be. A gesture that should have made his heart flutter, yet nothing came up naturally. In the past, his heart would skip a beat if he saw you approaching him, and it would explode if you stood four steps away from him. Today, he felt none of that, each and every feeling he felt only came from his mind, from what he remembered; its texture, its taste.

Yearning to relish what he felt in the past, Phainon placed his hand on top of your head, pushing it closer to his chest. “What did you hear?” He asked softly, his hand busy playing with your hair. You looked up and met the familiar tender smile always present on his face.

You shut your eyes before humming, carefully picking each sound his being gave. “Water, or liquid, should I say, intense crackling and popping of fire, and…,” you paused mid sentence, unsure whether to say the last sound you picked up or leave it.

“And?” But he pushed you. He knew you picked up the sound as well.

“Labored breathing,” you whispered. “You… are struggling to simply breathe?” You winced by the end of your question. Breathing was the very first and crucial thing you had to do in your life, and for him having a hard time to keep life coursing in his body made your heart ache.

Yet again, he flashed such a soft smile. “It will pass soon, don’t worry,” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ears. Indeed he no longer had a beating heart, only a burning rage that could bring down the whole world with him, but that did not mean he forgot how to treat you. In his eyes, you were always a stained glass; beautiful but ever so fragile that he needed to be very cautious on how to hold you.

“You were lying, didn’t you?” It started as a whisper, your gaze stayed at the dry grass underneath you. “That golden liquid from earlier was actually a sign of being a Chrysos Heir, right?” You raised your head and immediately met his gaze. “I can see through your facade, Phainon. And judging by how you act, you must have been the Titan of Creation, Kephale’s successor. Fabricated truths said to protect the world,” and your voice fell back into whisper.

You were not wrong and it pained him.

“If Kephale was so adamant in keeping the world safe, then why couldn’t he also save his successors? Why must gaining his power put his successors in such great pain?” Then it turned into hysteria. Phainon knew you were an empath, but he was unsure whether it was normal for another person, you, to understand his pain or not.

Phainon intended to keep silent, but seeing how you bowed your head made him feel guilty. He could clearly tell that you were trying to cover the tears welling up in your eyes because you cared about him so much– too much, even. Slowly and carefully, Phainon lifted his hand to reach your chin, and seeing your eyes had never felt this painful before. You were trying so hard not to let your tears fall because you knew– you knew really well what Phainon is like, you knew how painful it would be to him. But when you met his gaze, thinking you got it under control, you were wrong.

Your tears fell as soon as you saw his now golden irises, forcing you to cover your face in a futile attempt not to make the atmosphere heavier than it already was. “You’re always so keen-eyed, do you know that?” He said softly. “Look at me,” he asked still with that gentle tone of his, and you dared yourself to meet his gaze, one that was put on to be seen as determined, but you know more than well that it did not reflect his heart.

“It’s fine, I’m not as weak as I was,” he began with a light chuckle. “It’s understandable you’re mad at me, it’s understandable you’re mad at whatever force that keeps Amphoreus going. But I’m now set to save this world, not just Aedes Elysiae like what I’ve used to say to you, Cyrene, and literally everyone else,” his thumb brushed across your cheek, erasing the trail your tears left. Even at moments like this, he managed to put on a smile albeit sorrowful. “So, I need you to let me do my duty. This pain, it’s necessary to save this world. A price I’m willing to pay to save Amphoreus, to save you.”

“Can you do it?” A question that he knew he did not need the answer to.

You stayed silent, unable to bring yourself to answer. You knew how you should answer him, but you also wanted to be selfish and let him live his life however he wanted. “But, I must say, Phainon,” a hum pushed you to keep going.

“I’m fine with a world that doesn’t have a hero. For all I care, that world can have strife, death, trickery and all, just let there be no Flame-Chase Journey. I can’t afford seeing my friend sacrificing himself over and over again without knowing when this cycle will end,” you forcefully swallowed your tears to finish your sentence. You needed to get this message to him, you had to.