#phaidei angst

“You don’t look so good, deliverer,” Mydei mutters in a low voice, his arms crossed over his chest-- back facing the familiar yet unrecognizable man stepping towards him. The white haired man merely chuckles under his breath, a faux display of composure, the back of his throat threatening to close up as he inches closer to the Demi-God of Strife.

“How many cycles have we met under similar circumstances?”

“Over 100,000,” Phainon, or rather, Khaslana replies. His voice a ruin of what it once was, scratchy and wavering-- rather than the usual joyful tone the two men once knew.

Mydei barks out a laugh laced with pain and condensation, head craning to meet the gaze of one who is falling towards destruction, “Hundreds of thousands of cycles, but there’s still tenderness in your eyes…how pathetic.”

Khaslana’s eyes narrow briefly, his breath catching in his throat, before he looks back over to the Kremnoan. 

“I...simply do not wish for the destruction to take over my entire being,” he replies callously, yet his voice betrays him, trembling under the gaze of Strife. 

The Demi-God tilts his head downward, attempting to stifle a chuckle before his entire body pivots to face the deliverer. His deliverer. 

“I have to remember how this feels, remember how I was once human,” Khaslana continues, before Mydei simply grunts in response, interrupting the melodramatic moment with his booming voice.

“If you win, tell the Mydeimos of the next life: this person is a worthy opponent, so always remember to give it your all and never slack off.”

Silence, but only for a moment, before Khaslana’s voice speaks out in a softer-- weaker tone.

“I’ll keep that in mind, as always.”

Strife hesitates, glancing off to the side before his eyes return to meet those gorgeous pools of blue he once loved…once? No, no matter what cycle he is in, he knows each and every single time, he will fall in love with his deliverer. He may not have memories of his previous cycles, but he stays quiet, his silence speaking to Khaslana -- his Phainon, who’s lips twitch up in a subtle motion.

“...There is no way you’ll take this Coreflame in peace.”

“I…understand.”

“Step forward, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, and face me in a final battle.”

Khaslana’s world suddenly shifts as he’s placed back into this scene, over and over again, loop after loop…and endless cycle. He steps forward, slowly but surely, as he recounts memories of each moment he’s had to experience this exact frame in time against Mydeimos. Against Mydei. Against his…

He exhales slowly, drawing his blade, his ears ringing as Strife speaks out to him. He may not be able to hear what is being said, but he recognizes it, he’s memorized each loop by now so that Mydei’s words should no longer phase him. However, time and time again…the lion’s words make him stutter in his step.

…

“Well fought…you may crown yourself…in my blood.”

…

“In your next life…I shall once again block your path…”

…

“Deliverer…I wish you…eternal victory”

…

Silence makes itself known in Khaslana’s mind as he stares down at the disappearing body of Mydeimos,

“Thank you, Mydei…all your sacrifices should not go in vain…” He breathes out in a mere whisper, his eyes glazing over as the man in his arms chuffs out a weak laugh.

“You sound…so pathetic…Khaslana.”

“That is what you have rendered me down to…in each and every cycle.”

“...perhaps…in a future cycle…you and I…” Mydei’s voice trails off as he gasps softly, slowly succumbing to his wounds.

“Perhaps. I will…fight for us, for our future, so we can then spar once again…that, I promise you,” He whispers, his cold lips grazing over the forehead of his fallen lover, before pressing against Mydei’s lips before he could completely disappear. His body shimmering away in the golden flames of Nanook, while Khaslana, for the 108,642nd time, witnesses his own failure of shouldering the world. Of keeping the one individual he promised his soul to, alive. 

If just for one cycle, he wishes, could Mydeimos survive? Or are they destined to be apart for all of eternity, never being able to exchange a proper “I love you."