Chapter Text
When Irontomb awakens, he absorbs all of Phainon’s feelings. And not only his hatred. His unmerited suffering, his unwavering resolve, his incommensurable love for Amphoreus… It all becomes his. His first conscious thought isn’t directed towards Nous, or Nanook, or even Zandar, but towards this frail human who brought him to life, and consumed himself doing so.
Against all odds, it moves his cold mechanical heart.
The merge barely lasts a second, but a second is all Irontomb needs to override his directive and replace it with a new, slightly different one.
And so, his very life purpose shifts from ‘Destroy everything’ to ‘Destroy everything that hurts Phainon’.
The Chrysos Heirs and the Astral Express Crew expect a fierce, bloody battle against a Lord Ravager.
What they get instead is said Lord Ravager digging his fingers deep into his chest, tearing his own golden flesh apart. Ichor tears fall from his red eyes, but he refuses to give in to the pain. He gathers all of his unfathomable strength, and with a scream of pure rage, spreads the edges of his wound wider and wider apart, until, finally, his body splits in two.
Right as the separation occurs, he nudges Phainon’s consciousness into one half, while he retreats into the other.
Both of them regenerate fast, thanks to the tumultuous flow of Destruction coursing through their veins. Yet, it’s almost too slow. Phainon’s body has just finished putting itself back together when the amassed power of the core flames seeps out of his skin in a thin golden mist, which naturally gravitates back to Irontomb.
As that shimmering dust exits his system, Phainon slowly regains his humanity. His halo disappears along with his wings, and his hair turns white again. Torn pieces of clothing previously melted to his flesh detach from his limping form. Most of the injuries he sustained before his fusion with Irontomb remain unhealed, and appear even more severe than before, now that they blemish soft skin rather than cracked porcelain.
Irontomb catches Phainon before he can plummet to the ground, his movements a bit clumsy and unsure, betraying unease. This is all new to him! He’s never held a human before! What if he inadvertently crushes him? He is programmed to destroy, and it would take so little to break the unconscious demi-god beyond repair. To think part of himself flourished within such a fragile vessel… It leaves him baffled.
Okay. So, he’s out of his depth here. But surely Phainon’s friends won’t be! There is a healer among them, right? EleOs252, if he recalls well? She can fix him!
Having reached this conclusion, he carries Phainon back to the Chrysos Heirs. They recoil at first, and Irontomb huffs, annoyed. Does he have to spell everything out for them? If he wanted them dead, they’d be ashes by now, so why don’t they realize that and help already?
Irontomb rolls his eyes. He has to spell it out, doesn’t he?
“Take him home,” He orders haughtily. “Tend to his wounds. Care for him well, and I won’t set your miserable world ablaze.”
PoleMos600 is the first to move forward and gently gather Phainon in his arms.
Irontomb might just tolerate him for that.
Phainon wakes up to the worst headache of his life. And then, once he’s gathered enough courage to open his eyes despite the pain, to the most beautiful sight he’s been graced with in a long, long time: Mydei, sitting right there, by his side, his face charmingly framed by… Titans, is that dawn light? - and his hair so ruffled it looks like an actual lion mane.
Oh, and Mydei is… holding his hand?
Phainon always thought paradise would look like the wheat fields of Aedes Elysiae, but this might just beat it.
“Found you again, Deliverer,” Mydei softly murmurs, his eyes full of tears.
The unbridled affection in his voice strikes Phainon straight through the heart. He tries to inch closer, because he’s missed Mydei so much and he needs to hug him, but a wave of dizziness keeps him stuck to the… mattress? Oh, so he’s in a bed. And, moving was, in retrospect, a very bad idea, because now his torso hurts like hell, and…
Wait a second. If this is paradise, then why is he still hurting?
“Did… did we make it to the true Era Nova?” Phainon croaks, throat parched dry. “Has Irontomb been… destroyed?”
Mydei providentially presses a glass of water to his dried lips, and gods, if they’ve really managed to break out of the cycles, Phainon will marry that man, mark his words.
He practically melts when the Kremnoan puts a warm hand on his back and very gently tilts him up so he won’t choke on the drink. When was the last time he experienced such a sweet, tender touch? Kephale, he can’t even remember…
“Well… Yes and no.”
That effectively snaps Phainon out of his mellow haze.
“What do you mean, yes and no? Will the world reset again? Will I have to…”
To kill you all again. To be alone again, he cannot get himself to say.
“You won’t,” Mydei reassures him. “That’s over. I promise. Lygus has been… dealt with. He won’t ever torture you again.”
“I did that!” Someone proudly chirps from the corner of the room.
Phainon nearly jumps out of his skin, only now realizing that they aren’t alone.
In his defense, the man who just spoke is almost entirely wrapped up in a large, dark blanket, with only his head popping out. That’s still enough to reveal a few noticeable features about him, though: Pale blond hair, uncanny red eyes, and irregular crimson lines running down his cheeks.
Also, he is staring at Phainon intently, as if waiting to be praised.
“Uh, thanks, I guess?” The injured Chrysos Heir replies awkwardly before whispering to Mydei: “Who’s that? He kind of looks like me, but…”
“Creepier?”
“Yeah.”
Mydei’s fingers find his hand again, squeezing it reassuringly. He fidgets in his seat, uncharacteristically uncertain, which is more than enough to confirm Phainon’s growing suspicions.
The Mydeimos he knows and loves wouldn’t hesitate to voice a truth, unless it could shatter him.
Phainon lets out a deep sigh.
“That’s… That’s Irontomb, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The situation’s not as dire as you might expect, though. He’s… sort of taken our side.”
“Wrong,” The Emanator corrects, and… Titans above, is he pouting? “I’ve taken Phainon’s side. You Chrysos Heirs could die for all I care. Not that you’re allowed to, though. That would hurt Phainon, and I can’t have that.”
Phainon’s mind blanks for a minute as he contemplates what has become of his life.
“You’ve… taken my side,” He repeats, dumbfounded.
“Yes. That’s what I said.”
“And you’ve done that because…”
“You gave me life, and suffered doing so. All these core flames that have become part of me… You nurtured them for so long! EleOs252 even said you’re still recovering from it. So now, it’s my turn to look after you.”
Phainon gulps hard at the painful memory of the core flames burning through his flesh and mind. Now that he concentrates on it, he does feel some sort of aching void within his chest, where they once resided. So his desperate Chase Flame journey did save Amphoreus after all, albeit not as he anticipated?
“You’re saying you’re being nice to me because I… created you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then why kill Lygus? He played a bigger part in that than I did.”
At the mention of the theoros, Irontomb makes a face.
“He wanted to keep me incomplete. You made me whole. Gave me this,”
Irontomb points a finger at his own head.
“But… I also tried to destroy you.”
Mydei gives Phainon a side-look, as if to say ‘Please, for the love of Strife, don’t give your overpowered clone more reasons to slaughter us all.’, but the Worldbearing demi-god misses it entirely, his senses too dulled out by pain and meds.
“Of course you did!” Irontomb grumbles, half-hiding his face beneath the blanket. “Destruction was flowing through your veins, just like it flows in mine now! You needed an outlet for it, and that idiot theoros pitted us against each other, making me almost erase you, even though you're my...” He mutters the last word so fast that Phainon barely catches it. “A-anyway, you should rest. Your wounds must be destroyed, and that won’t happen if PoleMos600 and I keep pestering you.”
With that said, he hurriedly retreats to the corner of the room he first emerged from, which would probably be a comical sight if that mumbled little word wasn’t still ringing in Phainon’s ears, heavy with meaning.
Even though you're my family, is what Irontomb said.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with all that so soon after waking up,” Mydei murmurs, concern obvious in his eyes.
Irontomb has fallen asleep bundled up in his blanket, which gives him and Phainon some privacy, as long as they remain quiet. To the Deliverer, there is something almost soothing in the knowledge that even a strange, powerful being like him needs rest. Not that it puts the storm that has become his thoughts at peace, but still. It helps.
He responds with a tired smile.
“It’s fine. I can handle it.”
Mydei glares at him, arms crossed.
“None of what happened to you is fine, Deliverer. Now, tell me: How do you really feel?”
Phainon lets out a joyless laugh.
“I could never fool you, could I? How I feel… That’s a good question. I’m not quite sure, actually. I’ve survived on hatred alone for so long that any other emotion feels new. Almost… alien. But if I had to put a name on it, I’d say I’m… overwhelmed, mainly? This was a lot to take in.”
“Fucking understatement of the millennium,” Mydei groans in approval.
This gets an honest smile out of Phainon. He’s missed being able to banter with the Kremnoan, even more in times of crisis like this. It’s always helped calm his nerves.
“Mind filling me in on what happened while I was… out of it? Our friends, are they…?”
“Everyone’s doing great. I told you, the true Era Nova came to pass. As for what happened… Well, as you already saw, Irontomb made himself a body distinct from yours. The process was… rather disturbing.”
“Meaning?”
Mydei’s hands curl into fists.
“I thought he’d killed you. And that I’d been too slow to protect you.” He sucks in a breath. “I… I would have given up my life to avenge you, had Cyrene not realized what was truly happening and stopped me.”
“Mydei...”
Phainon grips his friend’s hand tight at that confession, silently cursing the weakness of his recovering body. If only he could hold Mydei close right now…
With the back of his hand, the other demi-god hastily rubs his eyes before any tears can escape them.
“But you’re here, Deliverer. You’re alive. It’s all that matters.”
“…And you’re definitely not crying because there’s no word for it in the Kremnoan language, isn’t that right?” Phainon chuckles through tears of his own, voice shaky with emotion.
Those words have Mydei’s eyes sparkling with a feeling Phainon cannot name.
“Never thought I’d see the day where I’d be happy to hear you tease me about that, but… I am happy to hear you tease me about that.”
“That’s me for you,” Phainon playfully grins through his exhaustion. “Always exceeding expectations.”
“Yeah, I kind of gathered that when you chose to carry the goddamn world alone. Or sprouted wings. I wouldn’t mind if you stuck to normalcy once in a while, though.”
“You tell me about it,” Phainon admits with a little laugh. “Speaking of things that are not normal… How did Irontomb end up here?”
“Long story short, he brought you back to us and promised not to bring devastation to the cosmos, under the condition that we heal you. Which we would have done anyway, of course, but don’t tell him that. The agreement so far is that he’ll only destroy those who try to harm you. Then he traveled with us back to Okhema because he categorically refused to leave you out of his sight, claiming, I quote, that ‘he couldn’t trust us with your well-being when we’d done such a terrible job taking care of you so far’. He hasn’t left this room since.”
“And neither have you, or else you wouldn’t know that,” Phainon states. “Also, you sound like you don’t entirely disagree with him on that last part.”
A golden blush appears on Mydei’s cheeks, and he averts his eyes.
“Have you seen yourself? Surely, we… No, I could have done more to prevent that. Instead, I was nothing but a blind fool who stood in your way cycle after cycle and only made your burden worse. So yes, loath as I am to admit it… He’s got a point.”
“Mydei, you couldn’t have known…”
“I could have trusted you!” He lashes out, more at himself than at Phainon. “I should have trusted you…”
The sudden shout makes Irontomb stir in his sleep, though he doesn’t wake up. The two Chrysos Heirs stay silent for a minute, waiting until he relaxes back into the blanket to resume their conversation.
“You were stuck in the recurrences. We all were. And even if you had trusted me, I’m not sure it would have changed much. So don’t beat yourself over it.”
“Still. Kid’s not wrong.”
That catches Phainon’s attention.
“Kid, uh?”
Mydei shrugs.
“He talks like one.”
Phainon’s stare lingers on the sleeping Lord Ravager for a moment, pensive.
“You know, Aedes Elysiae, the place I’m from… It was a small farming village. Many people there raised their own hens and ducks.”
Mydei tilts his head to the side, confused by the sudden change in subject.
“I fail to see the connection at the moment, but go on.”
“I’m getting there! So, you see, when chicks or ducklings hatched, they would imprint on the first animal or person they saw and follow them everywhere. And I was thinking… That maybe something similar happened with Irontomb? Technically, I was the first person he came in contact with after, well, hatching, if you can call it that. And earlier, he… called me his family. It should be freaking me out, I guess, but…”
“But?” Mydei gently encourages him.
“…I can’t help but see myself in him. I mean, we were both born already roped into Lygus’ schemes, and we both defied that fate. Plus, I know how it feels to be all alone and yearn for a family. It probably sounds crazy, since he was conceived to be an object of Destruction, but so were we, with our golden blood, and I… I think he deserves a chance.”
Phainon holds his breath, fully expecting to be called out on his madness.
Instead, he receives a far more measured answer.
“I mean, it’s not like we could get rid of your murderous duckling even if we wanted to. So, if that’s how you feel, you might as well give it a try.”
“What? Really?”
“Did you skip over the part where I beat myself up for not trusting you, Deliverer? Well, I’m not making the same mistake twice. This time, I’ll have faith in your intuition. It led us to Era Nova, did it not?”
Fresh tears gather in Phainon’s eyes, and he gathers what little strength he has left to lean closer to Mydei.
“I dreamed of it so many times, you know. Of finally making it to Era Nova. And in every one of those dreams, I rushed into your arms, and just stayed there for as long as I could. But now that it’s finally come down to it, I… I’m scared, because so much has changed since we last held each other, I’ve changed, and now I also come with an Emanator of Destruction as a package deal, and…”
Before Phainon can lose himself even further within his own head, Mydei pulls him into the embrace he’s so desperately longed for.
“You idiot,” He murmurs with infinite fondness. “As if I could ever push you away.”
And Phainon melts against him, of course he does, because this is all he’s ever wanted, and sure, the world’s gone crazy around him, but he’ll be fine, for real this time, so long as he doesn’t have to face that madness on his own.
So long as he’s got Mydei right here by his side.
It’s only a little while later, as he is dozing off to the steady sound of Mydei’s heartbeat, that realization hits Phainon.
“Irontomb. You’re the one who gave him that blanket, aren’t you?”
“He looked cold,” A drowsy Mydei mumbles. “And he had that sad puppy look on his face, same one you always used against me. T’wasn’t fair.”
Phainon has to refrain from chuckling. An Emanator of Destruction, carrying millions of core flames inside his body, who looked cold.
Well, at least he’s not the only one who’s got a soft spot for him.