Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Why did you lock your heart away when you're holding mine?

Perhaps, your love is selfish, but mine is too.

It all started with a little mistake. A tab open with a pdf document open and another with a new email from an unknown business man requesting for a meeting. The blonde man left it open as he went out for lunch, his boyfriend arrived at his office during his break planning to surprise him.

When he returned his boyfriend was sitting on his desk with an apologetic smile that didn't reach his eyes. Behind him his computer had collapsed and all the files had been gone.

“Phainon your apologies won't make up for this! There were months of work there, now they're gone! What the hell were you even trying to do!?” He exploded as the white haired man just looked at him with big puppy eyes as if he didn't grasp the dimension of the damage of what he had done.

“Mydeimos, I was just trying to—”

“To?”

“To download a video I made of us and set it up as wallpaper, I didn't expect the link would be full of viruses…” He said in a small voice, it sounded hollow but Mydei paid no mind to it as he raked his brain for possible solutions.

Just Phainon could have had such an stupid idea… He was so bad with electronics that he couldn't even get completely mad at him, given how many times the man had asked Mydei for advice on how to do basic stuff with social media.

“Perhaps you have a backup in the cloud?” Phainon asked, suddenly walking confidently to the device and skillfully moving across it. 

It didn't make sense for the blue-eyed man to act like that, but at that moment it didn't matter. He just wanted a solution fast.

“Oh!” Phainon exclaimed pointing out to the computer screen. “It seems that the virus just attacked your browser, and just hid the files. Let me move them back—”

“Enough. Stop blaming viruses for your mistakes, let me see.” Mydei pushed Phainon off his chair and quickly scanned through the computer. It seemed that his boyfriend was right, his browser was reset to default, all his saved passwords and markers were gone, but it wasn't that bad. On his download folder there was the video that Phainon talked about. Then he nonchalantly deleted it,  the white-haired man whined next to him at his actions. “I'm not risking ruining my computer for real.”

At this, Phainon just hung his head low, not meeting his eyes, he stood up and walked towards his office door.“I know… I'm sorry Mydeimos, I know how important your work is for you. I'll take my leave.”

Strange…

“See you tonight.” Phainon just nodded as answer, apparently too ashamed of what he did.

At night, the incident of the afternoon was completely forgotten. They clung to each other as if the night could stretch itself into eternity, as if hands and lips could hold off the inevitability of tomorrow’s departure— Phainon’s job always had him going from one place to another—.By the time dawn crept into the room, their bed had been pushed half a meter off its mark, the carpet scattered with clothes neither of them cared to pick up.

Mydei woke up early as usual rolling to his side, he half expected to have to wake up Phainon before he misses his flight, instead Phainon was wide awake eyes glued at the screen of his phone

Mydei’s phone.

“Phainon what are you looking at? Let me see.” Mydei lazily dragged his head on top of the white-haired man’s shoulder as he was laying on his back. He saw how he quickly switched apps. He chuckled, guessing Phainon was checking if he had some secret lover before he traveled. “There’s no need to check on my chats, there’s no one else.”

Phainon blinked in confusion, before laughing it off and shaking his head. “I know, you will never find someone as handsome as me.” He placed a kiss on top of his head before giving his phone back. “I left a little gift there.”

“HKS.” He chastised as he saw his gallery now full from pictures of their ‘nightly activities’. His face burned red as he saw the obscenity of them all. He opened his chat with Phainon just to see it empty. So, he was getting rid of the evidence before he woke up, this man was truly a menace. “There was no need for this, Phainon.”

“Mydei how am I supposed to resist teasing you.” He turned around in the bed placing a leg between the blonde’s legs. “If it makes you act like this.” Phainon then placed his hands on Mydei’s hips slowly dragging his hands lower. “See?”

Mydei’s face burned red with shame yet he made no move to push Phainon’s ministrations off him nor to delete those forsaken photos from his gallery. “I’ll take my revenge.” Mydei settled with saying, his body already complying to whatever of Phainon’s whims.

“Oh… Is that so?” He let out a hot breath against his neck making him squirm in his hold. “I can’t wait to see you try.”

“It’s a promise.” Mydei murmured back before they continued where they left things the night before.

True to his promise, he took his revenge by sending a lot of spicy photos to Phainon when he knew the other couldn’t do anything but watch them. He really thought his boyfriend was just a silly model that knew almost nothing about technology. They agreed on having no passwords on their things on their relationship, and it worked fine for them until it didn’t.

While Phainon was abroad he accidentally broke his phone, taking it to a technician proved to be a waste of time as the price of fixing it was greater than just buying a new one. And Mydei just did so—buy a new one—, moving all his accounts there he began to receive an almost daily email from an anonymous enterprise that was developing a project called “Irontomb”.

At first he paid no mind to it as it seemed to be spam. Then he began to entertain the idea of getting in touch with the remittent of those messages. Why? He was in charge of the business department of Castrum Kremnos Weapon Industries… Even if he doesn't like it at all, he doesn't have the heart to leave his parents' businesses. Mydei knows that they wouldn't resent him if he leaves the company but his old man was beginning to get too old and senile that it felt unfair of him as son, to leave his mother to handle everything on her own as his father tried to do his best but failed miserably at every attempt.

As he began to reconsider it, Phainon came back from his trip and he commented on this topic casually to the white-haired man who just nodded along occasionally giving an insight of the matter. He commented that the insistence from that project wasn't normal or to be trusted, because it would only mean that the other was desperate to sell the idea.

“You're quite sharp on businesses.” Mydei commented as Phainon had just explained the cons of accepting that proposal. Not a positive point made. “Nevertheless, risks are needed to secure a deal.”

Phainon leaned back in his chair, raising a brow, lips twitching into a sly smile. “Of course I am.” he chuckled, his eyes turned a little darker and sharp. “That's how I stayed in this business for this long. However, risks, yes. But walking into a straightforward scam because it sounds promising?” His voice was smooth, almost amused. “That’s not business, Mydei. That’s suicide.”

Mydei blinked, taken aback. He’d expected a smug remark, maybe a jab about being naïve — not that. His lips parted, but no reply came.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Phainon added, tone lighter now, though his eyes still glinted. “I’m only saying you have a talent for mistaking knives for handshakes. Charming, really.”

Mydei frowned faintly, unsure if he should laugh or bristle. The weight in Phainon’s words lingered, turning the sarcasm into something sharper than he could shrug off.

Coincidentally after Phainon's return the e-mails stopped all-together. Later he began to receive phone calls from an unknown number… At first he ignored them as they could be likely promotions from his operator line, but when the same number kept popping up he decided to answer.

It was the man behind the “Irontomb” project. As soon as Mydeimos gave him the opportunity to explain the project he took it and even managed to convince him to meet and do a reunion to explain further details. To be fair, Mydeimos wasn't exactly thrilled by the offer because the desperation from the man —he was called Lygus if he recalls correctly— could be felt across the line, nonetheless what he offered was too promising to be dismissed entirely.

He agreed to the reunion.

Days later Phainon came bursting to his office demanding answers of who was the man who kept calling him. His breath was uneven, and his usual friendly demeanor was completely gone. There was just rage and nervousness in his behavior.

Jealousy, perhaps…

Mydei just blinked, tilting his head to the side as he always did when something didn't make any sense to him. “A business partner.”

Phainon did not take his answer well as he just closed the door with a slam and walked closer to him, ignoring the desk between them he leaned closer. “What's his name?”

“I said he's a business partner.” He repeated more firmly this time, he didn't want a scene in his office. 

Phainon’s hands curled against the desk, knuckles whitening. He wasn’t yelling—yet—but the pressure in his voice was enough to make the air heavy. “Yeah, and I'm asking for his name.” 

For a moment Mydei just studied him, more confused than anything else. His lips curved in the faintest smile, one that wasn’t unkind but carried his usual sharpness. “What’s this? An interrogation? Do I need to remind you that this is classified information for the company?”

Phainon’s jaw worked as if he were chewing down words he wasn’t ready to spit out. His breath was sharp, ragged, too close. The wood of the desk creaked under his palm as if he might snap it in two just to release some of the pressure boiling in him.

Mydei blinked again, slow, almost patient—almost. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing a fraction. “You’re acting like I’m hiding an affair.”

Phainon’s white hair was slightly disheveled, his usual calm veneer cracking. “You’ve been getting calls from him for weeks,” he said, voice tight. “And you didn’t think to mention it?”

Mydei tilted his head, a faint smirk teasing his lips. “Phai… are you jealous? Worried I’ll get distracted by some desperate stranger?”

“Distracted?” Phainon snapped, stepping closer, fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out and grab the truth from him. “Don’t joke about that. This isn’t funny!”

“Isn’t it?” Mydei countered, leaning back, arms crossed. “You’re glaring at me like I just committed a crime. It’s just business. Are you… doubting me? Afraid I can’t handle a business?”

Phainon doubting his capacity for a task was something new, he didn't know how to take that information. Mydei could feel his judgement getting clouded by hurt and frustration.

“That's not what I meant!” Phainon argued back quickly, “It's just that his behavior doesn't sit well with me.”

Mydei arched an eyebrow at that. 

“And you thought that barging in my office was the best thing you could do, really? Because last time I checked I didn't need your approval for doing my job.”

He took a step back and Mydei decided to stand up from his desk and walk towards Phainon to confront him. The white haired man stood his ground not moving an inch from where he stood. They glared at each other, knowing that if they didn't stop right then the argument was going to escalate to something too personal.

Nevertheless, Phainon decided against their peace and opened his mouth again.

“How can I stay idle when you're walking straight to ruining your life and your parents' industry?” His frown just deepened at those words, he was walking straight to a personal attack. “Or is that you simply hate it so much that you don't care about your paren–”

Slap.

“Get my parents out of your mouth.” Mydei spat with fury, while Phainon grabbed his cheek that was burning red from the slap. “I entertained enough of your model low self-esteem nonsense and your insecurities based on your own actions.”

Phainon eyes widened at those words. “What the fuck did you just said!?” He snapped finally.

“That you have low self-esteem? I will repeat that as man—” Phainon abruptly interrupted him grabbing his jaw in a bruising grip. “Let go.”

“You know I didn't mean that Mydeimos, don't you dare to play fool with me. As you said you’re not dumb.” He let go of his face, finally taking a step back. “However, I guess I'm not the only insecure one in this relationship.”

“You can just accuse someone else of cheating so easily, because you had done it in the past. Am I mistaken?” Mydei rubbed his jaw forcing it to snap in place after being forcefully grabbed by his boyfriend.

Phainon eyed him coldly, completely unlike himself “Yes, you are.”

“I am not. That pink haired girl that follows you everywhere, if I recall correctly Cyrene was her name.” Phainon looked at him as if he suggested something gross. “I noticed how he looks at you and how you look at her. You two look at each other as if the other would just suddenly disappear.”

A dark chuckle and a tired expression settled on Phainon's face, he murmured something he couldn't hear.

“Is that how we look in your eyes? Like lovers?” He chuckled once again. “Unlike you I don't have a problem explaining who she is. She's almost like my older sister and the reason why I'm still alive when I just wanted it all to end.”

Phainon’s words hung heavy in the room, his laugh colder than ice. “Now. Happy?”

Mydei’s lips parted, but no words came. For the first time that afternoon, he wasn’t sure if he was angry or… something else. The sharpness in Phainon’s voice, the way his shoulders trembled with restraint—it wasn’t just rage. It was fear.

He stepped closer again, softer this time, testing the ground between them. “Phai…” his voice was quieter, stripped of the sharp edge to it. His eyes searched the other man’s face. “Tell me something. If she’s so important, if she’s family to you… what am I?”

The question came out sharper than he intended, but too honest to take back.

Phainon froze. His mouth opened, then closed again, the answer on the tip of his tongue—raw, dangerous, too true. His eyes softened, just a fraction, as if the weight of everything he carried was about to spill free.

“Mydei, you’re—”

A hand rapped lightly on the doorframe. A man in his fifties dressed in a gray suit, leaned in, lips curled into an almost mocking grin. “I believe we had a scheduled meeting half an hour ago,” he said, in a playful tone—clearly exaggerating, as he saw the secretary bowing and uttering apologies—. His eyes flicked between them, assessing the taut tension in the air. “Am I interrupting something?”

The fragile spell shattered. Mydei’s shoulders stiffened, his jaw working as he turned toward Lygus. Phainon took a deliberate step back, masking his storm with a cold, careful expression.

Neither answered Lygus right away. The moment—the raw honesty of it—slipped through their fingers, replaced by the easy mask of diplomacy.

Then Lygus’ gaze settled on Phainon, and something in those brilliant blue eyes shifted. His smile didn’t falter, his tone didn’t change, but his body spoke a different language altogether. Mydei saw it in the stiffness of his shoulders, in the way his fingers curled his sides—Phainon wasn’t just angry. He was afraid.

“Shouldn't you be smiling more? You're a model after all.” Lygus commented off-handedly, his tone was casual but there was a hidden threat that didn't go amiss for Mydei who tilted his head watching the exchange.

Phainon against all his usual bravado gave him a tight and forced smile. “That 's right.” His laugh was empty. “I’ll leave you to discuss freely.”

The white haired man was all but about to jolt out from his office, but Lygus grabbed him by the wrist making him stop.

The change was immediate.

“Don’t touch me.” Phainon’s voice broke, jagged with panic and fury, nothing like the man Mydei thought he knew.

Lygus giggled, a playful sound at odds with the tension. He released him as though it had all been a joke. “Send my regards to Cyrene. I’ll pay her a visit soon.”

The name snapped something inside Phainon. His fist connected with Lygus’ face before Mydei could blink, sending the man sprawling across the floor.

Then Phainon was on him. Punch after punch, raw and wild, blood splattering across the polished floor. Mydei’s shock froze him a beat too long before he rushed forward, trying to pry him away. But Phainon fought like a man possessed, unmovable, desperate.

“Mydei, stop him!” someone shouted outside. Mydei’s voice was hoarse from yelling, but Phainon didn’t hear him. Didn’t see him.

Security stormed in. Electricity crackled. Mydei’s heart lurched as Phainon convulsed under the shock, his body going slack, yet even half-limp he still tried to crawl back toward Lygus.

“D–don’t you… dare t-touch… M-Mydei,” Phainon slurred, tears streaming down his face as guards dragged him away. His voice cracked with something rawer than rage, something closer to terror. “Dei… d-don’t trust him. Please.”

The sound of his begging followed them down the corridor until silence swallowed the hall.

Mydei stood frozen, chest heaving, the world tilted sideways. He’d never seen Phainon like that. Never seen him cry. Never seen him break. 

It was too much to bear, too much.

He turned automatically, offering Lygus a handkerchief, trying to anchor himself in some shred of composure. Lygus dabbed the blood from his nose, chuckling under his breath as though he hadn’t just been pummeled. 

“Still a crybaby I see.” He muttered under his breath thinking Mydei wouldn't hear him.

Mydei’s head snapped toward him, golden eyes turned sharp as he analyzed the man attentively. The man seemed inoffensive, just with an odd sense of humor. Nevertheless, it was clear as day that Phainon and him knew each other.

“I will take this as you don't get along.” 

Lygus shook his head, sighing as a tired parent would. “He had always had greater potential, so naturally I tried to nurture that.” Mydei was completely lost, what was this man even about? “Yet, he decided to turn his back on those opportunities and settle on selling his looks.” He chuckled. “I don’t hold it against him. Shall we begin our meeting?”

Mydei swallowed against the dizziness coiling in his chest. His heart still beat in Phainon’s frantic pleas, echoing in his ears. “No,” he said at last, voice low but firm. “Not today. We’ll reschedule.” Lygus nodded just curtly as if asking him to elaborate. “After all this—” he cleared his throat. “events. I don't think I'm in the right headspace to host a meeting. I apologize for all the inconveniences caused, we can compensate you for this.”

Lygus nodded, departing with a swollen face and an unbothered smile; leaving the details for a next meeting to be set. 

Mydei was feeling dizzy lately and this whole incident just made him feel worse. His head spun, a dull ache blooming behind his eyes, as if the events of the day had knocked something loose inside him. Every movement felt sluggish, every thought heavy. Seeing Phainon like that—convulsed, terrified, pleading with him not to trust Lygus—had carved a hollow ache deep into his chest, one that wouldn’t go away. He should have stopped it sooner. He should have protected him better.

That night, he had planned to talk—to untangle the anger, the fear, the mess of emotions still clinging to them—but the apartment was silent, too quiet. Phainon didn’t come home. The bed they usually shared felt impossibly vast, the empty side a cold reminder that the white-haired man had vanished into the night, leaving only the echo of what had happened. Mydei’s hands lingered on the sheets, fingers tracing invisible lines where Phainon had fallen asleep just hours before, trying and failing to make sense of the raw desperation he’d seen.

By morning, the emptiness had morphed into a gnawing anxiety. Then came the calls. First, from the modeling agency—tense, concerned, demanding to know Phainon’s whereabouts. Then, later, from the local police, asking questions that felt simultaneously procedural and accusatory. Each question, each carefully chosen word, sent a fresh spike of panic through Mydei.

“Where did you last see him? Did anyone have a reason to be angry with him? Is there anyone who might want to hurt him?”

The interrogations scratched at his mind, forcing him to replay the scene over and over—the argument, the slap, the pleading, Phainon’s body straining under the security shocks. And each time, Mydei felt the same, sickening pang of guilt. 

As he stepped into his office and police began to interrogate everyone who had last seen Phainon and the events of yesterday a queasy wave rolled through his stomach, sharp and insistent, as if his body was echoing the turmoil in his mind. He brushed it off, blaming the stress, but when his head spun slightly as he stood up to pace, when the sudden exhaustion pinched at his limbs, he felt the edge of something more. 

Yet in the haze of panic and dread, he barely noticed the way he couldn't even eat properly for the following days, his stomach just lurched each time he tried to swallow anything and his mouth was in a perpetual state of dryness and simultaneously drooling that was unbearable. It got to the point that even his own employees suggested he got a break. Mydei begrudgingly accepted knowing that if he couldn't function like a human being, he wouldn't be able to work properly either.

He sank onto the couch, face buried in his hands. The apartment felt smaller somehow, oppressive, as if it were closing in around him with every unanswered call, every unfamiliar knock at the door. He should have done something—anything—to protect Phainon. Yet now, with Phainon gone, he was left with only the echo of his fear, the residue of anger, and the terrible, gnawing certainty that he had failed.

Even when the sun climbed high into the sky, casting its indifferent light over the apartment, Mydei couldn’t shake the darkness that had settled over him. Each passing hour without news of Phainon felt like a reminder that this was his doing—that his decisions, his inability to anticipate, his momentary lapses had pushed the man he loved into danger. And the question that haunted him above all else was merciless in its simplicity: What have I done?

Noticing his situation many of his friends decided to drop by and try to ease him. They brought his favorite foods but upon noticing he couldn't stomach anything, they just settled for giving him hydrating drinks, pomegranate flavored… Like he was a sick child. Normally he would complain about being treated like that, but now he just wanted a little bit of comfort.

“Mydei you should try to calm down, you'll land yourself in the hospital if you keep going like this.” Hyacine commented upon watching him excuse himself to the bathroom to return the little liquid he had just drank. “I can prescribe you some calming pills if you want or you can come for a check up in my clinic.”

Upon his return, Mydei sat on the couch panting as if had run a mile, closing his eyes as dizziness returned because he moved too fast. “Don’t worry, it's fine. Moreover, I should thank you all for coming to visit when I know you're busy. Also, I thought Cipher was telling us that you guys have a problem in your system, are you sure it is fine that you're all here?”

He looked at all his three friends that together worked on Okhema Web Service company, they just looked at each other shaking their heads.

Aglaea looked at him with a mixture of concern and endearment. “Mydeimos, it's not like we can do anything at the moment. The huge amount of our client data was wiped by a skilled hacker and to this day we can't restore it.”

“Yeah, it's very similar to what happened to your comp—” 

Castorice placed a hand on top of Cipher's mouth, only then Mydei realized that many people had been keeping him in the dark because of his situation. Nevertheless he couldn't stay calm now, something happened with his own company and he can't let this pass.

“Cas, let her talk. You won't help me by keeping me oblivious to what happened.” 

Castorice looked at him with concern. “Mydei, you should be aware that there's nothing you can possibly do to fix the problem, that was the reason why you weren't informed in the first place.”

“I appreciate the concern, alas I need to know what happened during my absence.” He tried to sit upright on the couch just to feel his stomach burn forcing him to return to his not so proper posture—being sprawled like a cat there.

“I'll tell you.” Cipher offered and began speaking without waiting for a confirmation. “After two days you left your company, your secretary called us for help because she thought the clients files weren't showing up because of a problem with the red. Once I arrived, there wasn't a problem within the red, there was a broken firewall and the files couldn't be restored. The poor girl had to begin to create the data bank manually.” She cooed and commented on how awful that kind of work was and how she had to do that too in their company after what happened.

Aglaea decided then to continue where Cipher left it. “At first we thought it was an internal virus or a corrupted file from your company. But now… We suspect those were attacks from the same hacker, they should be targeting someone in particular but to erase their evidence they delete huge amounts of data so we cannot exactly pinpoint who it is.”

“How are you so sure that it was a hacker?” Mydei found himself asking.

“Because Aglaea's firewall is incredibly tough, so it had to be someone super skilled.” Cipher answered flatly. “We're still waiting for Lady Tribbios to restore the security camera files, that is if she can.”

“We can't do anything about it but to wait, so we figured we could wait for news together.” Castorice added, placing her phone on the coffee table, her eyes widened as they landed on his face. “Mydeimos, your face is green!”

He excused himself again to the bathroom, just being able to puke bile this time. His throat burned and he wasn't sure why he felt so weak. He dragged his body back to the living room, Hyacine was on his side in an instant and helped him to sit before disappearing to the kitchen to fetch some tea and whatever medicine that could help him.

“Mydeimos, you should take Hyacine’s offer for a check up.” Aglaea stood up and sat next to him, touching his forehead gently. “You don't have a fever at least, but you're so cold…”

“‘m fine.” The blonde murmured, feeling his limbs get heavier by the instant, but he couldn't let himself be more of a burden for his friends.

“What did I tell you, Cipher?!” He could hear Castorice whisper-yell to the platinum haired woman. “Do not stress him further.”

“He asked!” Cipher whispered in offence. He tried to laugh at the scene but he couldn't. 

“No news from Phainon yet?” He found himself asking deliriously after a while.

Hyacine had returned with a chamomile tea and some pain meds for him to take. Nothing too strong, just to calm him. Mydei forced himself to finish the tea to take the meds, feeling a little bit better after a moment. At least the uneasiness on his stomach had settled and he could move a little without feeling so heavy.

Aglaea rubbed his back before speaking. “Police said that he's officially missing. That girl Cyrene had requested for police assistance because she had received an unknown call that put her on her nerves. They investigated that man Lygus but officially there was no relationship between him and Phainon's disappearance.” She sighed. “Police requested our help to check on the calls made before Phainon's disappearance but that was lost upon that hacker attack.”

“I see.” His voice was tired, everyone looked at him with concern. 

Everyone was worried about Phainon, but Mydei seemed to be dealing with the worst of it. It was clear as day that his health was declining each day and he was in dire need of a check up. 

Cipher’s phone suddenly interrupted the silence with an incessant string of notifications. Lady Tribbios had managed to restore the recording and was demanding them to check it, that was how they ended up connecting Cipher's phone to the living room TV so they could see the details of the video.

In fact there was a man that walked into the office confidently, all his features were covered with a black hoodie and a dark cloak, his hands were covered by black gloves and his face completely hidden from view. By no means that man was an amateur, he had already foresaw the possibility of the camera records being restored so he had covered his identity completely.

Everyone was glued to the screen, dissecting the hooded man’s every movement, but Mydei couldn’t hear them anymore. The sound in the room dulled, muffled like he was underwater. His golden eyes locked on the figure. He knew that stance, the precise tilt of the head, the way the shoulders moved with ease.

It wasn’t just recognition—it was betrayal.

His stomach lurched violently, bile rising up again, though there was nothing left to bring up. The burning in his throat, the cold sweat on his skin, the dizzy spin in his head—it all crashed together until he could barely sit upright.

He wanted to scream at the screen, at himself, at Phainon. He wanted to demand an explanation. Instead his lips parted soundlessly, his body refusing him.

“That’s the Flame Reaver,” Cipher hissed at the TV, her words slicing through the room. “Whoever caught his attention is screwed.”

Phainon .

The thought hit him like a knife. And with it, another, darker realization that clawed through his chest—one he couldn’t dare voice aloud, not now, not in front of them. The suspicion he had ignored for days, the exhaustion, the nausea… pregnant . His body was no longer only his.

He tried to breathe, tried to form the words, but the room was tilting, his vision narrowing to a tunnel. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out his friends’ voices. The world slipped from him like water through his fingers.

His body collapsed to the floor.

“Mydei!” Hyacine’s voice cracked, raw with panic, as hands scrambled to lift him. Somewhere Castorice was yelling for water, for a pulse. Cipher was shaking him, too hard, begging for him to open his eyes.

But he was gone to them, slipping deeper, swallowed by darkness. The last thing he felt before the void claimed him was a hollow ache in his chest splitting wider, dragging everything with it.

Down, down, into a silence that promised no return.

Chapter Text

I can cut myself off with a smile, put distance between us,

And still be able to smile. I'll be able to smile, but...

When Mydei opened his eyes he was greeted by a sickening white light in the ceiling that seemed not to help at all, he felt disoriented and his limbs heavy, he tried to move just to realize he had an IV drip attached to his hand and a heart monitor connected to his torso and neck.

The pungent smell of chlorine and disinfectant was making his stomach churn in discomfort, there was nothing he could do but dry heave as his stomach was completely empty.

“Mydei… “ He heard Hyacine’s voice come closer. “Thank God you're awake. You really scared us there.”

“What happened?” He rasped, his throat felt dry and patchy.

“Your blood pressure dropped, you were starving and—” She sighed, biting her lip as if she was hesitant to tell him the truth. “I have news for you.”

Mydei already guessed what they were but nodded intently at her explanation.

“You’re pregnant, congratulations… I guess.” She combed her pink bangs back in a nervous gesture, her tone softer but strained. “But there’s a problem… You have a low placenta. Don’t panic—it’s actually pretty common this early on.” She said it too quickly, like she was trying to convince herself more than him.

The blonde tried to sit up, but his body felt like lead. Hyacine hurried to adjust the bed, helping him ease into the most comfortable position possible. He looked around but his gaze was still full of multicolored dots, probably thanks to the lack of nourishment. 

“How’s that even possible, well— Uhm, given my anatomy.” He asked in a murmur and the young doctor just deadpanned at him.

She scoffed, putting on a sly smile. “The answer to how, you must know the answer very well Mydeimos.” His face burned red at sweet Hyacine speaking in a double sense of his private affairs. Giggling, the pink-haired girl returned to her professional persona. “Well, even if it’s rare the probability of someone with your condition getting pregnant exists, it means that your womb is partially functional, even if you don’t have periods as such, you might have experienced ovulation from time to time, very speciated as well—” She cleared her throat fixing imaginary wrinkles on her uniform. “Your main attributes are of the male sex, so the probability was super low, not zero.” She avoided his eyes. “You two just hit a reproductive jackpot.”

Mydei nodded along her explanation, he guessed that possibility but it still felt too unreal even if it was already happening.

“How far along am I?” he rasped, his golden eyes half-lidded as he watched her scan her tablet like she was looking for the right words.

“You’re two months pregnant,” she finally said, and then glanced at him carefully, measuring his reaction. “I… I suggest you think carefully about this, Dei. After all, there’s not much time left if you were considering a procedure.”

At this Mydei hesitated for a moment, his breath hitching in his throat. He could imagine raising this child, holding them, protecting them, giving them the love he wasn’t sure he deserved. But the image of Phainon’s hooded figure replayed behind his eyes, the betrayal like a fresh wound. Could he really keep this baby safe? Would Phainon even want it—or would his shadowed life swallow them both whole?

Hyacine's warm hand was sold over his. “Dei, whatever you choose we will always support you. And I'm sure Phai would too, so do what your heart tells you to do.” 

Teal eyes looked at him with determination, he just gave her a faint smile and nodded. He has too many things to consider yet, also he's not so sure if he truly wants to find the truth, ignorance was truly a bliss. Before he knew nothing about Phainon's past and everything was fine, after just catching a glimpse of it everything seemed to crumble… Was it worth it to reach the bottom of all of these or should he just ignore it and move on?

His heart felt so tight on his chest.

“I think,” Hyacine said gently, drawing his attention back, “we need to talk about your health.” She turned the tablet toward him, her expression grave. “You’ve lost a lot of weight in just a few days. Your bloodwork shows you’re already anemic—your iron levels are too low. That explains the dizziness, the fainting, the weakness.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight.

Hyacine bit her lip before continuing, her tone more careful now. “Anemia is dangerous in pregnancy, Dei. It means your body isn’t carrying enough oxygen—for you or the baby. And with your placenta sitting low right now… it puts you at higher risk of bleeding if you don’t take care of yourself. Stress and poor nutrition will only make that worse.”

“...So I could lose it,” he whispered, his voice cracking on the words he barely dared to say.

She squeezed his hand tighter. “Not if you’re careful. Low placenta often corrects itself as the uterus grows. By around five or six months, it can move up on its own. But until then, you need to be cautious. No pushing your limits, no skipping meals, and definitely no more starving yourself out of guilt or grief.”

Her voice softened, though her eyes betrayed the fear she was trying to hide. “This doesn’t mean disaster, Dei. Plenty of people go through it and deliver healthy babies. But it does mean you have to choose to fight for yourself—for both of you. And that’s a choice only you can make.”

Mydei turned his face away, tears stinged in the back of his eyes. He wanted this child more than he could say—but wanting it meant risking everything. If he let himself hope, if he let himself believe he could be a father, could keep this baby safe, could love them… what if it all shattered before it even began?

The weight of it pressed down on him until it felt like the air was thinning.

Hyacine rubbed his hand gently before pulling away. “I'd love to stay and keep you company but work calls.” She said in a soft and condescending voice. “The visits will begin soon, and you're to be discharged tomorrow morning. See you later!”

Now alone, he was left to spiral on his own thoughts. Debating what he would regret doing or not was an insane task, he found himself wondering if someone could help him choose and  take the burden off him. Yet, Mydei knew that in the end he would still have the final word and it— terrified him.

Sharing his problem with the full picture meant blowing up Phainon's cover and he doesn't know why but he's reluctant to do so. Perhaps he needs to find out the truth before deciding on what to do.

A knock on the door of his hospital room and the door being opened woke him up from his inner musings.

Three pairs of eyes looked at him from the space between the barely open door and the door frame as if considering if it was safe to enter.

“Come in.” He said, encouraging Castorice, Cypher and Tribbios to move inside. The red-haired woman was the first one to enter and practically threw herself on top of his bed, almost forgetting they were in a hospital.

“Dei!” Her huge blue eyes shone with unreleased tears —reminding him from someone else—. Soon enough she regained her composure and sat on the edge of the bed while the other two dragged chairs near. “I was so scared when Agy called me to come and bring you to the hospital.” She told him, suddenly briefing him on the details of how he got to the hospital. “You wouldn't wake up and your body was so cold. I thought you were dying! So every traffic violation me and Ciphy made is worth it if you're fine now!”

Mydei laughed a little knowing how the two of them drove. It was a miracle they reached the hospital in one piece and didn't kill themselves on accident in the process.

“Took you a while to wake up though. How are you feeling? No lies.” Cipher asked, looking intently at his eyes. 

“Disoriented but better.” The three of them let out a relieved exhale. “Anemia seems to be the cause.”

Castorice’s face scrunched at that. “You were starving yourself for more than a week!” She chastised lightly, her voice more concerned than angry. “No more thinking about Phainon, just focus on yourself for now.”

Cipher soon agreed with her. “Yeah! I don't care about what happened to him but the next time I see him I will punch him for making you worry so much.”

At this Tribbios smiled awkwardly. “Just not in the face, Ciphy.” She looked at Mydei. “He still needs his face to work to pay for all of this.”

Mydei laughed a little bit more at that. Phainon often joked like that when Mydei threatened to punch him because he was being insufferable, alleging that his face was what put bread on the table. Ah, how he missed those moments.

“Thank you for everything guys.” He finally said, and they just smiled.

“Anytime.” Castorice answered for all of them.

Their laughter died down slowly, like ripples fading from a stone tossed into water. For a while, they just sat there with him, filling the silence with their presence.

Mydei leaned back against the pillows, watching them bicker softly over who was driving them home after visiting hours. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his chest. Warmth pressed at him from their closeness, their concern—but the weight in his stomach wouldn’t ease.

If they knew the truth—if they knew what he carried inside him—they’d never forgive him for keeping it to himself. And worse, they’d never forgive Phainon —if they knew who he really is— for disappearing.

“Mydei,” Castorice whispered suddenly, her voice lower, almost hesitant. “You scared us so badly. Promise us you won’t keep pushing yourself until you drop again.”

Her words stuck to him like glue. He wanted to promise, to ease the fear in her eyes, in all of their eyes. But part of him knew this wasn’t something a simple promise could fix. Not while his body was fragile, not while Phainon’s shadow hung over him.

“I’ll… try,” he said finally, and it was the most honest thing he could manage.

Cipher leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “Trying’s not enough. You don’t get to collapse on us again. Not until I’ve had my punch.” Her tone was sharp, but her trembling hands betrayed her. She was worried for Phainon and him, even if she refuses to admit it directly.

They all were worried for the couple, they just didn’t say it out loud.

Mydei’s gaze softened at her stubbornness, at Tribbios’s nervous laugh, at Castorice’s hands clutching the sheets as if to anchor him there. Their presence filled the sterile hospital room with a sense of safety he felt undeserving of —he was keeping them in the dark by his own selfishness; they'll be so heartbroken when they find out all of the truth.

How long could he keep them in the dark?

The secret sat heavy on his chest, heavier than his own anemia, heavier than the weight of Phainon’s absence. His friends were here, supportive and worried about him —yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell them what mattered most. Not yet. Not until he knew what truth awaited him on the other side.

So he smiled faintly, let them talk, let them believe he was on the mend. All while a quiet dread bloomed in his chest, whispering that the worst was yet to come.

They weren’t his only visitors, of course. Between the small talk and exaggerated concern, someone joked that Aglaea was currently wrestling with the far greater challenge of entertaining his mother outside. That got a few chuckles—illnesses were one thing, but a mother’s questions? That was the real endurance test .

After showering him with cheerful goodbyes and warm wishes for a quick recovery, they finally left, the room still buzzing faintly with their lightheartedness.

The door shut.

A moment later, it opened again.Two blonde women stood in the door frame, Aglaea entered first, composed as ever, and right behind him came his mother.

His mother's gaze locked on his frame —on his sunken face and weak body to be precise— turning the easygoing atmosphere from before into silence as the weight of her presence filled the room.

“Aglaea, thank you so much for accompanying me to my son’s room, I’d like to talk with Mydeimos in private.” The older woman spoke in a tone that left no room for argument. Aglaea merely nodded curtly, looking at his face too a faint knowing smile gracing her lips.

The ever polite woman  agreed instantly. “Of course, Ms. Gorgo. I’ll take my leave. Mydeimos, I’m glad you’re doing better, I wish you a fast recovery.”  With those words she gracefully left the room, closing the door behind her.

‘Coward’ . He cursed internally, knowing that he would likely be scolded by his mother without anyone else to distract her. And Nikador above, she’s clearly angry and Mydei doesn’t think he’ll ever grow out the instinctive fear it brings him.

“Mother.” He greeted her, not being able to meet her eyes. Instead his gaze focused on a wild loose hair that escaped her long braid —anything to avoid looking directly at her face and not to be rude—. “What brings you here?” He tried to keep his tone even.

Gorgo was having none of it. “What do you think, Mydeimos?” She gave him a gentle smile that was bonechilling. “To measure the hospital walls, of course.” She sarcastically answered.

“I’m sorry mom.” Mydei said in autopilot, that’s when he finally locked his eyes with hers. She was barely holding in tears, and the sight of it hurt like if someone had stabbed him with a knife and twisted it.

“Why are you even sorry about?” Her voice broke, as a silent tear fell from her left eye. “Mydeimos I can’t believe you out of all people would land yourself in a hospital for not being able to take care of yourself properly. Your father is already a handful for me to deal with, he’s sick constantly, and now you too!?” A sob escaped her mouth. “You two are going to be the death of me I swear. Don’t do this to me Mydeimos.”

“Mom, listen I’m really sorry.” He spoke quickly, not wanting to make his mother cry further. “It’s just the stress of the job.”

“Mydeimos I’m going to jump out of that window if you lie to me right on my face again.” She threatened, her voice still broken but fierce nonetheless. “Aglaea already told me that your boyfriend has disappeared, and your secretary had also informed me that you haven’t been around the office for over a week because you are ill. I birthed you, so I know that’s not the full story, so tell me what’s really happening?”

Mydei felt his heart up his throat as if he was about to explode. Logically speaking he’s a grown ass adult so it shouldn’t be so farfetched for him to start a family, but the admission would also admit many of the logistics behind his pregnancy, and he feels too ashamed to admit it to his own mother, there’s also the fact of Phainon’s identity. It was like he was a child again refusing to admit he did something wrong in fear of watching disappointment on his mother’s face.

“I— Mother— It’s just hard…” He bit his lip suddenly feeling dread on his gut.

“No.”

“Mom, I have something important to tell you—” He felt as if the air left his lungs.

Gorgo stepped closer looking at his face. “Mydeimos you—”

He placed his hands on his chest as if it somehow would make it easier to admit what was happening. “Mother, I—” She gently cradled his face between her hands, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb on his cheeks.

“ You’re pregnant, aren’t you ?” She asked in a soft voice, he nodded as the first tears began to fall from his eyes.

Then in almost a whisper he said. “ Yes .” Gorgo hugged him tightly and he let himself be comforted by her warm embrace. “I don’t know what to do," he whispered against her shoulder, barely letting the sound pass, but she heard him anyway.

“Why?” She asked in a gentle tone as she kept hugging her son, her little baby. It broke her heart to see him like this.

Another sob tore through him making him shake on her embrace. “I’m scared, I found out something about Phainon and I don’t know what’s best anymore.”

“Is it something bad?”

“ I don't know yet. ”

Gorgo held him tighter, her hand rubbing slow circles on his back the way she did when he was a child. “Mydeimos, listen to me.” She pulled back just enough to cup his face again, forcing his tear-filled golden eyes to meet hers. “You will not let fear decide for you. I did not raise you to cower from the truth.”

He wanted to look away, but her steady gaze pinned him in place, unrelenting but full of love.

“You think you’re weak because you’re frightened, but being frightened only means you still care about the outcome,” she continued, her voice low but firm, the kind of voice that brooked no argument. “Strength isn’t the absence of fear—it’s what you do despite it.”

“Mother, if I dig deeper, if I learn the truth about him, it could ruin everything,” he whispered, guilt staining every syllable.

“And if you don’t?” she asked immediately. “You’ll live half a life, chained to shadows you were too afraid to face. That’s not living, Mydei. That’s hiding .”

Her thumbs brushed away his tears as quickly as they fell. “I did not carry you, raise you, and watch you become the man you are to see you shrink away now. You are strong. Stronger than you think. And whatever truth you uncover, whatever pain it brings—” her voice cracked, but she pressed on, “you will survive it. Because you’ve always survived. And because you’re not alone.”

His lip trembled, breath hitching, but some small part of the weight pressing on his chest loosened under her words.

“When you have a chance to make a choice, make one that you know you won't regret.”  She kissed the top of his head, encouraging him to let loose and do whatever he felt was right. “No one knows the right answer, but you. So do what you feel is the right thing.”

He broke again, tears spilling freely, and she drew him back into her arms, rocking him gently.

For the first time since Phainon vanished, Mydei allowed himself to cry without shame.

His mother’s words were slowly sinking in, he definitely would want to do many things differently, to change things that weren’t in his control, but he doesn’t want his future to be built upon regrets. Mydei really hated that his heart was such an illogical thing, he knew the dangers and he still chose to have hope.

Deep in his heart he knew that he would hate himself forever if he let go of Phainon without being completely honest with him and knowing the truth. Mydei clung to Gorgo like he was drowning, her words wrapping around him like a lifeline he hadn’t known he needed. The sobs racked his chest until his whole body shook, his tears soaking into her shoulder.

“ I don’t want to hate him ,” he admitted in a broken whisper. “I don’t want to raise this child with bitterness eating me alive. I don’t want my baby to grow up as… as if they were a mistake.” His voice cracked on the last word, shame pouring out of him like poison.

Gorgo pulled back sharply at that, her hands gripping his face with surprising strength. “Look at me.”

Golden eyes, blurred with tears, met her own.

“You listen carefully, Mydeimos,” she said, voice trembling but fierce. “This child is not a mistake. Do you understand me? I don’t care what Phainon has done, or what he hasn’t done—this baby is yours. Yours. Flesh of your flesh, heart of your heart. And that makes them a blessing, never a curse.”

Something inside him cracked wider at her words, a dam breaking, grief and fear and aching love spilling all at once. Unable to find words to contradict his mother he nodded, finally letting go a little of her embrace, his spiraling thoughts finally reaching to a stop.

“I’m so scared,” he admitted, voice raw. “I don’t know who Phainon really is. I don’t know what’s waiting for me if I choose to keep going with this. But…” He pressed a hand against his abdomen, fingers curling protectively. “…but I know I want this child . I can’t run from that. Not anymore.”

Gorgo’s tears fell freely now, but her smile was radiant through them. She kissed his forehead, resting hers against his in a quiet benediction. “Then you’ve already made your choice.”

Mydei closed his eyes, he thought of Phainon—of the laughter, the warmth, the promises whispered in the dark. And then of the secrets, the disappearance, the gnawing doubt. Love was complicated, messy, perhaps even dangerous. But wasn’t that what made it real?

“I’ll give him the chance to explain,” Mydei whispered at last, voice steady despite the tears. “I’ll give him that much. Because I still… I still love him. And because this child deserves the truth—about him, about us. All of it”

Gorgo smiled proudly at her son, he was strong enough and she knew that he would be able to overcome this situation. His tears finally stopped as his eyes now burned with undying resolve.

When he was already discharged from the hospital, — with a lot of prescriptions, medical orders, full of medicines and eating supplements — Mydei —thanks to the way he arrived at the hospital— had to ask someone to pick him up. He had called Tribbios but it turned out that Cipher and her weren't joking about the amount of traffic infractions they made, they both got their driving licenses removed until they took the exam again… And knowing those two it would take months.

He was tempted to call Hephaestion or Perdikkas, but those two were busy as hell working and studying for their master degree and he didn't want to intrude. Without other options, he settled on asking for an Uber. He didn't like taking those as he had his own car, and from past unpleasant experiences.

Mydei waited for a couple of minutes, before realizing the request had canceled itself automatically. It was strange , he made another attempt with the same result, another and another. Until at the sixth attempt it worked. 

The trip to his apartment was nothing worth mentioning, after all the oddities happening lately, normalcy became alien to him.

Perhaps, he spoke too fast.

Opening the door of his apartment made him freeze at the main door. He seemed to have run out of luck.

His apartment was completely trashed, some burglar had entered while he was away in the hospital and emptied his apartment from all the expensive stuff. His decorations, his TV, his computer, everything that seemed to have value was completely gone. Unconsciously he closed the door in silence, then he opened it again as if it would make his things magically re-appear. 

It didn't.

Mydei stood at the door for at least five minutes, staring at his destroyed apartment with incredulity. A hysterical laugh tore from his throat, brittle and sharp, as he sank slowly to the floor, fingers tangling in his golden hair, pulling and twisting it until it looked like a bird’s nest. His heart hammering, stomach twisting, he tried to make sense of the chaos. What did I do to deserve this? Stepping inside was dangerous as he didn’t know what really happened, there could be something or well… Someone, armed and—. 

It was as if he had opened Pandora's box recently and the universe was punishing for trying to get answers to the questions that he had never asked in the first place but were forced on him.

His pulse raced as every nerve screamed a warning, and yet he had to calm himself enough to call the police. His apartment wasn’t just a mess; it wasn’t safe. Not anymore. Nice. He had to look where to stay until he found a new place. Cool. And he belatedly realized that he definitely had to be more cautious with the people around him.

When the police arrived they just looked at him and said: “Oh it’s you again.” Straight to his face, they asked general questions, barely even looked through the apartment and when they questioned the neighbors everyone suddenly had an alibi not to know anything.The guards at the entrance claimed a change of shift and that the security cameras hadn’t been working for a long time. 

Mydeimos looked at the scene before him with incredulity, it was such a contrast to the events just a couple of weeks ago. Police seemed more invested in trying to find Phainon, his neighbors had looked more concerned and the guards helped with everything they could. Everything had turned 180° on him. The golden-eyed man’s heart sank. This wasn’t incompetence. This was deliberate .

He saw the police practically yawning at his demands for security, for police assistance, this wasn't normal and he really would appreciate the help. 

His apartment —their apartment, Phainon’s and his—, once his safe place, now felt like a trap. Mydei’s eyes darted from shattered shelves to the bare walls, his pulse thrumming in his ears. Then the door clicked, and the man in the uniform leaned lazily in, his presence swallowing the room.

“Look, pretty boy, we filed your case and there’s nothing we can do, at the moment…” The officer leaned lazily against the doorframe, his smirk sharp and cold. “Well, unless you’re willing to… cooperate.”

Mydei blinked, confusion tightening his chest. “What do you mean?”

The man let out a laugh, low and ugly. The man stepped inside without permission, the door clicking shut behind him. “Oh, don’t play dumb,” he said, brushing against Mydei’s arm casually, his fingers brushing the sensitive pulse at the wrist.  “Guys like you don’t get far unless they give something back. You want me to really look into your case? Maybe make some files go higher up the chain?” His eyes dragged over Mydei in a way that made his skin crawl. “It’ll cost you. But not in cash.”

The air left Mydei’s lungs. For a moment he couldn’t even speak, his throat tight, his stomach flipping. He’d dealt with shady people before, even threats — but this was different. This man wore a badge. Pretending authority gave him the right to corner him.

“I’m not interested,” Mydei said finally, his voice steadier than he felt.

“Not interested?” The officer’s smirk deepened. He leaned closer, tilting his head, and Mydei could smell the sharp, suffocating scent of his cologne. “You really think this is voluntary? Not interested?” he echoed, his tone mocking. “Come on, sunshine. Don’t tell me no one’s ever told you how pretty those lips are. It would be a shame to waste them.”

His hand brushed over Mydei’s shoulder, lingered at the collarbone, pressed lightly against the hollow of his throat. Mydei flinched instinctively. The touch was deliberate, slow, invasive. Mydei’s whole body tensed. He was really pushing his luck, he didn't want to be jailed and pay a fine —to give money to this very same disgusting mimic of a human being— because he’d beat a police officer to pulp, nevertheless the idea was beginning to sound tempting.

Mydei wanted nothing but to get rid of this man but every instinct told him if he reacted violently, it could be worse.… The authority the man held over him had him just dealing with the situation in silence. 

“Do you know who I am?” Mydei tried, voice shaking, golden eyes fierce, but the words were swallowed in fear

“Of course I do,” the man whispered, leaning so close Mydei could feel his shadow over his body. “And that’s why it’s so enticing. You get it, don’t you?.”

The officer’s hand trailed along Mydei’s spine under the pretense of adjusting him, lingering over the curve of his lower back, a dangerous intimacy. Mydei pressed himself against the wall instinctively, stomach twisting, bile rising, throat tight

“I—I don’t think—”

The officer cut him off, lowering his voice to a predatory whisper. “Don’t think. Just listen. Do you have any idea how many victims beg us to take their cases seriously? You’re lucky I’m even offering you this chance. One night with me and suddenly the cameras are working again, suddenly your neighbors remember things. Funny how that happens.”

The room seemed smaller, the air heavier. Mydei couldn’t breathe. His hands dug into his own thighs as he pretended to put them on his pockets, nails biting into skin just to keep from trembling.

The officer let the silence stretch, as if savoring the power in watching Mydei’s horror. “Come on,” he murmured, tilting his head, “you already look like you know how to beg. I bet you’d be good at it.”

It was then Mydei realized—there was no one else. This was a direct attack, everyone had been bought and bribed, no one would help him, and justice had just proved to be useless. He was being targeted, there were many reasons he could come up with, but given the recent events… It had something to do with his missing boyfriend.

“Stop it.” He demanded, not knowing what else to do he felt so exposed and cornered that probably hitting this man was the best course of action or perhaps they're expecting him to react like that. Everything felt suffocating.

“Really? You’d make things so much easier for yourself if you just…” He tilted his head, gaze dragging down Mydei’s body, lingering with an unspoken implication. “Played along.”

Mydei could feel his body curling inward, but he forced himself to lock eyes with the officer. “Get out of my apartment,” he said, teeth gritted, voice raw.

The man paused, smirk faltering, then leaned back, mock bowing. “Suit yourself, sunshine,” he said in a low, chilling tone. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.” He tapped two fingers to his temple in a mock salute before leaving.  The door clicked shut, but the silence didn’t bring relief—it pressed down harder.

Mydei sank against the wall, shaking, bile rising, trembling fingers pressing into his abdomen. The apartment felt colder than before, stripped not only of his possessions but now of his sense of safety.

And beneath the terror, beneath the nausea and the fear… a furious ember burned. Rage, bright and pure. He pressed both of his hands against his abdomen, teeth clenched. No. He wasn’t going to let scum like that officer — or anyone else — break him. Not now.

Aglaea was concerned to say the least, the people she cherished the most seemed to have fallen apart by the seams. First, Phainon went missing and even if everyone pretends that the police were taking cards on the topic, they all innerly knew that it wasn’t enough, that if enough time passes the case will just be put in the bottom of an unending waiting list along with many other people that went missing. Sadly, they all had their hands tied and there was nothing they could do but to wait.

Now, Mydeimos had become a shell of his former self. The blonde had seemed fine the day she visited him at the hospital with his mother, two days later she was surprised to receive a call from him asking for her help to sell his apartment —the one he shared with Phainon—, and to her greater surprise the young businessman had been staying in a hotel while he looked for another place to move. Finally, when he moved he refused to share his new address with anyone.

It was strange, he clearly wasn’t fine and yet he decided to isolate himself.

Confused at his behavior she asked him to meet and discuss the situation, because something had happened to change Mydei’s mind to that extent. Mydei only agreed to meet at a very discreet cafeteria a week later. Upon arriving, she noticed the change on his frame.

In a desperate attempt to conceal his physical decay on her eyes he had settled with wearing one of the outfits she had gifted him a long ago— as if that fact would distract her eyes—. And for the common eye he looked radiant, but she noticed the signs: He was wearing his rest glasses, that albeit fashionable, they were trying to conceal huge eyebags on his eyes, his hair was tied in a ponytail that looked stylish but with a closer look it was just his tangled hair tied, and somehow he seemed slimmer when he doesn’t have that build.

“Mydeimos.” She raised her hand to catch his attention. His eyes locked with hers and then he avoided her gaze while he walked towards the table she was sitting at. “How have you been?” 

“Not gonna lie, I’ve seen better days.” He huffed an attempt of laughter that came out hollow and more of a tired exhale. “ And you? Is the problem at your company solved?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.” She answered politely. “Yes, we fixed it last week. But I didn’t come here to talk about my company Mydei. I’m worried for your well-being.”

“I appreciate the concern Aglaea, but it’s unnecessary.” He said, as he scanned the menu with a pained expression. “I’m doing fine, or well, as fine as I can.” He swiftly added, “By the way, I returned to the office this week. My colleagues wanted to throw a party upon my return but I stopped them.” Mydei explained as if he was merely talking about the weather.

“Mydeimos, you’re selling your department, yours and Phainon’s.” The blonde woman stated firmly. “It’s too sudden, and unlike you. As your friend, I’m worried, what happened?”

Golden eyes darkened and his face morphed into a hollow and tired expression.

“Long story short, when I returned from the hospital I found out that someone had barged into our apartment.” He explained with a deadpan tone while Aglaea could feel her jaw going slack at the information.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!" She exclaimed, agitated and worried, her composure long forgotten in the face of concern. “Didn’t you think that it would be safer for you to stay over until you buy a new apartment instead of staying at a hotel? Why didn’t you call the police and ask for their support?”

He gave her a dark chuckle and shook his head. “I filed my case and there was nothing they could do.” His voice was venomous as he said those words, “I didn’t want to bother you, so I decided to handle this situation alone. It’s not that bad I promise.”

She exhaled loudly before returning to her usual composure.

“Mydeimos, what's going on? You look different but not in a good way.”

“Do I?”

She just nodded, her eyes had already scanned all his figure. “You're hiding many things, and while it’s completely normal to keep things to yourself… I can see that what you're keeping a secret that it’s ripping you apart, so it’s hard for me to pretend I don't notice the change.”

The blonde man hung his head low, letting out a mirthless laugh. “I suppose that's the case. But for now it's for the best.” Her frown deepened at his words. “You'll figure out things eventually, don't worry.”

Aglaea reached across the table, resting her hand lightly on his wrist. “Mydei, please. Don’t give me that empty line. I’ve known you too long. You don’t look like a man who’s simply tired—you look like someone who’s carrying something that’s burning you from the inside out.”

He flinched at her touch, almost imperceptibly, but didn’t pull away. His golden eyes flickered toward her and then dropped again to the table.

“It’s complicated,” he murmured.

“Then help me understand.” Her voice softened, but there was an urgency behind it. “You don’t have to tell me everything, not all at once. You don’t even have to tell me now, but I’m willing to wait until you feel like you can trust me with what burdens you so much.”

For a moment, his lips pressed into a hard line, as if holding back words too dangerous to say. He smiled again, but this time it was strained, sharp. “If you knew what I knew, you’d tell me I was a fool. That I should stop playing with fire before I get burned.”

Aglaea leaned in with a sharp smile of her own. “Try me.”

He raised his head finally, and she saw it—his exhaustion wasn’t just physical. It was bone-deep, threaded with fear and something else. Doubt .

“I— I've just been busy, that's all.”

“Oh, no. You are not shutting me out like that.” She smiled towards the waiter gesturing that they were ready to order. “You’re not going to escape me this easily.”

“What happened to the ‘I’m willing to wait’ part of your words earlier?” He snorted, smiling briefly while completely flabbergasted at her attitude. The blonde woman ignored him for a moment while she told her order to the waiter, playing along with her antics. Mydei placed his order, and surprisingly it too was different from what he usually would ask.

A green tea and a turkey sandwich. She raised an eyebrow at his order while Mydei looked away like a child caught stealing a candy.

“I’m not keeping my word if you decide that lying to me is the best course of action.” She finally answered him after the waiter left to bring their food.

He sighed for the nth time that afternoon. “Aglaea, look, I’m sorry, but I’m not shutting you out,” he muttered, though his hunched shoulders betrayed him. “I just have enough on my plate without—” He stopped himself, jaw tightening, as if he’d said too much.

“Without what?” she pressed softly.

“Without dragging anyone else into it,” he snapped, the words sharper than he intended. Silence hung between them for a moment, his hands curling into fists on the table before he unclenched them.

Aglaea studied him, her expression wounded but patient. “You know I don’t scare easy.” Her eyes focused on Mydei’s hands. “I can guess that whoever 's behind Phainon’s disappearance might be trying to go after you too, am I wrong?”

Golden eyes widened meeting hers. “How—?”

“It's a simple deduction. Judging by your reaction I’m correct. So, you’re trying to keep your distance from us in order to keep us safe.” He nodded in silence, still trying to wrap his head around her ability to look more deeper than the common eye can. “Mydeimos, if things are happening just as you think they’re going to, I must remind you that we all are already targets. We all are Phainon’s close circle, you just happened to live with him.”

Mydei’s lips parted, but no sound came out. He looked like he wanted to argue, to deny it, to shove her logic aside—but the flicker of panic in his eyes betrayed him.

Aglaea leaned forward, lowering her voice. “You think you’re protecting us by pulling away, but you’re not. You’re just hurting yourself.”

His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking, his golden eyes darting briefly to the side before locking onto hers. “You don’t understand. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of us.”

Before either of them could push further, the clink of dishes broke the tension. The waiter returned with practiced cheer, sliding their plates onto the table. “One turkey sandwich with green tea, and a cappuccino with the grilled chicken panini.”

Aglaea thanked him politely, but her eyes never left Mydei.

Mydei muttered his own thanks, though his voice was hoarse, the mask slipping for just a second before he straightened again, as if willing the conversation to be over. In silence they began to dig in their food, while eating she realized how Mydei would often struggle to digest his sandwich, taking pauses between bites.

“Mydeimos… Are you feeling alright?” Aglaea stopped eating just to look at him, who hadn’t realized she did until she spoke.

“Yeah, it’s just dizziness.”

She hummed, not trusting his words. “Mydei you have anemia, you shouldn’t be having green tea.”

“It’s good for digestion, no?”

“Yes, but it affects iron absorption.”

He looked at the tea and then at her cappuccino as if they had personally offended him. 

“I swear to Nikador, if it’s not one thing it’s the other.” He murmured, before taking a sip from his tea and making a face to it.

“We can order something else, perhaps a frappuccino that you like?” His eyes glinted excitedly at the offer, but after a second he seemed to remember something and the excitement died down. “Perhaps, water?”

“Let’s stay like this. Tea isn’t going to kill me.” He smiled confidently, just to force himself to drink another sip afterwards. He cringed even more at the taste, making her giggle lightly.

“No, but your face is certainly going to kill me.”

Mydei very maturely just flipped his finger at her.

And Aglaea very elegantly and wisely, flipped both of her fingers at him.

They continued eating in silence, save for the faces Mydei was making at the food and teasing jokes here and then. The main topic was completely closed now and sensing no matter what she said; Mydei had decided not to change his mind, Aglaea decided to suggest something.

“Say Mydeimos… Why don’t we all ask for police support for prevention?”

The laughter between them faded as quickly as it had come. At Aglaea’s words, Mydei froze mid-bite, the sandwich halfway to his mouth. He set it down carefully on the plate, his fingers tightening around the crust until it bent.

“Police support?” he echoed, his voice low, neutral in a way that made her wary.

“Yes. If what you fear is true, then at least let us—”

“No.” His reply was instant, clipped like a blade’s edge. He didn’t raise his voice, but the sharpness in it made her blink. “That’s not an option.”

Aglaea leaned back slowly, studying him. “Mydei…”

His eyes flicked up, and for the first time all afternoon, she saw something different from exhaustion or grief, it was pure revulsion burning on those golden eyes.

“They won’t help,” he said finally, each word dragged out like it cost him. “Not when it matters. Not when you need them most.” He broke eye contact, staring down at his plate as if the food itself might turn on him. The blonde was now clearly nauseous.

Mydeimos excused himself before going to the bathroom, his face pale and with some green undertone that weren’t there just a few instants before. Something had happened —that much was clear. Aglaea didn’t press, though every instinct screamed to.

He was gone longer than she expected. Long enough that Aglaea’s cappuccino cooled untouched, her thoughts racing in circles she hated. She replayed the sharpness in his tone, the way his knuckles had whitened around the sandwich, the color draining from his face. There was something else going on, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

When Mydei finally returned, his hair slightly damp at the temples, he wore the expression of someone desperately trying to pull a mask back into place. His pale complexion was betrayed by the faint redness in his eyes —his glasses were now hanging off the edge of his shirt—, as though he’d splashed water on his face in a futile attempt to reset.

“You’re back,” Aglaea said carefully, trying to read him without making him feel cornered.

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse, but he cleared his throat and forced a thin smile as he sat down. “Sorry about that. Guess I should have listened to you.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she replied gently, though her concern sharpened.

“Good,” he muttered, grabbing his tea as if it might distract them both. “At least there's no more of that condemned tea.” Mydei joked and seemingly everything was back to normal.

Silence stretched, thick and awkward, until Aglaea leaned forward, resting her chin against her hand. “You know… if you need something, you could just tell me.”

“Actually… There's something I wanted to ask you for a while,” she nodded, prompting him to continue. “Do you by any chance know more about that girl Cyrene?”

Aglaea didn't expect that question but wasn't against it, either. “You mean the girl who's always around Phainon?”

“Yes.”

“Well I do know a few things about those two relationship.” Her eyes scanned his body language, but just in case she added. “They had never been romantically involved, by the way.”

“That's a relief.” He exhaled… Was Mydei's concerned by the idea of Phainon running away with someone else? She shook her head, her own need for drama mustn't interfere with her judgement, Mydei wasn't insecure like that. Right ?

"They used to live together though.” She added and Mydei just blinked at her in confusion, as if asking ‘why it was relevant’. “They were new to the city and came from the same place, so for them it was logical to live together until they established. Cyrene is a photographer and filmmaker.” Explaining that just earned a hum from the other. “She’s now a freelancer, but I dare to say that she's almost a full-time employee at Phainon's agency given how often she works with them.”

The blonde cleared his throat before commenting on her information on Cyrene. “You seem to know quite a lot of her professional profile.” She chuckled. “If what you are saying is correct, Phainon and her had always worked together.”

“I'm not going to lie, I was interested in hiring her for another project I have in mind.” She explained, he nodded already knowing what Aglaea meant by that.

“You're a fashion designer after all.” He agreed, a playful smile growing in his face for once. “You just happen to work in programming and finances. The most logical position for you.”

“Rich words coming from someone with a musical production degree.” She teased back. “Art doesn't sell well, so money comes first, dreams come after.”

“We gotta have the money to make those dreams come true.” He laughed, knowing that both of them had the money to make those dreams come true, but too many responsibilities and promises yet to accomplish to act on those. “Luckily we aren't the only ones.”

She nodded. “You must know Phainon's reason to work as a model, right?”

He giggled a little, it was a very common anecdote Phainon used to tell every now and then, but it never failed to earn laughs. “Pettiness, sheer and raw pettiness.” He smiled. “He tried to be a pilot, he passed the exams and everything, but when it came to the final round of interviews, someone in the administration sent him to the wrong wing of the building.”

Aglaea discreetly snorted, already imagining Phainon's voice each time he tells that story.

“Instead of walking into the flight division’s assessment panel, he walked into the publicity team’s office. Apparently, he thought the whole thing was just… another formality. They asked him questions, and he answered with all the seriousness of someone explaining wind resistance and engine calibration.” Mydei’s smile finally broke through, faint but real. “They, of course, thought he was role-playing as a pilot for a campaign.”

Aglaea laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“And when they brought out cameras for ‘documentation,’ he thought it was for official records. So, he sat there, stone-faced, uniform sharp, hair in place… They loved it.” He shook his head, golden eyes glinting with reluctant amusement. “Next week, he was on a recruitment billboard with the slogan: ‘Your future starts here .’” He gave an incredulous snort, before imitating Phainon's voice with a mocking tone. “ Except mine sure as hell didn’t.”

Aglaea laughed outright now, shoulders shaking.

“He said when he went back to demand an explanation, they just congratulated him on his ‘natural presence in front of the camera.’ And by then, he was too stubborn to admit he’d been tricked into modeling. So he kept going.”

“He also said that when he checked his bank account he was suddenly motivated.” Her laughter calmed down already. “The salary was three times their initial offer. Cyrene had just begun to be a freelancer that time so she kind of stuck to Phainon once again.”

“By the way, perhaps you have her contact information?” He asked, his gaze sharp and the seriousness of his tone returned.

She hummed as if deep in thought. “II could give it to you, but in exchange for something…”

“Tell me what's your price, Aglaea?” 

“Promise me that you will tell me if you need help. You're not alone, understood?” She smiled, holding her pinky to make a promise as if they were kids, scoffing he held her pinky with his. “Okay, you better keep your word Mydeimos. Here—.”

His phone sounded with a notification from Aglaea, it was Cyrene's CV, there it listed her phone number and her address.

“Thank you for everything, Aglaea.”

Turns out that Cyrene lived in a rather common apartment complex, they didn't even verify his identity before letting him pass. Police patrol the zone often but he doesn't trust they're doing anything but burning time until their shift ends. He shook his head avoiding the negative thoughts that will surely show on his face.

Mydei didn't want to give the wrong first impression to Cyrene. 

Given that Aglaea liked her so much to even consider working with her, the girl was surely very reliable and charming, which reassured him a lot. He doesn't know how to begin this conversation with her, but she's likely the only person who has the answers he seeks.

Apartment 093.

He called at the doorbell a couple of times before realizing it wasn't working as no sound was emitted from inside. He knocked the door and after a few moments, he heard shuffling around from the inside. The door opened slightly, as the person inside seemed to check who was knocking at the door.

Then it opened revealing a messy looking Cyrene, her pink hair was slightly tangled as if she had likely just woken up from a nap, while her blue eyes were still drowsy from sleep. She was wearing an old oversized t-shirt from a concert from a band he also liked, a blanket tied on her waist as a skirt and she wore her slippers on the wrong feet. Her eyes widened in recognition after a few seconds, then she shut the door in his face and loud clattering could be heard once more.

“Did I do something wrong?” He tilted his head in confusion at her reaction.

Mydei was about to give up and leave, and try to send a message to her first. Oh right… He forgot to send a message to Cyrene to ask her if it was okay for her if he visited, he just checked her schedule and came to visit. He didn't give her a warning.

It completely slipped from his mind, while part of him tried to excuse him because if he asked her if he could visit he probably would have gotten an excuse for an answer. Another part knew that it was incredibly rude what he did, before he could chastise himself more the door opened again, now Cyrene had gone and fixed herself to look presentable, she still combed her hair with her fingers looking at the sides subtly to check for the mess, that without doubt she fixed at top speed.

With a soft smile she finally locked her eyes with his.

“Hi~! It's nice to finally meet you.”

Chapter Text

Enduring the cold shadows you leave behind your every step,

I'm waiting for the moment we can set ablaze those ghosts,

Until there's shadows no more.

“Hi~! It's nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Mydeimos cleared his throat, feeling a little ashamed of intruding into her apartment without invitation. “I apologize for my rudeness of coming uninvited.”

Cyrene smiled, stepping to the side in a silent request to come in. “Don't worry about that.”

He nodded curtly before entering the apartment, closing the door behind him. He paused awkwardly in the entrance, feeling out of place. The apartment was undeniably warm, full of mismatched colors and little signs of life—plants drooping in bright pots, photographs pinned at odd angles, books stacked in teetering piles. It felt lived in, far more than his new place has..

“Please don’t stand there. Take a seat and feel at home.” She said brightly, even as she scowled at her fridge as though it had personally betrayed her. With a sigh, she turned. “Do you like pomegranates?”

Mydei had just settled stiffly on the couch, but at the mention of the fruit, his mouth watered before he could stop it. “Yes, I do.” 

Maybe he didn’t mask the eagerness in his tone well enough, because Cyrene laughed lightly at his too-quick answer.

“So, you're one of mine.” She declared, triumphant, producing a bowl full of cold, ruby-red seeds, balancing it precariously with two glasses and a bottle of natural yogurt. .

All at once.

Mydei’s lips tugged into a faint smile. He stood and helped her carry the whole precarious load to the coffee table. So that’s where Phainon learned the habit of juggling everything at once.

When they sat, there was a beat of silence where they simply stared at one another—each sizing up the other, deciding how much to give away. Cyrene sat sideways on the couch, bouncing her knee, fidgeting with her spoon, he couldn't blame her for being nervous.He's aware he doesn't look like the most approachable person on earth. Mydei only sat straighter, hands folded too neatly in his lap, every line of his posture screaming restrained caution. 

“So, why the sudden visit?” Cyrene finally asked, prodding a spoon into the yogurt. “You contacted me earlier, but I didn’t think you’d actually show up. I couldn’t even prepare a proper welcome! You’re such a meanie—arriving unannounced to a cute girl’s place!”

Mydei blinked, utterly unprepared for the teasing. Was he supposed to feel ashamed? Annoyed? Flattered? His ears burned hot, and he looked away, scowling faintly. If Phainon was a menace, this girl was double.

“It just slipped from my mind. And I wanted to talk with you in person, there's well— Certain stuff that shouldn't be treated through the phone.” There was a knowing glint on her blue eyes. “I thought it'd be better to pay you a visit.”

Cyrene hummed, leaning her cheek into her palm, watching him over the rim of her glass. There was something almost knowing in her smile. “You’re lucky I recognized you right away. Otherwise, I would have called the police.”

The word hit him like a stone.

“They don’t do anything,” Mydei spat, the words far too bitter and sharp for the cozy atmosphere that had been building.

The air shifted instantly, lightness slipping away like sand through fingers.

Cyrene froze for only a beat, then hummed again, slower this time, as though weighing what not to say. “Hmm, well… that’s true. But Phainon made them comply a while ago.”

His eyes snapped up at that, wide.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” she added quickly, still calm, “but I can assure you—it’s not what you’re imagining.”

“How are you so sure?” His voice came low, dangerous, as though daring her to lie.

“Well…” Her lips twitched into a sly grin. “I think you don’t believe our Phai is capable of blackmailing, right?” Her laugh was light, but edged with mischief. “Don’t forget—I’m a photographer. You’d be surprised how many people would do anything for certain pictures not to see the light of day.”

Mydei let out a long breath, the tension leaving his shoulders, though not completely. She noticed—of course she noticed. Her spoon scraped against the bowl, her blue eyes following him carefully now.

“You haven't answered my question yet, my dear Mydeimos.”

The blonde’s lips pressed into a thin line. He inhaled sharply, as if debating whether to retreat, then forced himself forward. “I wanted to ask you some questions about Phainon’s past… Are you familiar with a man named Lygus?”

Cyrene froze halfway to her mouth, the pomegranate seed trembling between her fingers. Her mood soured so visibly he instantly regretted it. ‘Probably, I overstepped many boundaries with that question.’

“I'd say that we're acquainted, yes. But we don't get along.” Her smile dropped and Mydei wondered if he would be kicked out from her apartment soon. “Why come to me with that question?”

“It's because, before Phainon disappeared, we argued pretty badly… Lygus was the topic that started that discussion and well, things went from 0 to 100 real fast. “ She just nodded along, as if saying ‘what does it have to do with me?’ “Our discussion stopped when that man, Lygus, entered my office. I thought our argument would remain in standby until night. Well, soon enough I realized that Phainon and Lygus knew each other, I didn't think much of it at first but once that guy said your name, Phainon's reaction took me by surprise.”

He paused, just retelling those events made his heart twist painfully at the thought.

“I had never seen him so violent— The beating reached the point where I couldn't pry Phainon off Lygus and security was involved.” 

Mydei let out a tired exhale, regaining a little bit of air before continuing, realizing that perhaps he's talking too much about something Cyrene might not care about. But her expression didn’t shift, but her hand lowered slowly to her lap, the seed forgotten. Mydei pushed on.

“He cried. Begged me not to trust Lygus.  And… I couldn't handle all of that, I guess I still can't.”

Cyrene’s mask slipped just enough for him to notice. But instead of pity, her silence carried the weight of calculation.

After a long stretch, she asked quietly, “Have you spoken to Lygus since then?”

He shook his head, chuckling bitterly. “My life has been too much of a hassle recently to try and reach for that strange man.” He blinked in realization. “Besides, I think it's weirder that he hadn't contacted me yet”

“Strange, huh? How so?” She asked, and something in her eyes told Mydei that he should keep talking to get the answers he wants.

“When I asked about his connection to Phainon he just answered ‘He had always had greater potential, so naturally I tried to nurture that.’ I said I would re-schedule the meeting to other day and I've —”

“Dear Oronix! This man is still a freak!” Her mouth curled with disdain. “Since you’ve not spoken with him, I can answer without him poisoning you first.”

That last phrase made Mydei’s stomach flip. “Poisoning me?”

“Don't mind me, it's just a custom of mine — Lygus can be persuasive.” She shrugged after murmuring the last part. “Lygus, well, he's a researcher. He must be still trying to create his Irontomb project, hence why he reached for you, our dear weapon tycoon.”

“Wait, you know about the project?” Her smile turned cold and her gaze distant as if just the mention of it upset her.

Mydei shifted uncomfortably. A dull pressure began to throb behind his eyes, the kind of headache he’d been ignoring for days now. He forced his posture straight, unwilling to show weakness, but the sour taste in his mouth didn’t leave.

“It's safe to guess, Phainon does as well.”

She nodded again. He felt his own mood sour at it. 

Why had Phainon been so secretive around him, was Mydei so untrustworthy that he couldn't share his true point of view with him?

“Are you mad at Phainon for not telling you his thoughts on the topic?”

“I'm mad at him for more than that.” His voice came out sharper than intended, scraping his throat raw. The sudden rush of anger made his chest tighten, and he drew in a breath that didn’t quite fill his lungs. He hated that his body betrayed him in moments like this, when he needed control the most. “I'm reaching the point where I wonder if I should be worried for his well-being or just move on?”

“Why shouldn't you be worried?”

He laughed bitterly, sharp golden eyes meeting her blue ones with annoyance. These two were too skilled at keeping the truth under wraps. Siblings or something like that, he guesses.

“Cut the crap Cyrene. We both know that Phainon disappeared on his own accord.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but a sly smile soon graced her lips. “Are you saying that Phainon is suffering by choice?”

“No— I mean, he seems to be doing fine.” The room tilted for a second, a dizzy sway that made him blink hard. His palms were damp, though he kept them hidden against his knees. He couldn’t let her see how much it cost him just to keep steady. 

Her smile was borderline too threatening at this point. “How can you say that?”

“He's the Flame Reaver and we both know it.”

That 's it. He said it, now he just has to find out whether he was screwed or not.

Cyrene's smile did not waver, but her voice lost that sweet undertone it usually has.

“That in fact is true, but—.” She bit her lip, biting back the harsh retort she was about to give him. “He didn't choose to become that. It's the only way he can try and keep everyone safe.”

“Hacking and deleting data that cost many people their jobs, and even their safety—” He scoffed. “How's that helping anyone?”

“Producing weapons and selling them left and right — how is that helping anyone?” Cyrene mirrored his scoff, eyes glittering like a blade. “Do not talk about things you don’t understand, Mydeimos.”

Her tone lingered in the air, suffocating. Mydei pressed his hand against his temple, the beginnings of a headache pulsing there, but he refused to look away.

“You want the truth?” she asked, her voice suddenly softer, almost sweet. “I’ll show you the truth.”

She rose slowly, fingers brushing the hem of her skirt. Mydei blinked, uneasy. His pulse jumped. “Cyrene—” A bead of sweat trickled down his temple despite the cool air in the room. His pulse pounded too loud in his ears, the kind of warning sign he always dismissed until it grew unbearable. He wanted to run away, Cyrene clearly wasn't right in the head and—

“Look at me.” Her tone was final.

He looked at her and her eyes widened once he took a good look at her legs. He was horrified by the sight, the world tilted as Cyrene lifted her prosthetic away with practiced ease. He hadn’t even noticed it before, too wrapped up in his own turmoil. His breath caught as his gaze fell on her legs: Black and irregular scars littered her ‘healthy’ leg —it looked so pale and skinny as if it was about to break— the other cut short in a grotesque stump of twisted flesh that looked ripped from a nightmare. Mydeimos willed to keep looking as Cyrene flopped back to the sofa and huffed in annoyance.

“This,” she hissed, tossing the prosthetic aside as if it disgusted her. “ Is what Irontomb does, and I don't even know if it's for the best or the worst that I'm somewhat immune to it.” 

Her laugh cracked — too sharp, too bitter. “Yeah, Phainon and I are very familiar with Lygus. We were his victims, or as he liked to call us: his projects with the most potential. Naturally, we love the guy. Dearly.”

She snorted in pure anger, her sarcasm was too bitter that hurt. Mydei just looked away, not knowing if he had to apologize or leave. It was too much, and he probably had just seen the tip of the iceberg.

“Don’t leave. Don’t apologize.” Cyrene leaned back into the sofa, eyes still fixed on him. “You came for answers. Now you’ll get them.”

“I didn’t mean—” His voice faltered. His chest burned.

“Really?” she said lightly. “I hadn’t noticed.” Cyrene's tone returned to be sweet but her every word still dripped with pain. “You have already opened Pandora's box, you can't undo that. The least you can do is to look at its contents.”

“Cyrene I don't really think I can have this conversation—” He could feel his body going numb again, and his sight blurring. 

“Is this too much to you?” She asked. “This is what war does. You don't get to look away.”

Oxygen was escaping him, his head was spinning. Clearly he should have listened to Hyacine and rested, not actively look for more stress. Was this right or wrong? Mydei didn't know anymore.

“I can handle it— It's just. I think I—” He pressed a hand against his chest, trying to ground himself, but his body wouldn’t obey. His breaths came shallow, broken, each one thinner than the last. Words dissolved before they could leave his mouth. Darkness pressed in from the edges of his vision. “I'm not okay—”

The world collapsed into black.

The fall was heavier in sound than in weight; Mydei slumped sideways, his golden eyes rolling back before everything shut down.

For a heartbeat, Cyrene froze. Her anger, her sarcasm, her brittle mask—all of it crumbled in a single breath.

“Oh no—” She was at his side in an instant, her hands trembling as they found his wrist, his throat. The pulse was there, faint but quick, too quick. Relief loosened the tight coil in her chest, though panic still clawed at her ribs. “Don’t do this to me, Mydei… don’t.”

She dragged a cushion under his head, loosened the buttons at his collar, murmuring apologies as though he could hear them. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like that… I’m sorry, I’m sorry—this is my fault.”

Time blurred until his breathing evened out. Only then did she sink back against the sofa, wiping at her face with the back of her sleeve.

When his lashes flickered and he groaned faintly, she straightened at once. “Easy—don’t move,” she whispered. Her voice shook, but the bitterness from earlier was gone, replaced with soft urgency.

Mydei’s eyes half-opened, dazed and ashamed. He tried to sit, but his body betrayed him, slumping back against the cushion.

“You fainted,” Cyrene said quickly, forestalling whatever excuse he might try. “You scared me half to death.”

“I—” His throat was raw, the words broken. “Sorry.”

Her lips pressed thin, guilt flashing again. “No. I’m the one who should apologize. I lashed out at you when all you wanted was answers. That wasn’t fair.”

He blinked at her, confusion breaking through his fatigue.

Cyrene sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “You and I… we’re both too close to Phainon to keep fighting each other. Whatever’s happening, he wouldn’t want that. And I don’t want that either.”

Silence lingered, heavier now but not sharp like before—just tired, fragile.

For the first time since stepping into her apartment, Mydei felt the tension loosen slightly. Not trust, not yet, but something closer to common ground.

“Then let’s start anew.” He managed to say. “No more pointing fingers at each other.”

Her smile was small, wobbly, but genuine. “Yeah. No more masks. For him.”

He dragged himself up, and awkwardly pointed at her discarded prosthetic on the floor. “Don't you need that?”

Her face burned red. “I’m sorry—that was unsightly.” Shame finally caught up with her as she reattached the limb. Mydei kept his gaze fixed on the side, trying to give her some privacy as he couldn't move yet, his head still felt light. “Mydeimos… are you sick?”

“I would hardly call being pregnant a sickness” He chuckled lightly, as he watched Cyrene's eyes go comically wide and his mouth fall open. It was a slight revenge on the info dump he just faced previously. “I'm just anemic, that's all.”

“Y-You are pregnant?” The pink-haired girl pointed at his belly with a trembling finger, clearly still in shock.

He popped a pomegranate seed into his mouth. “Yes.”

“With Phai’s child?”

“Also, yes.”

Cyrene seemingly was going through an epiphany as she looked at him. The next thing he knew, she barreled into him, nearly toppling the sofa. “I’m so happy to hear this!” Her words tumbled out like fireworks. “I promise I’ll be the best aunt that child could dream of!”

He chuckled, though winded by her momentum. “You’d better get in line. Once everyone finds out, it’ll be a competition.”

“Wait, so I’m the first to know?” she asked, wide-eyed.

He shook his head.

“Who beat me?!”

“My mother.”

Cyrene deflated, then laughed. “Touchè,” she smiled. “The queen deserves to know the news first.” She nestled beside him with a dreamy sigh. “Damn it, Phainon—he should have introduced us ages ago!” She complained, puffing her cheeks in feigned annoyance. ““Tell me, Mydeimos,” she said after a pause, eyes soft, “do you think I’ll ever get to meet your friends… your parents?”

“I don't see why you wouldn’t.” 

Her expression was gentle, a smile full of quiet ache. “I see.” For a moment, silence stretched. Then she murmured, “Phainon is really stupid.” A sly grin tugged at her lips. “And you’re not much better. Truly, a match made in heaven.”

Mydei blinked in disbelief. “Excuse me—, what?!”

“You two cowards keep pushing everyone away in your pursuit to protect each other, and that includes yourselves.” She rubbed her temple as if she was a weary parent. “You two are hurting, and hurting each other because you can't communicate properly.”

He frowned. “I've been clear—”

“No,” she cut him gently. “You keep just as many secrets as he does. But maybe it’s time you knew one of his.” She laced her fingers through his, her grip warm, grounding. “Let me tell you a little bit of Phainon's past… He has suffered a lot, and he thinks of me as his savior when I think it's actually the opposite. After all, I escaped that hell first…”

“You don't have to tell me anything if you don't feel comfortable sharing.” Golden eyes fixed on the floor, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know either. Sometimes it's better to let things be.

“I think you deserve to know why this Flame Reaver exists, for both your and Phainon's sake.” Cyrene smiled warmly. “Well, this story begins a long time ago, when Phainon and I were just young teenagers. “Do you know where Phainon and I come from?”

“Aedes Elysiae.” Hid answer was flat.

She smiled faintly. “Correct. Have you ever been there?”

“No.”

“You would’ve loved it.” Her voice softened, eyes going distant. “Each month we held a fair where the farmers brought their best harvests. The air always smelled of roasted chestnuts and honey bread. Children ran with flower crowns, and music never stopped until dawn. Phainon—he’d have dragged you everywhere, bragging that he’d caught the handsomest boy alive.” A little laugh broke on her lips, fragile as glass.

Mydei tilted his head. Something in her tone unsettled him. “We can still do that someday.”

Her smile wavered. Slowly, she shook her head. “No, Mydei. You can’t.”

A hollow pause.

“Aedes Elysiae… doesn’t exist anymore.” Her voice trembled, but she pressed on. “At first it was just abandoned, turned into a ghost town. Then the government tore down what little remained—factories were easier to build on our graves.”

His brows knitted. “So your people migrated elsewhere—”

“No.” Her gaze fixed on some faraway place he couldn’t follow. “Everyone died.”

A long silence. She finally looked at him, her smile brittle, breaking. “It’s just Phainon and me left.”

Once upon a time there was a naive and kind hearted farmer town that no one really paid attention to. A small place on the side of an almost always empty road, nothing impressive. And like in every small town everyone knew each other, and many young adults left the town to pursue a better future in the city. The population was small and declining naturally, most people living there were already old.

Cyrene was barely fourteen when she found a thirsty and lost man at the town outskirts. Curiosity took the best of her and she waltzed closer, trying to offer aid to the man, they began talking, suddenly she realized why the saying went “Curiosity killed the cat.” Scared, she began to make up many excuses to deny help to that man, until the man collapsed unconscious on top of her. 

Scared, she called for help. 

When adults arrived they helped the man and the pink haired girl left without giving any explanation— or that’s what they said—. Phainon as many others wondered why the always sweet and cheerful Cyrene had become more silent and avoided going out as often as usual.

The man named Lygus was a researcher and came to the town to offer a new vaccine to prevent a virus —that he claimed had been expanding from the city— from causing any harm to the people from small towns. Sensing no harm coming from the man, Phainon's parents were the ones who welcomed into their house until the man finished his vaccination campaign.

Naively, Phainon tried to become friends with the man. The young boy was smart and kind, perhaps too kind, so he ended up being something similar to an assistant for Lygus. His parents felt proud of their son because if the man was who said he was, their boy might end up winning a scholarship or a good future outside the town.

Nobody seemed to notice that Lygus had become obsessed with Phainon's innocence, but Cyrene. She began to interrupt their teaching sessions with flimsy excuses each time, dragging Phainon around with a feigned air of innocence. Phainon didn't notice, yet Lygus caught on to her intentions right away, that was how she became another of his fixations.

The knowledge and the obliviousness. Two sides of the same coin.

“What have you been learning with Lygus?” One day she dared to ask, Phainon giggled and looked away. Cyrene did not like that, her calm expression faltered into one of distaste. Luckily, her white haired friend didn't seem to realize the shift in her demeanor. “You can't tell me? Ow, Phai! That 's so mean!”

“Mr. Lygus said I must keep it a secret.” He answered, determined to keep his mouth shut.

“Oh my! It's something bad it's it?” Cyrene taunted.

“No!” He rushed to answer, and now it was her turn to giggle at his reaction. “I mean, you'll know soon. So why spoil the surprise?”

“C’mon, you can give me a hint!” She negotiated, and Phainon seemed to slowly become more open to share.

“It's going to make everyone happy!” He smiled and it hurt Cyrene to know that perhaps she was going to be the one to ruin his happiness.

Against all reason, she decided not to tell anything bad about Lygus. Not yet, he didn't want to ruin that for him. She just managed to tell him that he could tell her anything and that whatever it happened he could always count on her.

The young boy just looked at her weirdly, but agreed nonetheless. 

A week after someone fell sick from that “virus”, and it was about time stepped into the scene with his “vaccines”. Phainon very proudly was the one who vaccinated his parents and most of the people in the town, his natural charm eased many into complying while many refused when Lygus tried to do it.

Just Cyrene refused.

A week later Phainon and she were the only ones healthy in town. Phainon had been vaccinated too, and he couldn't understand why he was the only one fine but everyone else was sick, so sick that they could even stand or eat. He kept taking care of his parents, while Lygus “desperately” helped many other people.

Cyrene convinced her parents to leave the town, to go to an actual hospital. As they were about to leave, their car suddenly broke down and they had an accident. Given how weak they were due to the “illness” they didn't survive. Cyrene was the only survivor, no other relatives that could take care of her. She was alone at her parents funeral, which was just attended by her, Phainon and… Lygus.

She broke down crying, screaming and hitting the floor as if it would bring her parents back. 

Phainon hugged her and she cried louder, clinging to him as if he was going to disappear from her life too.

The world had just ended for her, and she thought nothing worse could happen. 

She was sorely mistaken.

While Phainon tried to comfort her, she saw no reason to keep hiding the truth for any longer. 

“Phainon, we must run away. Lygus is the one who started this hell. W-We can't stay here.” He shook his head, looking at her as if she had gone insane, her blue eyes shone with hurt, her gaze fixed on Lygus who feigned a grimace at her words. “Please! Phainon Khaslana listen to me! Let's run away!”

“Cyrene, I know this is hard for all of us. But— Mr. Lygus has been just helping us—”

She smacked him.

“P-Phainon… That man is insane. There's no virus outside! He's testing his own virus on us! He told me he was searching for animals to test his virus in.” Her voice broke in a painful sob. “At first, I thought he was talking about our cattle, and it was still wrong for me. I never thought we would be the animals he spoke of!”

There was distrust on his eyes, and Cyrene could feel her heart break at that gaze directed to her.

“Cyrene, if what you say is true what you didn't say anything before?” Phainon asked with wariness in his voice.

“I told them! No one believed me! He then told me that if someone did they did they would die!” She rubbed her face harshly as if it could make the desperation she felt disappear. “And see where it brought us! My parents believed me and now they're dead!” 

A low dark chuckle interrupted her.

“You're relating two events that aren't connected to each other.” Lygus gave her a small, condescending smile that made her blood boil. “You can't blame me for an unfortunate accident.”

Then it clicked in her head in a way that was too painful to admit.

She broke from Phainon's embrace and launched herself at the man standing nearby. She scratched, bit, yelled and hit him while Phainon tried to pry her off him to no avail.

“You killed them!!” She yelled, her voice hoarse and broken from all the pain she felt. It wasn't fair, it was all her fault. Her fault. She should have said something sooner. She could have saved everyone, but she didn't. There was just Phainon and her left. “You monster! You killed everyone! You—”

Lygus finally snapped at her outburst placing a forceful hand on top of her mouth and completely pinning her on the ground, Phainon had been forced to the side on that movement as he stared at the scene frozen in shock. “Mr. Lygus, what—”

“Stop yelling and whining like a little bitch, oh sweet Cyrene.” Her muffled cries could still be heard despite the warnings. “You could have saved everyone but you didn't, and you know that. Now you're blaming me, when I'm merely an observer.” Cyrene kept crying and trying to break free from his grasp. With the same hand that was forcefully covering her mouth, he harshly lifted her head and smashed it against the floor. Blood  slowly pooled around her head and her gaze was unfocused, not being able to yell anymore. Just struggling to breathe. “Their blood is on your hands, and you still blame me. That 's not good.”

Phainon in horror tried to run away from the scene, for once, listening to Cyrene's desperate pleas. The door was locked from outside, they were on the second floor. He broke a window and began crying out for help.

But nobody came.

It was logical, everyone was sick. Phainon looked at his bloodied hands and remembered how many people he vaccinated, oblivious to Lygus' true goal. He too had blood in his hands, but why wasn't he sick too?

He turned around to see Cyrene laying unconscious on the floor. With seemingly no better option, he decided to jump. It wasn't that high after all.

He landed on his left side brushing his face and breaking his arm, he screamed in agony as blood began to drip from the multiple wounds and cuts on his body. Crimson clouded his view while he struggled to remain conscious and look for help.

Phainon’s vision swam, every breath tearing fire through his ribs. He crawled, dragging himself with his good arm, leaving a trail of blood and glass behind him. “Help!” His cracked voice broke against the night. “Somebody—please!”

But there was no answer.

The houses around him glowed faintly thanks to the street lights, but the windows were dark. No shapes moved. No voices called back. The town was silent, still as a graveyard.

Because that was what it was now.

He sobbed, biting his lip so hard it bled, refusing to believe it. “No… no, they can’t all be…” He thought of his mother, his father, smiling with pride as he held the syringe. His stomach lurched. I did this. I killed them.

A shadow fell over him.

“Poor little dove,” Lygus’ voice crooned, almost gentle. “Broken wings don’t carry you far.”

Phainon twisted around, dragging himself backward through the dirt, but his broken arm betrayed him, making him howl. Lygus descended the steps of the house slowly, carrying Cyrene’s limp body over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. Her hair, pink and matted with blood, dangled lifelessly, brushing against his coat.

“Cyrene!” Phainon cried, reaching out, but his vision blurred with tears.

“She’ll live,” Lygus said with clinical detachment, his hand stroking her hair almost tenderly. “But she’s too fragile. Too loud.” His gaze shifted back to Phainon, and his lips curved in something between reverence and hunger. “You, though… you’re perfect.”

Phainon’s breath hitched, his good arm trembling as he pushed himself back.

“Do you know why you’re still breathing?” Lygus crouched down, his words almost intimate, as though he was confiding a secret. “Because you took my gift, and your body embraced it. No fever. No weakness. Not even a tremor. You’re stronger than all of them. Stronger than her.” He tilted his head toward Cyrene, dismissive. “You were chosen.”

“Don’t touch her!” His cry cracked, his body trembling with useless rage.

“Oh, but I already have. And you, little Phainon… you’ll beg for me to do the same. Because you’ll realize soon enough, I’m all you have left.”

Phainon recoiled, shaking. “Stay away from me!”

Lygus’ smile stretched wider, deranged and adoring all at once. “Why would I ever stay away? You’re mine now. Mine to mold, mine to study, mine to perfect.”

Phainon tried to crawl again, desperate, but a boot crushed down on his broken arm. His scream shattered the quiet night. Phainon thrashed, but it was pathetic—half-conscious, bloodied, sobbing.

From his shoulder, Cyrene stirred weakly, her voice a ghost. “P-Phai… run…”

“I—I tried…” His voice broke, high and small, nothing like his usual bright chatter. He hated himself for it, hated how weak he sounded. “I’m sorry, Cyrene… I’m sorry…”

Lygus chuckled, low and satisfied, tightening his grip on both children. “Run? Where would you run? The world doesn’t want you. It doesn’t even know you exist.” He began dragging Phainon back toward the dark house, Cyrene slung like a rag doll against him. “But I want you. That’s what matters.”

And with Cyrene limp in one arm and Phainon crushed beneath his heel, Lygus dragged them both away, pushing them into the trunk of Phainon's parents car, as if they were just stuff.

The town remained silent, as if it had already buried them.

Hell began after that heinous night. While they were both unconscious in the car trunk, Lygus administered stronger dosages of the virus on them. The goal had been to kill Cyrene in front of Phainon—tear the last light out of his life—but it turned out that the girl was just as resilient.

For Lygus, it was a revelation. Two miracles. Two perfect specimens. He spoke of them like blessings from a higher power. He smiled at their pain, calling it illumination.

They could tell they were kept underground, as all the stairs and hallways just went up and never down. Their life as test subjects was horrible, at first they were kept together and it helped them not to lose their minds. Talking and socializing between each other was the only relief they had.

At first it was just tests of the vaccine, and well, observations of their effects.

Soon enough the tests evolved into physical torture, the virus injected into them made them physically stronger to many illnesses and enhanced their recovery… Physically. Funny enough, the stronger the vaccine turned the stronger they got, to the point it was needed to keep them restrained. The side effects also got stronger too— hallucinations that became too vivid to the point they were likely to hurt each other or themselves.

Phainon turned violent under the hallucinations, hurling himself at guards, chains, even his own skin. Cyrene curled inward, trembling, hiding from shadows that weren’t there. A few bindings could contain her—prevent her from ending her own life—. But not him.

Watching this scenario, Cyrene would force a sweet and charming smile on her trembling lips, her body shaking with fear, and would offer herself in Phainon’s place again and again.

Phainon, torn between guilt and relief, could never forgive himself for secretly thanking her. 

Lygus on the other hand, appreciated Cyrene's collaboration, even if it was motivated by her overwhelming sense of guilt, it made things easier for him and it was easier to observe just one subject. Phainon then became the back up subject.

Lygus adored it. Adored her compliance, adored his rage. Adored the way they completed each other. 

The white-haired teenager eventually couldn't stand watching Cyrene wither away for his sake, and asked to help, somehow, to lessen the burden placed on Cyrene's shoulders. Soon enough he found himself in the awful position of researcher… The executioner of his friend’s torture. 

At the beginning they thought about it as a blessing in disguise. He tried to lessen the effects, to pretend he did what he was ordered, injecting Cyrene with saline solution instead of the actual thing. At first it seemed to work—they believed they could outsmart the people in that lab—, but a lie like that was found rather quickly, ending up with the two of them being pulled apart.

With no other option, Phainon continued to be the researcher until Cyrene's body began to show the first symptoms of infection. He snapped, he couldn't be the cause of Cyrene's death, he couldn't lose her, she was everything he had left.

The Flame Reaver began there, he did everything in his power to search for a solution, for a chance to break free. He deleted the investigation process, stole data, while keeping everyone in his pocket. As he got more skilled, they planned on escaping together, Cyrene was too weak, her legs were thin and as if rotting on themselves, one of her legs had sepsis and made her scream in pain each time she put her weight on that leg. Phainon would need to carry her outside, but then the only thing that mattered was to seize the opportunity to flee.

It was in the dead of winter when they finally dared to set their plan in motion. Snow buried every path, breath turned to knives in their throats—outside was no safer than the cell, yet it was still better than that, anything was better. It would slow their captors, too, and for once, the world seemed to tilt ever so slightly in their favor. 

Phainon had secured information of a high-level meeting, the kind of chance that would never come again. Cyrene never asked how. She didn’t need to. The boy who returned to her was not the same one who had left—his eyes hollowed, his hands trembling when he thought she wasn’t watching, his smile empty. Whatever he had bartered for that knowledge, it wasn’t just words. And yet, he clung to it with a desperate light, whispering that once the meeting began, they could slip away, and the snow would swallow their footprints before anyone thought to follow. 

Hope, brittle as glass, was the only thing holding them together.

As expected it shattered quickly and evaporated like water between fingers.

While they were escaping, the snow slowed them down more than what they initially expected. Their goal was to reach the main road and to pray someone could aid them. The snow became their main enemy, Phainon would certainly be able to escape faster without carrying Cyrene on his back, but he stubbornly kept carrying the only person he had left. The pink-haired girl was aware of this too. 

They could already hear footsteps behind them, Phainon decided that perhaps hiding in the nearby forest was the best idea they could try at the moment, yet it would oppose completely to their initial plan, their bodies were already shivering too much from the lack of proper clothing, hiding would only result in hypothermia and their death.

The worst part was that they did really consider that option.

Nevertheless, having already sacrificed so much, giving up was not an option anymore.

“Cyrene stop moving like that.” Phainon struggled to keep his hold on her legs. “Stop it.”

“Leave me.” She said finally, pushing her upper half and torso back, making them both fall into the snow.

Phainon tried to pull her back up immediately, his breaths ragged, hot steam clouding the freezing air. “Don’t—don’t say that. I’m not leaving you. We’re almost there—” His voice faltered when he saw her lips, blue and bloodied from the cold, her eyes already glazing. He couldn’t finish the lie.

“Almost?” Cyrene laughed, a broken, breathless sound that stabbed him deeper than the cold. Her lips were blue, blood flecking at the corners when she coughed. “Phainon, look at me. I can’t feel my legs anymore. You’ll die carrying dead weight.”

“You’re not dead weight!” he roared, voice trembling with a boy’s helpless fury. “You’re—you’re my only—” His throat closed, the words choking before they could form. He pressed his forehead to hers, shaking, snow stinging at their lashes.

She reached up, her trembling fingers brushing his hands—the hands that had tortured her because Lygus made him. The hands she never once blamed. “Then don’t let them take both of us. Live. For me.”

“Cyrene—please—”

Her eyes softened with that same gentleness she always carried, even shattered as she was. “Go.”

When he didn’t move, she shoved him with what little strength she had left, the snow swallowing her small body as she sank deeper into the cold. Phainon stumbled forward, caught between rage and despair, before the pounding of boots snapped his decision. He ran, each step like betrayal, each breath a scream he couldn’t let out.

He didn’t get far. A shadow loomed, the snow crunching under deliberate, measured steps. Lygus. His gaze swept the white expanse, and for a heartbeat, Phainon’s chest sparked with hope—maybe he hadn’t seen her. Maybe—

But the man’s eyes slid over Cyrene’s collapsed body, lingered for the briefest, contemptuous moment, and then moved on. “Broken things aren’t worth carrying,” he muttered, almost to himself, before signaling the guards to seize Phainon.

So when the guards seized him, wrenching his arms behind his back, he only lowered his head. He let the snow burn his knees as they forced him down, letting the ropes dig into his skin. His silence was the only shield he could give her.

Inside, he was breaking apart, the hollow fire of despair devouring him whole. But he never looked back, not once, even as they dragged him away. Because if he saw her again—if he saw how fragile, how close to gone she was—he would not have the strength to keep his promise.

In the silence that followed, Cyrene lay half-buried in the snow. Her breaths came shallow, her body shuddering weakly. Forgotten. Discarded.

And that should have been her grave.

But fate had other plans. Someone else, wandering lost through the storm, stumbled across her. A stranger who should never have been there, who bent down and lifted what was left of her into their arms.

Cyrene tried her best to spare him from the most gruesome details of her shared past with Phainon, giving Mydei a very summarized version of the events not to trigger another incident as the one from moments prior.

Even with Cyrene’s careful omissions, Mydeimos still looked stricken. The color had drained from his face, and his grip on her hand tightened—not steady, but trembling, as if he was the one who needed anchoring. She almost laughed at the irony.

““Frostbite is a nasty thing,” she muttered, a pout tugging at her lips as though she hadn’t just confessed the most disturbing story of all time. “My leg was already beyond saving, but it made the remaining one look not cute at all.”

Her eyes flickered to him, glassy with something heavier than humor, and she sighed.

“Once I recovered I went back looking for Phainon, but everything was empty.” Her lips pressed into a sad smile. “It took me almost a year and a half to find him. He had run away on his own after shattering all the investigation they did.” she sighed. “When we finally met… he thought I was a ghost.” A sad curve of lips that wasn’t quite a smile. “After everything, we decided to move together and… Well, Phainon kept working in the shadows as the hacker known as the Flame Reaver.”

“If he destroyed it all, why keep doing it?” Mydei asked, voice hushed, as though afraid of breaking her further.

“Because he had no choice, escaping the way he did left a trail. So Lygus could follow him if he wasn't careful. We know we won't be able to stop him— but we can at least try to slow down that project until it eventually collapses on itself.” She sighed tired, the conversation had been draining enough. “Phainon would obviously break down if Lygus mentions my name, it means that all what Phai had been doing all these years had been for naught. I was dead for that man, and it should have stayed that way.”

Mydei didn't know what to say to all these revelations, his life had been peaceful enough to the point that he wasn't able to phantom how these two people kept going so fiercely towards a tomorrow. How they were able to smile despite it all.

Cyrene clapped her hands trying to dispel the tense atmosphere around them.“Anyway! You want details on that project, Phainon’s your guy.”

Mydei forced a smile, though it wavered at the corners. He knew she was holding herself together for his sake. “I guess, I can't exactly ask him right now.” He meant that he didn't have a way to contact Phainon.

Cyrene understood clearly, but she decided not to give him a straight answer.

“I know,” she agreed. “I'll try to contact him and make him drag his ass back to you.”

Mydei let out a slow breath, trying to steady himself. His hand lingered over hers, thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles as if that simple contact could keep either of them from unraveling. He wanted to say something—anything that might ease the ache in her voice—but no words felt enough.

Instead, he reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and, awkwardly, settled it over her lap. Cyrene blinked at him, then let out a soft laugh, brittle at the edges.

“Sweetheart,” she teased, voice cracking only slightly, “you look like you’re the one about to faint, and you’re fussing over me?”

“I…” He faltered, cheeks warming with embarrassment. “I just don’t want you to get cold.”

Her laughter softened, melting into something warmer. “You really are a kind one, aren’t you? Phai’s really lucky.” She leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment as if to let herself rest in that fleeting gentleness.

But then she opened them again, and there was something heavier in her gaze. “Phainon will come back for you,” she said quietly. “He always does. But…” Her lips pressed together before she forced the words out. “You should know—every time he claws his way back, there’s a price. Something he never talks about. And the truth is…” she hesitated, eyes flicking away, “I’m not sure how much more of himself he can afford to lose.”

The words sank into Mydei like cold water. He swallowed hard, fingers tightening unconsciously around hers.

“You’re saying he’s… already breaking.”

“I’m saying he’s been breaking for years.” Her voice was steady, but her hand trembled beneath his. “So when he stands in front of you, smiling like nothing can touch him—don’t believe it too quickly.”

Mydei felt his chest tighten, a mix of fear and something more fragile—an ache for someone he thought he knew and understood, but he never did.

His hands fell to his abdomen, knowing that there was a life they both created and now, it seemed as the last of his priorities. 

“If you want to keep that baby safe, it’s better that you give up—”

“There's no word for ‘giving up’ in the Kremnoan language.” He said firmly, with a resolve that he didn't know he possessed. Cyrene just smiled at him with such tenderness that he didn't feel he deserved. 

“Thank you Mydeimos.” She said, “ I'm glad Phainon found someone like you in his life, so he doesn't end up making the same mistakes I did.”

“I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how he keeps going after knowing all of these.”

“You don't need to.” She replied, her tone calm and her voice gentle. “Just support him when he's about to fall apart.”

Mydei sat with her words a moment longer, as if letting them sink into his bones. Support him when he’s about to fall apart. The thought alone felt overwhelming, yet… comforting too. A clear, simple truth among all the chaos.

Cyrene reached out, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve before resting her hand briefly on his shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think,” she said with a lopsided smile. “Stubborn too—Kremnoan to the core.”

That earned the faintest laugh from him, almost shy, but real. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” she assured him warmly. 

Mydei rose reluctantly, pulling his coat around himself. He glanced at her again, worried she looked so delicate in the dim light of her apartment, but she caught the look and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t stare at me like that, Mydeimos,” she teased softly. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“I know,” he admitted, lips tugging into the barest smile. “I still worry.”

“Good,” she replied, her smile turning mischievous. “Worry about Phainon that much too. He hates it, but he needs it.”

That time he laughed outright, short but warm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

When he moved toward the door, Cyrene followed, and before he could step into the hall, she surprised him by pulling him into a light hug. It was brief but full of quiet strength.

“You’re not alone in this,” she whispered near his ear. “Neither of you are.”

Mydei froze, then slowly returned the embrace, holding her gently. “Thank you,” he murmured, voice thick. “For trusting me.”

They pulled apart, and Cyrene gave him a soft wave, standing in the doorway as he left. Mydei walked down the hall with a small, fragile smile tugging at his lips, the weight in his chest eased just enough by the warmth of her words.

“Wait!” He heard Cyrene's voice calling behind him, loud footsteps followed. She gasped for air, as she very evidently had run all the floors down in a haste. “Take these with you!”

She handed him a bag full of pomegranates, the only thing she had to offer and she selflessly gifted him. Mydei smiled at her gesture.

“Thank you again, Cyrene.” He accepted the bag and she smiled proudly as he hadn't refused to accept her gift.

“The next time you visit, warn a girl a little—” she giggled. “I’ll have something better prepared.”

He smiled. A next time, huh? “What can be better than pomegranates?”

“I don't know, hah maybe, Golden Honey cakes?” He nodded enthusiastically, as if he had heard the idea of the century. 

It seemed that his own child was against the idea, as his stomach churned in discomfort at the mere idea of tasting honey or syrup. 

“It seems that someone else doesn't share our opinion,” he pointed at his mid-section, making Cyrene giggle and press a finger against her own lips, gesturing him not to outright reveal his situation. 

Mydei understood her message, it wasn't safe outside her apartment to have a conversation like that. 

They bid each other a brief goodbye before parting ways. Once Mydei sat in his car, silence pressed in on him like a second skin. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the steering wheel, and let out a shuddering breath that sounded far too much like a sob.

This was a lot to process, he can somewhat understand why Phainon had chosen to remain silent about his past. A lie of omission, it seemed.

He did try to explain himself, his mind supplied but it also reminded him that the situation wasn't ideal and that Phainon was likely just bending under sheer pressure. Mydei couldn't understand what Phainon was trying to do right now. It was as Cyrene said: they can't exactly stop Lygus and his project, just slow it down until the wait becomes too much and end up getting buried in the sands of time, just like a nightmare.

Was he trying to help Cyrene? Maybe.

Was he trying to save everyone? Likely.

Sadly, Phainon’s definition of “everyone” never once included himself.

Phainon was risking his life, and soon everyone else's, like Aglaea said if he's the target, everyone else also is. It was just a matter of time.

Suddenly an awful thought took upon his mind, making him smile bitterly.

Phainon puts everyone's safety first and not his own. Everyone's happiness was on top of his, but for someone like Mydei who loved Phainon so dearly also meant that he too wanted his happiness over his, his selflessness was just…

Sugarcoated misery.

Mydei’s hands curled tight around the steering wheel, knuckles white. He wanted—no, he needed—to be loved, to be chosen, to be cherished. But not like this.

Never like this.

Selfishly he wanted Phainon to choose his own happiness first, to choose him over whatever revenge he was set on, him to forget about his past and instead look at the future he still has ahead, to look at him and their unborn child and make them his new beginning. The white-haired man won't be able to change a thing, he could choose to ignore that pain and instead focus on the future—

Choose himself.

Choose him.

Choose their family.

Focus on the tomorrow,

Choose the bliss of ignorance.

Choose his happiness.

Focus on his own desires.

Focus on what he has.

Focus on who he has.

But—

The Phainon he loves is not capable of being selfish, to ignore someone else's pain, to choose oblivion over facing the truth. No matter how painful it was. 

Mydei let out a strangled sound, half-laugh, half-sob, as the realization carved its way deeper into him.

Mydeimos too, couldn't stop caring about everyone else. Couldn't stop loving even if  it was painful.

And Gods… Love was such a cruel thing.

They were truly a match made in heaven, and each step just dragged them closer to hell.

Chapter Text

Just because I’m alive,

Why do you smile so much?

Sometimes silence turns out to be louder than words.

It ends up attracting a lot of unwanted attention, he realized.

But in retrospective, what did he expect? A missing person will always be the center of attention. That's no way to remove oneself from the narrative. He knows, but there was no other option.

Lygus waltzing back in his life like nothing happened was just the tip of the iceberg. That man had been trying to exercise power over him for years but time and time again he had managed to keep him at bay… Or so he thought.

He had been delaying Irontomb by destruction of huge amounts of data and twisting confidential information for years, Phainon foolishly believed he had the upper hand. Slowly he began to open up again, to rebuild his life, try not to focus solely on his pain and finally try to live for himself. He got new friends that he cherishes a lot, he keeps in touch with Cyrene and has a very good paying job. And he’s got—

Mydeimos, his handsome, strong, hot, kind, gentle, firm, precious, adorable, nice, loyal, perfect boyfriend.

He met the blonde businessman in some inauguration party he was forced to attend as a model, smiling and talking about all the positive stuff that his company does while promoting a product he couldn't care less about. He politely excused himself to the bathroom to drink a whole bottle of wine he stole from some dining cart that was forgotten in the hallway towards the dark corner of the event hall.

Phainon thought he was genius for this plan, he could get drunk to keep smiling for the rest of the night until his agency dragged him with them so he doesn't ruin their image by being kind of a happy and flirty drunk. Mydei was in that bathroom too, and oh my—. 

He didn't need the alcohol to feel giddy and excited once he laid his eyes on the man. The blonde on the other hand frowned at his admittedly stupid face. The model offered him a drink, Mydei accepted albeit hesitantingly.

Soon enough the initially polite and friendly exchange of liquor, led to flirty remarks, to heated looks and lingering touches, one thing led to another and they, well, they ended up…

Sleeping next to each other in a couple of plastic chairs. 

Neither of them could handle alcohol properly, at some point they weren't conscious of their actions yet their competitive nature decided to show up and they started a drinking contest between the two of them that was lost before it even began. 

Fatigue and sleepiness took over them soon enough, barely managing to sit down to “keep the party going” with some light conversation between each other that just ended with them laughing too loudly at whatever the other said, their conversation didn't make sense, they could be flirting one moment and at the other discussing the existence itself. Eventually they ended up falling asleep against each other in the chairs they were sitting in.

Castorice, who ended up being a common friend between the two of them did try to wake them up to make them go home but they didn't wake up even when the event hall began to empty. She gave up on them, just dragging a couple of chairs in front of them and at their sides, so they wouldn't fall straight to the floor. She just left a note saying “Tomorrow at 8:00 the cleaning staff is going to open the door. I'm sorry guys.”

No matter how thoughtful Castorice's gesture was, once they startled awake they ended up kicking the chairs, breaking a couple and falling on their asses straight to the floor and making a further mess from the already messy event hall.

The hangover was awful, both of their phones had died over the night but it didn't take a genius to know they had made a show of themselves last night and once their phones were charged and turned on, the amount of notifications would be insane.

“At least I don't have to deal with more advertisements for a couple of days.” Phainon tried to joke as they tried to make themselves presentables and salvage some of their dignity —that was none remaining— from the gossip before the cleaning staff arrived.

“Sure.” Mydei scoffed with a sarcastic smile on his lips.

“Mr. Mydeimos, have you ever heard that there's no bad advertisement, just advertisement?” He tried with a sly smile on his face, the blonde on the other hand just frowned at his words.

“Don't call me that—” Phainon parted his lips about to ask what he meant by that but the young business man beat him to it. “Mr. Mydeimos I mean. You were calling me Mydei last night, and I like that one more.”

Phainon felt heat rushing to his cheeks, he could blame it on the remains of alcohol still on his system. He chuckled awkwardly.

“Then Mydei is it.” He smiled.

When they finally exited the event hall, the sun was making them wince as each of them walked to the parking lot to pick their cars, as they realized that they had parked next to each other in the now empty space. That made Phainon roll his eyes with fondness, that was a lot of coincidences lining up. They bid each other goodbye, promising to keep in contact.

Truth to be told, they didn't talk with each other in a long time, instead they kept running on each other almost everywhere. Be it at a company meeting, the gym, or even the grocery store. Before they realized they were closer and closer, and in what felt like an instant they ended up in a romantic relationship and living together. He even managed to meet Mydei's parents, at first Eurypon was against their relationship but as he saw his wife being so pleased to see their son with someone who saw the real him and made Mydeimos feel safe, he slowly began to relent and accept him in their family. A family Phainon also felt like his.

Everything had fallen into place so naturally with Mydei that it sometimes frightened him. Happiness wasn’t supposed to be this easy—not for him. Yet here it was: breakfasts that turned into laughter, evenings where silence felt like safety, a hand in his that anchored him more than chains ever could.

Mydei was the first person who made him believe he could want a future instead of just surviving. With him, even the old scars in his mind felt like they were fading. For the first time, Phainon dared to think he could leave the past behind.

Until one day, as he leaned over Mydei’s work computer, his heart froze. The file glowing on the screen bore a familiar insignia—sharp, clinical, unmistakable. Lygus.

The name alone was enough to make his breath catch. He swore he would never invade Mydei’s space, never let the paranoia that ruled his youth seep into his new life. But his fingers moved before his conscience could stop them, Phainon  deleted all the information the other sent on Mydei's email, with a heavy heart he quickly installed a remote controller to his computer and later he created a script that automatically detected the IP of the upcoming message and sent it right to the recycle bin and deleted instantly. 

His chest ached. It wasn’t just a file he deleted—it was a piece of Mydei’s trust.

He began to lie to his boyfriend, creating silly excuses with his supposed lack of skills with technology to keep installing and coding scripts that basically deleted all attempts of contact from Lygus to Mydeimos.

Lygus however, did not stop there.

Lies and secrets have short legs after all. Mydei got a new phone —which was a miracle because the other poor one almost begged to be put to rest, he would have congratulated Mydei for letting go of his old phone, really, but—, and Lygus had been trying to contact him with the pretence of striking a business deal.

When the model heard the name “Irontomb” his blood ran cold, he carefully masked his fear and rage with a thoughtful smile to reassure his boyfriend. Slowly pointing out reasons why it was a bad idea to accept such a proposal. Mydei clearly noticed that something was amiss, but he chalked it up to his own business skills.

Later that day, he implemented the coding back to Mydei's new phone but… It was already too late, Lygus already managed a way to contact Mydei over Phainon's firewall. Which ended up leading to the most awkward and nasty discussion he and Mydei ever had. They hurt each other and when he was about to actually confess the truth to his boyfriend —who clearly cared about him a little bit too much than he wanted to admit— Lygus barged into the office.

He didn't expect to face that man in flesh ever again, but when their eyes met a sudden numbness spread through his body. Too many contradicting feelings and he struggled to keep control in front of his boyfriend, the researcher knew he had the upper hand in that room. And Phainon hadn't felt so helpless for so long.

Soon enough the man directly taunted him, making him snap from his carefully constructed facade, raw fury that always boiled underneath rose to the surface so fast, exploding like a volcano. Before he realized he was beating the man into pulp on the floor.

Lygus mentioning Cyrene out of the blue just meant that all these years had been for nothing and that Phainon was still his favorite prey. And that everyone he loves was at risk, especially his boyfriend. If he remained close to him, Mydeimos would surely become one of the sacrificial lambs for Lygus' sick goals, just like Cyrene once was. 

So he took the most logical option: He disappeared.

Phainon kept checking on everyone once in a while, but his current goal was to finally put a stop on Lygus' plans. Cyrene was the only one who already figured that he had disappeared on his own accord and kept contact with him via burner phones or encrypted messages. The pink haired girl already suspected Lygus was aware of her existence once more, and took preventive actions towards him. 

Phainon just lent her a hand by blackmailing the police to actually do their job. Lygus had most authorities on his side, he knew that for a fact having seen politicians and many businessmen laugh and share their time with the man despite their tight schedules,while he was imprisoned.

He wanted to isolate Lygus from the world as he once did with Cyrene and him, but his plan soon came to an abrupt stop. 

Mydei ended up at the hospital. 

Phainon knew that he could easily connect himself to the camera feed from the hospital, but it would overstep many other boundaries he set with Mydeimos… Even if his heart ached to know what happened to his lover he decided to remain in the shadows watching from afar.

While Mydei was away, he received the notification of someone entering their apartment. It was too late when he saw Lygus' team raiding their apartment looking for clues of Phainon's plans. The devices there and as if they were running out of time they took all the devices with them, not without trashing the place and taking more than what was needed to make the apartment appear as if a burglar had broken in.

The only thing he could do was to delay Mydei's arrival to their shared apartment —he kept canceling his Uber requests to buy time— until no one remained there, it was the only attempt of protecting his boyfriend Phainon could do without blowing up his own location and intentions.

From the screen of his old computer he watched Mydei's face now paler and skinnier, twist with confusion and incredulity at their apartment state. He watched how his hands clutched around the paper bag he carried likely with medicines, knuckles turning white with strength.

“I'm so sorry…” he could only mutter as he watched Mydei break down through a screen and couldn't be there for him.

Mydei is strong, capable and independent. Yet, he too can reach a limit and need someone to rely on, and he felt as if he had no one by his side, making Phainon's heart ache with guilt. He watched the blonde call the police, to ask for their assistance and how he just got mocked and almost harassed in return. His blood boiled, but he could only watch how life seemed to wither away from those golden eyes he loved so much as he was the cause of such pain.

He watched Mydei through the grainy camera feed, every pixel a reminder of what he’d lost. The blonde sat in their ruined apartment, shoulders slumped, clutching a bag of medicine against his midsection like it was the last tether to sanity. Phainon whispered apologies to the empty room, pressing his hand against the cold glass of his monitor as if he could reach through it.

He almost typed a message—almost—but erased it before it could send. Protecting him meant staying away.

 Loving him meant being a ghost, perhaps it was better if Mydei just moved on and forgot him.

Mydei's health deteriorated each day, it was evident on his screen, he couldn't imagine how painful it would be to see it in person. He had moved and while Phainon already knew his new address—thanks to the modifications he made to Mydei's new phone—, he could not drop by and just had to keep watching through the security camera's feed. 

Bitterly he realized that his behavior resembled more of a stalker than to an actual boyfriend.

Alarms rose in his head when the blonde went all the way out to meet Cyrene. And after what seemed like a long conversation between the two of them, his friend contacted him and demanded that he’d meet Mydei soon.

“Why did you out me like that?” He asked annoyedly at the girl on the other side of the line.

“The little prince had already figured out your identity as the Flame Reaver and demanded answers.” She explained in a rather giddy tone that did not match the seriousness of the conversation for Phainon. “And I saw no problem filling the blanks.”

Phainon gripped the burner phone tighter, pacing the length of his cramped apartment. His reflection in the dark window sneered back at him, hollow-eyed and tired.

“You had no right,” he hissed. “Cyrene, do you understand what you’ve done? You’ve painted a target on his back.”

A quiet chuckle came from the other end, dry and humorless. “Oh, don’t insult me. That man’s had a target on his back ever since he met you. You know it. I know it. Pretending otherwise doesn’t make it vanish.”

His chest tightened. “If Lygus uses him to get to me—”

“If?” Cyrene cut in, her tone suddenly sharp. “Phainon, stop acting like you’re in control of this game. You never were. Lygus has always known how to find you. He doesn’t even have to try. And you know what? Mydei’s stronger than you think. He doesn’t need you to shield him with lies. He needs you to stand beside him.”

Phainon’s throat closed. The silence stretched long enough that she sighed softly, her voice gentler now.

“I know what you’re doing,” she murmured. “You think disappearing makes him safer. That if you cut yourself out of his life, you’ll save him from becoming… me. But you’re wrong. Mydei’s breaking without you. He’s carrying too much alone, and I won’t sit back and watch you two tear yourselves apart.”

His jaw trembled; he pressed his knuckles against his teeth to hold back the sound clawing up his throat.

“You think I want this?” he whispered. “Every day I have to stop myself from going to him, from… from holding him. Gods, Cyrene, I’m not strong enough to watch him suffer because of me.” Phainon pressed a hand to his forehead, muttering, “You don’t understand—if I go back now, it won’t just be me Lygus drags under. Mydei will be chained to it too.”

“Chained?” Cyrene repeated, a note of bitterness in her laugh. “Phai, he’s already bound himself to you. He doesn’t need your permission for that. You think silence keeps him safe, but it just leaves him… carrying the weight alone.”

Phainon stilled. Something about the way she said it made the room feel smaller, heavier.

“From what you’ve told me he’s always been too proud to admit it,” Cyrene went on, her voice softening, “but he looks thinner these days —unlike the photos on social media. Hollowed out, like he’s hiding something even from himself. Gods, sometimes I wonder how he’s still standing, with everything pressing down on him.”

A cold ache curled in Phainon’s gut. He turned away from the window, nails digging crescents into his palm. “You shouldn’t have told me that.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” Her reply came quick, clipped. “But maybe it’ll remind you that you’re not the only one bleeding for this. You love him, don’t you?”

He exhaled shakily, his voice dropping to a whisper. “…More than my own life.”

“Then act like it.”

The quiet that followed pressed in around him, suffocating. Outside, the night kept moving, unbothered, while inside Phainon felt hollowed out—like there was something vital slipping through his fingers, something he hadn’t yet named but couldn’t bear to lose.

It was the usual lunch break of the day, Mydei couldn’t bring himself to cook that often these days instead opting to eat at a nearby restaurant alone. He sat at his usual table at the corner of the establishment. Not really interested on the menu, he just opted to take the house recommendation and left himself wondering if he’ll manage to stomach whatever it was.

Soon he found himself staring down at a chicken salad that looked familiar, as if Phainon had gone and cooked it for him. He rolled his eyes with fondness at the memory, Phainon was obsessed with salads and just put chicken on it because of him, otherwise Mydei would tell him that he's no cow to be eating grass all time. 

How he missed the taste of those.

He grabbed a generous amount of salad on his fork and as it reached his mouth, his tongue exploded with the familiar taste of Phainon's food. Golden eyes widened, could it be that—? No. He shook his head slowly, gaze fixing on the dish before him.

It was impossible.

As he picked another bite again, familiar silent footsteps stood by his side, and before he could turn his neck around to see who was the owner of those, they beat him to it by speaking.

“Do you like it? I made it specially for you.”

Mydei choked at the sound of that voice. Coughing and spluttering as he tried to regain his breath as the other gently rubbed circles on his back to soothe him.

“Phai—!” A hand was placed on top of his mouth, as the white-haired man gestured with his free hand not to mention his name. “HKS!”

Mydeimos slapped Phainon's hand and stared at him angrily.

Phainon was completely dressed in dark clothing, very similar to the time he saw him act as the Flame Reaver. Only his eyes were visible this time. He was still on the run.

“I deserve it.” He muttered in a low chuckle, sitting in the empty chair in front of the blonde. “And I owe you many explanations.”

Mydei’s fork clattered against the plate, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. “You think you can just sit here like nothing happened? After vanishing—after leaving me—” his voice cracked, and he bit it back, lowering it to a harsh whisper, “—you owe me more than explanations.”

Phainon didn’t flinch. He leaned back, eyes shadowed above the mask of his clothes, as if the whole restaurant could collapse and he still wouldn’t move. “I know. But if I’d stayed, Lygus would’ve found you sooner. And then you’d…” He trailed off, his jaw locking, words dying on his tongue.

Something inside Mydei twisted, caught between fury and an ache that only grew sharper seeing him in front of him again. “You don’t get to decide for me. Not anymore.” He tried to sound steady, but his fingers trembled slightly as they tightened around his fork.

Phainon’s gaze flicked downward, catching it, catching the faint hollowness in Mydei’s cheeks, the tired slump in his shoulders. His chest burned with guilt. “You’ve lost weight.”

“And who's fault do you think it is?” Mydei sneered the words, mixed feelings bubbling in his chest.

“I'm sorry.”

“Apologizing won't undo the damage.” 

“I know it's just… What else can I do but apologize?” Phainon tried to reach to ruffle his own hair but stopped midway, remembering he couldn't mess with his appearance right then.

Mydeimos also caught on that act and annoyance just bubbled up again. Perhaps it was the hormones, but the simple gesture made his blood boil.

Why does he keep hiding?

“You can be honest with me for a start.” The blonde let go of his fork and instead crossed his arms on top of his chest. “Are you really sorry and going to make a change, or are you just facing me out of pity?”

At that Phainon found himself at a loss of words.

“I want to, but it's dangerous.”

Mydei snapped back.“Then don't look for me.”

“Mydei—”

“No.”

“Are you mad at me for leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Do you not want me in your life anymore?”

He remained silent.

Phainon's eyes dropped down, sadness pooled on them. He locked his eyes with the ring he had gifted Mydeimos for their anniversary… He knew that both of them longed for each other, perhaps it wasn't the moment for a reunion as Cyrene suggested.

He stood up with the intention to leave.

“Sit.” Mydei ordered with a tone that left no room for argument. “You haven't answered my question yet.”

“I'm not doing this for pity if it is what you want to know. However—” he played with the edges of a napkin in a nervous gesture. “I can't promise I will change my methods either.”

“See.” He paused, picking up the fork again to continue eating as if nothing happened. “It wasn't that hard to be honest.”

“Mydeimos, I—” 

“Look, I don't condone your actions, but I can't exactly blame you either…” He sighed.

Cipher had graciously explained him all the crimes associated with the Flame Reave, emphasizing the words “These are merely the only ones known, there's surely more.”

“I know that you've been through a lot and that you're scared of that man going against us but—” he paused, smiling as if he was talking to a child instead of an adult. “Don't you think it is way more stupid to split up and keep us in the dark? That's the kind of shit that gets you killed faster.”

“... You have a point.”

“And the fact you came here and even managed to bribe the staff into letting you cook this and give it to me as an apology token… Don't you think that's stupid too?”

“You're eating it nonetheless.” Phainon smiled, watching Mydei stuff his mouth with food as a man starved.

Perhaps Mydei just needed Phainon's proximity to calm his raging stomach from feeling that cold and empty pit of despair. Or perhaps he wanted that ridiculously salty chicken salad…

For a heartbeat, silence lingered between them, heavy with all the unsaid things. Mydei’s throat worked as though words pressed there but refused to come out. He stabbed another piece of chicken instead, muttering, “You really did make this, didn’t you? You and your salads.”

Phainon allowed himself a faint smile beneath his mask, though his eyes glimmered with something rawer. “I remembered you’d complain if there wasn’t at least chicken.”

The memory almost made Mydei smile back. Almost. But instead, his grip on the fork trembled again, his appetite faltering. The weight in his stomach was heavier than the meal itself, and he knew—he knew—that sooner or later, he’d have to tell him.

But not here. Not yet.

The scrape of Mydei’s fork against the plate grated louder than it should. His golden eyes fixed anywhere but on Phainon, jaw tight. “This isn’t the place,” he muttered finally, low enough not to draw attention. “Half the city would sell your shadow if they caught wind of you sitting here with me.”

Phainon inclined his head, accepting the reprimand. “I know. I shouldn’t have come.” His voice dropped softer. “But I couldn’t stay away.”

That admission lodged in Mydei’s chest like a splinter. He wanted to snarl at him for it, wanted to demand how dare he say that after everything—but the ache behind those pale eyes made the words die on his tongue.

Instead, he set the fork down with a sharp click and leaned back, crossing his arms. “Then what? You’re going to vanish again after dumping riddles and apologies on me?”

A muscle worked in Phainon’s jaw. His gloved hand curled into a fist against his thigh. “If I walk out that door, it won’t be because I want to.”

Mydei hated the flicker of hope those words lit in him. He shouldn’t want this man back—not when he’d torn him apart with absence. And yet… “Then stay,” he said before he could stop himself. The word came out like a command, not a plea.

Phainon went still, his breath catching. For the first time in years, the brittle distance in his posture cracked. “Name the place. I’ll come.”

The weight of the moment pressed down hard, and Mydei almost flinched beneath it. He dropped his gaze to the half-eaten salad, forcing his voice steady. “Tonight. The old warehouses from my company. No one goes there anymore and I'm the only one who has access. Less chance of being seen.”

Phainon nodded once, sharp and immediate. No hesitation. “I’ll be there.”

Mydei stabbed at another piece of chicken but didn’t raise it to his mouth this time. The food had turned to ash in his mouth anyway. His hand drifted unconsciously toward his stomach before he caught himself and shoved it back to the table, curling it into a fist.

If Phainon noticed, he said nothing. But his eyes lingered for a fraction too long.

“Finish your food,” he said finally, standing as if every second here was stolen. “You’ll need your strength.”

Mydei scoffed, biting back the thousand things he could’ve said. Instead he muttered, “Just don’t be late.”

Phainon’s eyes softened, his voice rough as gravel. “I wouldn’t dare.”

He slipped back into the shadows of the restaurant, leaving Mydei staring at the half-empty plate, appetite gone, heart thundering in ways he refused to name.

The wait until nighttime felt eternal, to say something. Since he saw Phainon in the afternoon Mydeimos didn't manage to get any work done, he might have gone home instead but anxiety would just get worse and worse if he left. He's surprised that he drove to their meeting point without crashing with the way his hands left a wet stain on the steering wheel cover and they were too cold. 

The blonde man wondered how he hadn't fainted already as his body had grown accustomed to doing these days. 

Not that he wanted to faint either.

Probably he's running on pure adrenaline. He struggled for at least three minutes trying to pick up the lock from the old warehouse they were supposed to meet, the key was so rusty that it seemed to be about to snap in half instead of opening the door. Eventually the door opened, he took it as a small victory for the day, even if the key twisted and was unusable later just to realize that the door was opened by someone inside.

Quickly, Mydei took a step back warily, staring at the door crack, putting on a defensive stance. 

No one but him had the keys. No one but him should be here. Golden eyes locked with blue ones. 

Immediately, he relaxed and walked closer.

“How did you even get in?” 

Mydei asked once Phainon and him stepped inside,—the door lock now unusable but it didn't matter as they were completely in an almost 200m radius—. Shafts of moonlight filtered through, and the white-haired man who was still covered from head to toe just pointed at the broken panels in the ceiling, that let the moonlight pass and illuminate stacks of unused crates and tarps. 

“Not going to talk?” Mydei inquired once again.

“To be honest, I'm not sure how to begin this conversation.” Phainon answered, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms.

“With words.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. So funny, Mydeimos.” There was uncertainty in his voice that made the blonde roll his eyes.

“I should be the one saying that. You offered me a conversation and as you can see I'm doing most of the talking.” When it's usually the other way around, went unsaid.

Phainon inclined his head slightly, a gesture somewhere between acknowledgment and apology. “I know. That’s why I came. This is your territory, a place you set and one that you knew I'd come. Because you’d feel safe enough to let me face you.”

The nerve of him. Mydei stalked forward until he stood under one of the pale shafts of moonlight. His glare was sharp, unyielding. “You think you can just break into my space and then talk about safety?”

Phainon didn’t flinch. “I didn’t want you to walk into another ambush. I needed to be sure first. That’s all.”

“You always have a reason, don’t you?” Mydei snapped, his voice echoing off steel and concrete. “Always a justification. Always some excuse why you couldn’t stay, couldn’t trust me, couldn’t—” choose me. He stopped, chest heaving, biting back the part he refused to say aloud.

Phainon stepped closer, shadows clinging to him until the faint light brushed across his face. “I didn’t come here to make excuses.” His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the crack beneath. “I came here because I couldn’t stay away anymore.”

Mydei’s laugh was brittle, hollow. “You left me, Phainon.”

“I know.” He closed the distance further, his movements quiet, patient. “And I hate myself for it. But if I had stayed, you would’ve been the one hunted instead of me. And I couldn’t—” His jaw locked, his throat refusing to finish.

“You don’t get to decide for me,” Mydei spat. The authority in his voice cut through the cavernous dark. “Not anymore. Not when you took away the option to choose from everyone.”

The silence stretched, broken only by the faint drip of water somewhere deeper in the warehouse. Then Phainon’s hand twitched, almost reaching for him. “Then tell me what I can do.”

Mydei’s golden eyes burned, sharper than the moonlight. “Be honest. For once. Tell me this isn’t just pity dragging you back here.”

“It isn’t.” The words came low, rough, as Phainon finally let his hand brush against Mydei’s cheek. “It never was.”

The touch was electric, sending Mydei’s composure splintering. He should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve stepped back, told him to leave, to never come near again. Instead his breath caught, his lips parting as though the confession stole the air from him.

The closeness strangled him. His fists curled into Phainon’s dark coat, dragging him nearer. Their foreheads touched, breaths colliding in shaky rhythm. For a heartbeat, it felt like they could fall back into what they once were, just by leaning in the fraction left between them.

“Take it off,” Mydei whispered, his eyes flicking to the mask.

Phainon hesitated only a moment before pulling it down, revealing the face Mydei had seen too many times in memory, never enough in life. Moonlight carved Phainon’s features into something both familiar and foreign—the same man Mydei had once trusted with his life, and yet a stranger wrapped in shadows. His blue eyes shone with pure adoration at him, yet he could see the darkness and sorrows underneath the surface of those sky colored eyes. His moon-kissed hair was duller as if life hadn't been treating him right, but for Mydei… 

He looked perfect despite their shared exhaustion at the reality they were facing. A world too relentless and cruel, but in the middle of the chaos they endured they found an oasis at each other. Both craved that proximity that had been denied for months.

Their lips brushed once, fleeting, desperate. 

“If you thought I’d be doing fine without you, you know nothing about me at all.” Mydei said in a whisper. “Once you entered my life we both knew that there was no turning back.”

“You’re right,” Phainon said hoarsely. “I know nothing anymore. Except that I—”He cut himself off, jaw clenching. His hand lifted anyway, fingers brushing against Mydei’s arm, light as a question.

The blonde didn’t pull away. Couldn’t. His chest heaved, his body tense as a bowstring. “Except that what?” he demanded, his voice breaking halfway.

Their faces were a breath apart, every heartbeat dragging them closer.

Phainon’s hand finally slid to the back of his neck, the warmth searing, grounding, and dangerous. His lips hovered above Mydei’s, close enough that Mydei could taste the apology unsaid, the confession trembling in the space between.

“Except that I never stopped loving you.” 

The words landed heavy, raw, and for a moment Mydei  let himself fall into it—into him—before the truth of their separation crashed back in. 

But it was alright, they were together now. They could think about a solution, they could create a new possibility if there was none. Their future had endless options that only them were able to create, not some shadow from a distant past.

They closed the distance between their lips once again, the kiss full of desperation as if the physical proximity wasn't enough to sate the fire burning inside them. The kiss wasn't gentle but rough, too many teeth a fight for control that neither of them wanted to lose. Once they ran out of oxygen, they smiled faintly still close before kissing once again, this time more gentle and careful, lips slowly swelling with the rough treatment they were being subjected to.

Phainon pressed forward until Mydei’s back met the cold steel wall, the chill biting into his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Mydei gasped softly at the contrast—ice against his spine, heat flooding from the body in front of him. That heat was unbearable, feverish, the kind that spread under his skin and made him ache for more.

Phainon’s coat slipped from his shoulders, hitting the dusty floor with a heavy thud, and suddenly he wasn’t shielded anymore. His chest was bare beneath the thin underlayer, the hard planes of his body revealed in the pale light seeping through the broken ceiling panels. Moonlight caressed the curve of his collarbone, the taut lines of muscle that flexed as he reached for Mydei.

The blonde’s breath stuttered when Phainon’s hands gripped his waist, thumbs pressing hard enough to bruise as though he needed to remind himself that Mydei was real, solid, alive. Mydei’s own hands trembled, not from fear but from hunger, as he yanked roughly at the fabric covering Phainon’s torso, pulling it over his head until it joined the coat on the ground.

“Gods…” Mydei whispered under his breath, eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin as if starved.

Phainon smirked faintly but it faltered when Mydei’s hands slid up his chest, tracing the golden tattoo over it and his fingers softly caressed the sun tattoo on his neck with reverence and fury all at once. His lips descended again, and they kissed like drowning men, mouths crashing together in a tangle of teeth and tongue, pulling, taking, needing.

Their bodies ground together, the heat of it almost painful. Phainon pressed Mydei harder into the wall, his thigh slipping between the blonde’s legs, eliciting a low moan from him. That sound nearly undid him; Phainon swallowed it with another kiss, desperate, bruising.

Clothes became obstacles. Mydei tugged at his own shirt with shaking hands, tearing it off his frame and baring his torso to the night air. The cold licked at his skin, but Phainon’s mouth was there almost instantly, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his throat, over the jut of his collarbone, along the slope of his chest, tracing the red lines of ink that decor Ed his body. Each kiss was fevered, worshipful, punctuated with small nips that left Mydei shuddering.

“Phai—” Mydei’s voice caught, fingers fisting in white hair as Phainon descended lower.

It wasn’t just lust—there was devotion in every touch, as if Phainon were trying to map Mydei’s body back into memory, claim it anew, remind himself of every line he had been deprived of. He kissed along the ridges of his ribs, tongue dragging lightly over skin too sensitive, leaving trails of fire in his wake.

Phainon’s mouth trailed lower, desperate to taste every inch of the body he’d been starving for. His lips grazed Mydei’s abdomen, soft kisses placed like worship, until instinct told him to press harder, linger. His palms framed the blonde’s waist—and stilled.

It was subtle, the kind of difference no stranger would have noticed. But Phainon knew this body. Every line, every scar, every shift in muscle. His hands froze against that faint curve that shouldn’t have been there, the tension beneath the skin different, guarded.

A tremor ran through his chest.

“Mydei…” His voice was hoarse, roughened by disbelief. He pressed his lips once more to that spot, trembling, and whispered against it. “You’re…”

The golden-eyed man stiffened as if struck. His fingers twitched in Phainon’s hair but didn’t push him away, didn’t pull him closer either. His throat worked hard around words that wouldn’t come.

The world shifted. Phainon felt it as a physical lurch, a drop in the stomach as if the floor under him had vanished. For a moment his vision tunneled; then shame flared so hot it was almost pain. He buried his forehead against Mydei’s belly, arms wrapping him with a grip that was equal parts claim and protection. The sound that escaped him was not a word but a broken litany.

Phainon’s heart clenched violently. He lifted his head, blue eyes raw with emotion. “How long?” have you been keeping this a secret? How long have you been enduring this all alone?

“…Three months,” Mydei admitted finally, almost spitting the words out like a confession forced from him. His chest rose and fell unevenly, every second a fight between pride and fragility.

The weight of it hit him like a blade to the gut. Phainon’s eyes widened, and then dropped, shame scorching him deeper than any wound he had endured. He rested his forehead against Mydei’s stomach, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him in as if the world might rip them apart if he let go.

“I left you with this… with him—her—our child,” Phainon choked, his voice shattering. “I wasn’t there, gods, I wasn’t there. I should have been—every day, every breath, I should have been.”

Tears built in Mydei’s eyes, little bright pools catching the moonlight. He pressed the heel of his hand into Phainon’s shoulder, torn between shoving him away and threading into his hair. “Don’t—don’t you dare pity me.”

“It isn’t pity,” Phainon choked out, lifting his head. His blue eyes were glass-bright, red at the rims. “It’s regret. And love. And the sickening truth that nothing—nothing I do for the rest of my life will ever be enough to atone for this. For leaving you with this— all of this situation alone.” His hand splayed reverently over the curve of Mydei’s stomach, trembling. “You had been enduring it all for both of you, while I thought that leaving— Oh God… I just ran away. You were really facing everything on your own.”

Mydei’s laugh came out broken, bitter, catching in his throat. “You think saying that makes it easier? That I’ll just forgive you because you sound so damn sorry?”

“No,” Phainon whispered, shaking his head violently, jaw clenched against the weight of his own guilt. “I don’t deserve forgiveness. Not for this. Not ever. But gods, Mydei, I swear—I’ll spend whatever life I have left trying to make up for it. Even if I fail every day, even if you never let me close again… I’ll try.”

The silence between them crackled, heavy and suffocating. Mydei’s eyes glistened in the dim light, his chest heaving with emotions he couldn’t cage. Against his will, he let his palm slide down, covering Phainon’s hand where it lay against his stomach.

The gesture was small, almost fragile—but Phainon’s breath stuttered as if it were salvation itself. His lips pressed to Mydei’s skin once more, reverent and trembling.

“You carried both of us,” he whispered, voice breaking. “And I abandoned you. I don’t deserve this child. I don’t deserve you.”

Mydei’s throat burned, but his words came sharp anyway. “You’re damn right you don’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that this child exists. That us exist. And you—” His voice cracked, and he finally gripped Phainon’s hair, not to push him away, but to anchor him. “—you don’t get to run anymore.”

Phainon’s chest caved with the weight of those words. He looked up, blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight, not with shadows but with a vow. “Then I won’t.”

The silence extended for a moment as if it let that promise to be set in stone. The warmth of their hands on top of the life the two of them created was like promising a future to their child that would not be built upon regrets. The selfish happiness they both craved but that felt unfair to deserve. In the end they couldn't help but be attracted to that shimmering hope.

Phainon lifted his head slowly, his lips grazing Mydei’s trembling fingers before his gaze rose to meet golden eyes, wide and wet with unspoken grief.

Something broke between them then—not apart, but open.

Phainon surged up, mouth claiming Mydei’s in a kiss that was no longer just desperate—it was pleading. A raw, aching need poured into it, the kind of kiss that carried every lost night, every solitary breath Mydei had taken, every regret Phainon would never outrun. Mydei answered in kind, clutching his jaw as if furious, yet unable to let go, pulling him deeper, teeth clashing, breaths ragged.

The weight of Phainon’s apology burned through his touch; the tremble of Mydei’s anger spilled into the way he clung, nails dragging lines into skin as though punishing and forgiving at once.

Clothes became an afterthought, falling away between rushed, clumsy touches that spoke more than words ever could. Phainon’s hands mapped Mydei’s body with reverence, lingering over that curve, that fragile secret he had discovered, and every time his palm passed there, his lips softened, his breath faltered.

“You’ve carried more than you should,” Phainon murmured against his throat, voice breaking. “Let me—please—carry you now.”

Mydei swallowed hard, eyes squeezing shut, making an effort o to swallow back the embarrassing sounds that threatened to slip free from his lips. “You speak as if you ever had another option.” His body betrayed him, arching into that touch, dragging the man closer until there was no space left between them.

“I know,” Phainon whispered fiercely, pressing their foreheads together, his grip almost bruising. “But I’m here. I’m here.”

And then they were lost in each other again, mouths devouring, bodies pressed with the urgency of two men terrified that letting go even for a breath might mean losing the other forever. Every gasp, every desperate moan was heavy with more than lust—it was grief, it was forgiveness, it was a hunger to rewrite the silence of the past months with skin and sweat and closeness.

Mydei clung to him, trembling, his pride shattered, his walls collapsing with every kiss Phainon pressed to his mouth, his throat, his abdomen. “Don’t—don’t vanish again,” he gasped, a plea torn from the depths he never let anyone see.

“I won’t,” Phainon swore, a vow breathed against his skin as if sealing it with touch, with heat, with love.

They melted together, tangled in need, breathless, the rhythm of their bodies saying what words could never hold. Each movement was a prayer, each caress a promise, each kiss a desperate brand that carved into them the truth they had nearly lost: you’re mine, I’m yours, and I will never let go again.

For a heartbeat they existed as two halves of the same ache — braced, raw, and incandescent — until the sharp clack of the warehouse door cutting open cleaved the moment in two.

Their heads snapped to the direction of the sound freezing. A slow clap, deliberate, venomous, carried through the cavernous dark.

“Well,” a voice drawled from the shadows, cold as steel. “Isn’t this touching?”

Chapter Text

I was ashamed of all the broken pieces of myself,

Hiding all the edges from the light,

You on the other hand, made a work of art from me.

Even when I couldn't see it yet.

“Well,” a voice drawled from the shadows, cold as steel. “Isn’t this touching?”

It was as if ice was poured on their heads, their hearts beating fast and loud on their chests. Shame and rage soon took over the initial shock. Phainon was the one who reacted first, moving in front of Mydei, shielding him from the other’s gaze. The blonde quickly wrapped his jacket back around him. The less the other could read from the situation the better.

“Lygus.” Phainon spat with unconcealed hatred. His blue eyes glancing back at Mydei every now and then.

“So you do remember me.” The man chuckled. “Got tired of pretending in front of your clueless boyfriend already?”

The white-haired man narrowed his eyes at the older man, not uttering a single word in response.

“I know the truth, Lygus.” Mydei said, golden eyes burning with fury. “Stay away from him.”

Lygus smirked, cold, cruel. “What do you know? A biased story from people that cannot take the blame for their actions. It's rather disappointing to see the heir of such a magnificent enterprise have such a limited perspective, well—” He cleared his throat, fixing his tie completely unbothered as if he hadn't just interrupted a couple about to have sex. “I can't expect nothing from someone who has a music degree.”

That was a low blow and it hurt.

Mydeimos was about to bark a response, not caring about the consequences to it but Phainon beat him to speak, making him halt on his tracks. 

“What do you want? I doubt you came here by chance.”

Right! The annoyance at the interruption and the memories of his conversation with Cyrene had blinded Mydei for a moment, hatred making him forget that they were in danger right then.

“I was actually trying to reach for you Neikos496—”

“Don't you ever dare to call me that again.” Phainon stepped towards Lygus, he seemed taller and menacing as he walked with confident steps towards the man. “I have a name.”

The older man just smiled as if he was dealing with a restless child. “As you wish Khaslana,” sighing he continued. “ I wanted you to propose a truce. A mutually beneficial deal t—”

“No.”

Lygus’ smile twitched at the corner, clearly annoyed at Phainon's defiance. Mydei's eyes were fixed on the man in case tried anything. “Won't you even give me the chance to explain my proposal?”

“Will you ever leave me alone?” Phainon snapped back.

“That depends on you.”

Mydei was sure that his boyfriend was just holding back from murdering that man for their future sake, but he's about to lunge towards that man and get rid of him once for all. Hell, he doesn't care if he has to bribe all the supposed justice system to get away with it. Walking towards the man, he couldn’t let a golden opportunity like this pass, no witnesses, a secluded place, no cameras—.

Phainon must have guessed his thoughts as he blocked his way, extending his arms to stop him from going forward, keeping him behind him.

“Mydeimos as much as I appreciate you sharing the sentiment, I rather don't want to lose you.” Lygus laughed at his words, clapping as if he had heard the greatest joke of all times. “The psycho in front of us didn't come here unarmed.”

“Oh? How rude.” A pause, “Did you mean these?” Lygus opened his trenchcoat showing a gun whose structure wasn't common, instead it looked more of a sedative syringe. Next to it was a flask with clear liquid. “Not really dangerous, you know that Khaslana. Unless you want to share something with us…”

Phainon stiffened, pressing his back against Mydei, who tilted his head in confusion at his reaction. He understands that he shouldn't get close to Lygus at that moment, but his boyfriend's earlier confidence made him think otherwise.

“Phainon what’s he talking about—”

“The answer is still no. No matter what.” The blue-eyed man spat in a mixture of pain and anger.

“Do you really not want to hear?” Phainon shook his head furiously, icy blue eyes glaring sharp at the man every move. “Then. Go on Khaslana. Tell him,” he watched both halfnaked lovers with dark amusement. “Tell him that you're the real danger.”

“You're sick.” Phainon spat. “You can't take a no for an answer?”

“As a matter of fact, I can.” Lygus closed back his coat, putting his hands on his pockets, and walked casually towards the half open door. “I appreciate the show you two just gave me. We'll be seeing each other soon enough.” He was almost a step outside when he added, “By then, make sure your clueless boyfriend learns the actual truth, not just your pathetic sob stories.”

Silence returned, loud and deafening. Phainon could feel his heart wildly beating in his chest, once he regained his bearings he turned around to see Mydeimos looking at their clothes strewn all over the dirty floor with a vacant look on his face. As if scared of facing reality, they dressed up in silence and then the white-haired man took his boyfriend's hand with purpose, looking his eyes with his.

“Come with me.” He said, not hesitating anymore. 

Mydei gave him a faint, tired smile. “Didn’t you spend a month and a half fixated on the idea that it was dangerous?”

Phainon’s chest still heaved, as though he hadn’t been breathing properly since Lygus walked in. He dragged his hand through his hair and then turned sharply, his gaze latching onto Mydei like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“He doesn't let go of an idea so easily, so it's safe to say that he’s still after me.” He admitted, “but he’s going to use you to get what he wants. He doesn’t care if you’re shattered, or broken, or gone. To him you’re just a way to reach me. A tool he can discard when you’ve served your purpose.”

Mydei stiffened, fury flooding him. “Then he underestimates me. I won’t be anyone’s pawn—”

Phainon cut him off, stepping closer, his hands gripping Mydei’s shoulders like anchors. “Don’t you get it? That’s what terrifies me. Lygus already used you. He doesn’t care if you fight, if you resist, if you hate him. He’ll still use you. And gods, I let you walk straight into it.” His voice cracked, just enough to bleed through his usual confident voice.

For a moment, Mydei was quiet. Not because he agreed, but because the raw guilt in Phainon’s eyes left him breathless. Mydei knows Phainon carries an unhealthy amount of guilt but he had never witnessed how deep it ran within him.

“You’re right, now staying apart is going to get us killed faster.” He murmured with a somber expression on his face. “Mydeimos, you just lost your chance to run away.”

“I know, and I never intended to run. I knew it from the start, since I’ve chosen to learn the truth over the bliss of ignorance.” Golden eyes softened, though the fury hadn’t left them. Mydei’s lips curved, sharp but steady. “If being with you makes me a target, then fine. This is my choice and even if I had the chance I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Phainon’s grip trembled, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away for his own safety. “You don’t understand,” he rasped. “I can take whatever he throws at me. But if he lays a hand on you—if he even tries—” He broke off, jaw tight, the image alone unbearable.

The image of Cyrene laying motionlessly while being swallowed by the snow, her eyes devoid of life superimposed with Mydei’s. His golden eyes being devoid of life and tired as he already was, his body resting limp on the cold ground.

Winter was just around the corner.

“Then stop him,” Mydei answered, simple and unflinching. “That’s all I ask. Don’t give him the chance.”

Those words snapped him out of his paranoia. His boyfriend was right, he had to stop avoiding confrontation and act accordingly. If he hadn't run away, they wouldn't be in this situation, if he just had been honest they could have already reached for a solution. Perhaps, it was the moment Phainon must start trusting Mydei and others too.

He wasn't alone.

Phainon slowly nodded, chaos still storming in his head but his heart strangely at ease with Mydei near, no longer just a flicker behind a grainy camera feed. Perhaps there was still a chance.

“I promise,” he said, his voice a rough vow as he laced their fingers together and led him toward the exit. But at the door, he froze, something twisting sharp inside him. He turned, searching Mydei’s face as though it held the verdict of his soul. “Mydeimos… would you still hold my hand once I tell you the things I’ve done?”

The golden-eyed man’s grip loosened but didn’t fall away. His lips pressed together, weighing his answer like a blade. “I can’t make a promise on a premise like that,” he admitted. His voice softened, betraying cracks in his pride. “But I can promise this: I’ll listen. From the beginning to the end. No judgment until I’ve heard it all.”

It wasn’t the absolution Phainon craved, but it was more than he deserved. The tension in his chest eased, and he let out a shaky breath, a faint smile ghosting his mouth. Mydeimos wasn't as biased as Lygus suggested, instead the young businessesman was someone levelheaded and fair. This was exactly what he loved about the man, he was always willing to hear both sides but he would never let his own feelings cloud his judgement from right and wrong. Albeit his recent actions seemed to point the opposite.

Mydei hadn’t turned him in, despite knowing the truth about the Flame Reaver. He’d protected him, covered for him, borne that risk alone. The thought burned Phainon’s throat with guilt he couldn’t name.

The ride towards Phainon's temporary place aka hideout was a short and silent one. They couldn't exactly talk in the meantime as the motorcycle engine was loud on their ears and the helmets covered their faces entirely. Mydei had conflicted feelings about his boyfriend place.

The hacker hideout was rather a small one room apartment in the city downtown, right on top of the restaurant he had been frequenting lately. It was a smart move to hide right under their nose as they would likely never have guessed he was so close. His motorcycle was hidden in a super small garage supposed for bicycles that he ended up using for it. On the other hand Mydei wondered why they had never run on each other, and why it took so long for Phainon to finally act.

The lock clicked, and Phainon shouldered the door open. A draft of stale air rolled out to meet them.

Mydei froze in the doorway. The smell hit first — a pungent cocktail of sweat, burnt circuits, and cheap instant noodles gone sour. It clawed down his throat before he could brace himself. His stomach twisted violently, a bitter wave rising that forced him to cover his mouth with his sleeve.

Phainon glanced back, sheepish, but didn’t comment. He didn’t need to. The shame was already written across his face.

Inside, the apartment was no better. Wires tangled like vines across the floor, screens still flickering with half-finished code. Screwdrivers and soldering irons glinted under the weak light, tossed onto counters sticky with god-knew-what. And the kitchen—he almost gagged—the counter buried beneath stacks of crumpled noodle packets, the sink a graveyard of unwashed bowls.

Mydei forced himself inside, but every inhale burned. He tried breathing shallowly through his nose, but the sour tang clung, relentless. His body betrayed him, stomach cramping, mouth filling with saliva in warning.

“Windows,” he rasped, already striding past Phainon. His fingers shook as he shoved one open, letting the cold night air rush in. The breeze bit at his skin, but it was better than suffocating. He braced his palms on the sill, eyes squeezed shut until the nausea ebbed.

“Sorry.” Both men said at the same time, chuckling right after the tension dissipated a little.

“I didn't think it was that bad until well…” Phainon sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, as he tried looking for a plastic bag to at least put away the stinky mess on his kitchen.

“I wouldn't have minded—” blue eyes looked at him with incredulity. “that much.” He forced himself to admit, hearing how his boyfriend laughed softly at those words. “Our child is surely picky.” Mydei pointed at his midsection.

“Yeah, of course.” Phainon answered from the kitchen, he could hear the mock on his tone. “Blame it on the kid.”

“I'm serious!” Mydei blushed a little not knowing what to do to make himself useful, standing next to the open window was awkward. “They wouldn't even let me eat sweets! Or fruits! Or almost anything!” He complained and he heard Phainon burst out laughing in the other room far from his view.

Coward.

Phainon continued making the kitchen presentable while he heard Mydei's steps all around the flat, not paying any mind to them until a wet rag? Met his face.

“Mydeimos…” he complained, removing the item from his face, it turned out to be his work out purple t-shirt he used to sleep in, now dripping wet. “Why?”

Mydei had tied his hair in a messy ponytail and wrapped one of his scarves on his face as a makeshift facemask and had picked a neon green broom that was forgotten in some corner of the apartment as Phainon himself had completely forgotten of its existence until now.

“I can't stay still when there's so much to do.” He explained ignoring on purpose the finger that pointed the wet t-shirt. “And that was for laughing at me.”

Phainon nodded. “I appreciate the aid, but… Why is my t-shirt wet?”

“I needed a rag to clean.”

“Why my t-shirt?”

“There was nothing else around.” He lied, making his way into the kitchen. 

“That's not true.”

“It is.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“I thought we already got rid of it, though.” Mydei commented with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You agreed to throw it away.”

“Fine. No complaints.” He finally gave up, knowing what the blonde said was in fact true. It was ugly according to him, and already too old to be functional. The day to say goodbye to it finally arrived as it was used to clean the kitchen counter.

Phainon sighed as he wrung out the poor shirt over the sink, muttering something about betrayal under his breath. Mydei only smirked behind the scarf, scrubbing furiously at the counter as if sheer stubbornness could erase months of neglect.

“Careful,” Phainon warned when he heard the broom clatter against a tangle of wires. “That one’s connected—”

A shower of sparks hissed from a half-finished circuit.

“…to nothing important,” Phainon finished lamely, rushing over before Mydei could set the place on fire. He plucked the broom from his hands, lips twitching. “You’re going to set the building on fire.”

“Fitting for someone called the Flame Reaver.” The blonde rolled his eyes, laughing softly at his own joke. Mydei tied the scarf tighter over his face, arms crossed as he looked around the chaos of wires and empty packages. His golden eyes narrowed in thought before he finally spoke. “Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen.”

Phainon, halfway through detangling a nest of cables, froze and looked up warily. “…What?”

“You,” Mydei pointed the broom at him like a general with a sword, “are handling this rat’s nest in the living room. You’re the only one who understands which wire belongs to what, so I won’t risk blowing the entire block just because I confused the wires.”

Phainon blinked at him, then slowly smirked. “…Fair.”

“And I,” Mydei continued, ignoring the smugness, “will take over your kitchen from being a biological hazard.” 

“Be careful then,” The hacker chuckled. “You can be patient zero from an unknown virus or become a zombie.”

“If I become a zombie I’d die of hunger.” Mydei smirked at how Phainon's mouth opened and closed with incredulity.

Focusing back into the task at hand, stepping the kitchen floor, cleaning the counters —with just detergent and bleach bc there was no disinfectant in Phainon's place and it was already past midnight to look for cleaning supplies—, he found himself with the arduous task of getting rid from the empty food containers, empty cereal boxes, and spoiled food. He was glad he was still wearing the scarf on his face because otherwise he would have already puked, pregnancy heightening his senses to an awkward degree.

Mydei pulled the scarf down just enough to breathe, stepping back into the now clean kitchen with his arms folded. He opened the pantry door and groaned at what he found — instant noodles stacked like bricks, a few tuna cans rolled out, followed by a carton of eggs and bread that should’ve been declared an archaeological find.

“…Phainon.”

“Mm?”

“Do you plan on surviving off of cardboard and salt packets?” He turned, holding up a stack of instant noodle bricks like damning evidence.

Phainon glanced over his shoulder and had the audacity to grin. “They’re the spicy kind. Deluxe.”

His voice lowered, golden eyes narrowing. “From whose grave did you steal this bread?”

From the living room, Phainon barked a laugh. “Dramatic.”

“This is a brick!” Mydei banged the loaf against the counter for emphasis. It made a hollow thunk.

Phainon laughed so hard he nearly dropped a wire. “Don’t break the counter with it.”

Shaking his head, Mydei tossed the loaf into the trash and lined up the eggs and tuna instead. “…I can work with this.” He muttered to himself as he lit the stoves and placed a pan there.

“Making a feast?” Phainon teased, still grinning as he twisted another wire free.

“I’m making sure you eat something that doesn’t come with powdered soup base.” Mydei shot back, cracking the eggs into a bowl. “Which, judging from this mess, is a miracle.”

Phainon leaned back against the couch, watching him from across the room. His chest loosened unexpectedly at the sight: Mydei, hair tied up, his scarf loosely hanging from his neck, sleeves pushed up, cooking in his kitchen like it was his.

It was domestic. Ordinary. The kind of peace he thought he’d never be allowed to have ever again. One month and a half can really make you miss things you took as guaranteed, Phainon realized.

The smell of sizzling tuna patties eventually overpowered the bleach and stale air clinging to the apartment. Mydei flipped one carefully, lips pressed in concentration. He mashed another mix together with nothing but a fork, the tines clinking against the chipped bowl. Phainon almost winced at the sound—of course he didn’t own a whisk—but Mydei worked around it with an ease that made the kitchen feel less like a disaster zone and more like… lived-in.

Phainon didn’t realize he’d gone still until the cable slipped from his hands. He found himself staring, caught by the quiet rhythm Mydei brought with him: the scrape of fork against bowl, the gentle hiss of oil, the faint hum Mydei didn’t even notice he was making.

“Stop staring,” Mydei said without turning around, a faint pink dusting his ears.

“Can’t,” Phainon replied easily, leaning back against the couch. “It feels… different with you here. It's like a dream come true.”

Mydei froze for half a second, spatula hovering over the pan. He didn’t answer, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, twitching upward before he smoothed them back down.

When he finally set the plate down on the coffee table between them, Phainon sat forward, blinking at the neat stack of golden patties. Steam curled upward, carrying a smell so warm it nearly drowned the last remnants of the smell in the apartment.

“You cooked for me,” Phainon said quietly, almost disbelieving. “Mydei pinch my check, so I'm sure I'm not drea— Ouch! That wasn't a pinch.” He had to crouch down a little to rub his ankle, that Mydei had just kicked not so gently under the table.

“You speak as if you don't have a brain.” The blonde commented with a feigned air of nonchalance, betrayed by how his cheeks slowly turned a soft shade of red.

“Perhaps I do not have one with you around.” He teased back a sly smirk on his lips, making the other bit furiously on the piece of patty on his fork, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. “Thank you for the meal Dei.”

They ate in a silence that was anything but awkward, knees brushing whenever one leaned in for another bite. Mydei chewed carefully, while Phainon tore through his plate like he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks.

“…Slow down,” Mydei muttered, pushing a glass of water toward him. “You’ll choke.”

Phainon swallowed hard, then grinned, boyish and unguarded. “If I do, at least I’ll go happy.”

Mydei rolled his eyes, but his lips softened at the edges. He reached out without thinking, brushing a crumb from Phainon’s cheek. His fingers lingered a heartbeat too long before he pulled them back.

Phainon stilled, golden eyes searching his face, the weight of the moment pressing close. “…You know what this feels like?”

“What?” Mydei asked softly.

“…Home,” Phainon said, voice low, as if he didn’t want to risk breaking the spell.

Mydei looked away, cheeks warm. He fiddled with the edge of his scarf, pretending he hadn’t heard, but his silence was answer enough.

The patties disappeared between them faster than either expected. Mydei leaned back against the couch, arms folded over his middle, eyelids heavier than he wanted to admit. Phainon had abandoned his wires entirely, clearing the plates with a care that surprised even himself. He clattered around the sink, half to stay busy, half to keep from blurting more feelings than the night could hold.

When he came back, Mydei was still sitting upright but looked moments from toppling over. Phainon dropped onto the couch beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed.

“You’re exhausted,” Phainon murmured.

“I’m fine,” Mydei argued, voice thin with sleep. “Just… full.”

“Liar,” Phainon said, but softer this time. His hand hovered for a moment before resting lightly against Mydei’s. “Is it always this bad? The nausea?”

Mydei hesitated, then sighed. “…Some days. Tonight was better. Maybe because I wasn’t alone.”

That last word slipped out before he could catch it. Phainon’s chest tightened. He squeezed Mydei’s fingers gently, not trusting himself to say anything without his voice breaking.

A lull settled between them, the kind that made the air heavy with unspoken things. Mydei leaned sideways, giving in to the weight dragging him down, and his head found Phainon’s shoulder.

“You’re warm,” he muttered, already half-asleep.

Phainon froze, then exhaled slowly, resting his cheek against pale hair. He stayed still, hardly daring to breathe too loud, one arm curling around Mydei to anchor him there.

“…I should’ve been here sooner,” Phainon whispered into the quiet, words meant for no one, or maybe just for the life stirring between them. “I’m sorry you carried all of this alone.”

Mydei didn’t stir, but his fingers tightened faintly around Phainon’s hand, like some part of him heard.

Phainon let himself bask in it, his arm wrapped protectively around Mydei’s middle. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine this was their life. That they could have this—meals, quiet nights, the future blooming inside Mydei—without the shadow of Irontomb waiting to break it all apart.

Phainon’s gaze flicked toward the pile of notes and dismantled hardware on the coffee table. The word clawed at him, bitter and relentless. Irontomb.

“Mydei,” he murmured, voice breaking the fragile quiet.

“Mhm?” Mydei shifted against his shoulder, golden eyes still soft with the remnants of drowsiness.

Phainon swallowed, wishing he didn’t have to be the one to shatter this peace. “We can’t pretend it away. Not tonight. Not anymore.”

The tenderness in Mydei’s face dimmed, but he didn’t pull back. He straightened slowly, hands folding over his stomach as if to brace himself. “…I know. I was waiting for you to say it.”

“Can I ask you something…?” He began, “before we start.”

“Hmm?” Was the blonde ‘eager’ answer.

“How did you realize I was the Flame Reaver?” He had genuine curiosity on the topic, he assumed he had noticed after he was hospitalized because of the hacking of his phone. Nevertheless, it was very difficult for people to pinpoint who is behind that stuff.

“Aglaea had been having problems with her business as a huge chunk of data got deleted and the networking services failed. They were visiting our place because—” The blonde paused, not admitting the reason why they came to visit he was a mess. “Anyway, Tribbios restored the camera file and due to their eagerness to find out the culprit they connected the video on the living room TV. Long story short:, I recognized you and the next thing I knew was that I was in the hospital.”

Guilt was written on the white-haired man’s face. “I wasn’t showing my face though.” He added as if it could lessen the damage already done.

“I recognized you… That’s what matters.”

Silence pressed between them again, heavier now, full of things unsaid.

Phainon rubbed a hand over his face, then tangled his fingers with Mydei’s, grounding himself. “Lygus isn’t lying. Cyrene and I aren’t completely innocent. I don’t know what she has told you but we were the ones who destroyed our own town.” He paused, avoiding to meet Mydei’s eyes. ”I was Lygus' assistant when I was a teenager. Irontomb is a biological weapon and I didn’t know that at the time…” His voice broke, the strain of holding back the need to cry making itself known. “I-I killed them all. Ignorance doesn't mean I'm spared of the consequences of my acts.” His eyes locked with his hands, vision getting blurred with tears. “Cyrene knew the truth but never said a word, too afraid to speak. We have blood on our hands that we could never get rid of.”

Mydei knew it, he knew it all he knew the truth Cyrene hadn’t sugarcoated this. She had been honest while sparing him from the gruesome details of it. The blonde couldn’t help but feel rage, Phainon unlike the pink-haired girl had spent much more time with that man and the mental scars of it were obvious. The white-haired man next to him blamed himself for things he hadn’t the control of, he was still scared of Lygus, believing that he also was the culprit of the tragedy that has befallen on them.

Without words, he linked his hand tighter with Phainon’s one; sharing his warmth.

“I know.” Golden eyes searched for blue ones that shone with unreleased tears. “Phainon, I know. Cyrene told me everything.” He bit his lip before continuing. “You’re not at fault for anything.”

“Mydei you don’t understand!” He sobbed, almost pulling away from the blonde but ultimately staying by his side. “I hurt Cyrene too! She says she doesn’t resent me, but I hurt her! I tortured her!” He almost yelled the last part. “She must hate me! No matter what I do in my life I will never forgive myself for letting her off to die.”

“Phainon, she loves you.” Mydei tried to reason with him, but it was impossible. The man next to him was right in an emotional breakdown. 

“You don’t know a thing!” He pointed out, Mydei just nodded in silence as if saying ‘Then tell me, so I know.’ “Irontomb is meant to poison resources, so when we actually thought we were outsmarting Lygus I was actually accelerating her demise!” He sobbed once again.”I found out very late, and I pretended that I was forced to return to administer the medicine when I discovered the damage I did. I’ve never told her the truth, though… I am despicable, right?”

The blonde decided to remain silent. Phainon clearly wasn’t in the right headspace to debate his ideas.

“Irontomb is almost a perfect military strategy, it can flip the table by being both the illness and the cure. It also makes it disgustingly profitable, I have to admit. The nasty part is when some lucky soul is inmune to it… It makes you go crazy, you can't distinguish allies from enemies and usually you have to be eliminated afterwards.”

Mydei mouth opened and closed, not finding in him how to ask the most awkward question of all times. Nevertheless, in the end he had to kick common sense out of the window because something here didn't make sense.

“Then why is Lygus' so obsessed with you?” He found himself asking, letting go of Phainon's hand. “That doesn't make sense.”

He looked down, white locks covering his face from view. “My blood was what helped to produce an efficient antidote… An exception was made. My escape wasn't an actual escape as Cyrene believes.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “It was an non-verbal agreement not to speak a word… I did many things I regret while trying to escape, u-until I found out that Lygus had orchestrated all my attempts to escape because he wanted to test my limits.” He paused and then slowly, he said. “Eventually I stopped trying to escape. I couldn't leave alive nor dead.”

“Phainon…”

“As you can guess… I know too much about them and they know too much about me. If we ignore each other it should be fine, but neither of us kept the agreement.” He sighed. “I kept trying to ruin the project, and they have kept control over my life. My career, my passport, my travels… Everything.”

“They haven't. You already won, look around you have many people worried for your well-being, they can't control how we feel about you.” He placed one of Phainon's hands on top of his mid-section. “They can't control us.”

“I've already hurt you, I always hurt the people I love the most.” Blue eyes avoided him.

“Phainon!” Mydei exclaimed, forcing Phainon to meet his eyes. “You asked me earlier if I would hold your hand once you told me all the things you've done, and the answer is: Yes. It was always  yes, I just wanted to know if you were going to be honest with me after all.” He now looked to the side and said. “Forgive me for making you revive all that pain.”

Phainon’s breathing was ragged, shoulders trembling beneath Mydei’s hands. He looked like a man who’d been flayed open and was still waiting for the knife to fall again. For a heartbeat, the apartment was too quiet; even the city outside seemed to hold its breath.

Mydei slid closer, closing the small gap between them, and took Phainon’s face in both hands. His thumbs brushed the wetness from his cheeks, gentle but unyielding. “Look at me.”

Phainon stared at where his palm rested, at the faint swell under Mydei’s shirt. For the first time all night, his shaking eased. “…Why?” he whispered.

“Because I want to.” He paused, ”There's tenderness in your eyes that hasn't disappeared even after all the things you've gone through.” The blonde smiled softly at his belly, tenderly placing his hands on top of Phainon's. “I decided to have our child with you; no matter how difficult it is. A week ago, meeting you again seemed impossible. Now, look at us.”

The words cracked something open in Phainon. He leaned forward, forehead pressing against Mydei’s, his breath shaky against golden skin. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted hoarsely. “I don’t know if I can. I just know that I can't let go of you anymore.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Mydei said, and he too didn't know how to solve this disaster. “Two heads think better than one.”

Phainon let out a wet laugh at that, small but real. The sound vibrated between them, fragile and human. “You make it sound so simple.”

“I know it won’t be simple, but at least you're not alone anymore.” Phainon’s thumb rubbed unconsciously over the spot where his hand lay on Mydei’s stomach, and Mydei’s fingers carded through his hair. Outside, the city whispered through the open window, cold seeping in and making them shiver.

Finally, Phainon exhaled, a sound almost like surrender but gentler. “Okay,” he said quietly. “It 's okay.”

Phainon closed the windows with a muted click, sealing out the cold and the hum of the city. When he turned back, the room felt smaller, quieter—just them, the scent of detergent lingering from their halfhearted cleaning, and the weight of things unsaid. The only thing that had made them be able to stand the cold from three in the morning was their proximity, and they couldn't allow Mydei to get more sick while carrying, with the situation they were in.

“I don’t know if you can,” he began slowly, almost as if afraid to break the fragile peace, “but I was about to ask you if you could stay here. At least for now. If Lygus has already tracked you down… being alone is like putting yourself on a silver plate.” He swallowed, eyes flicking toward him, hope glimmering in the blue. “Dei, will you stay?”

Mydei shifted, his hand brushing over the edge of the couch. “…I suppose there’s no problem moving here for a while,” he said carefully. “But I can’t exactly leave my job. Unlike you, I don’t have a plan for disappearing.”

Phainon chuckled under his breath, though it sounded more tired than amused. “That’s not what I meant.” His lips curved faintly. “I meant living together again.”

“Oh.”

“So?”

“Yes, I guess we could make it work in the meantime.” The blonde answered with a faint blush in his cheeks. “I'll have to bring some of my stuff here, as I said I didn't have plans for moving.”

““That’s fine.” Phainon’s smile lingered, softer now. But then his hand tightened against his knee, the warmth in his gaze dimming. “Just… don’t stay alone for too long.”

“Why?” Mydei frowned. “Didn’t he already use me once to get to your location?” Confusion laced Mydei’s voice, what else could that man want from him?

“My prince,” Phainon only called him by that nickname he only used when he was about to point out something that seemed too obvious. “you're naïve if you think he was only looking for my whereabouts.” He let out a dark chuckle. “He was looking for anything to use as leverage, and we gave it to him.”

“You're talking about that syringe?”

He nodded. “I'm immune to it and if you remember what I told you… It was as if he was aiming at you instead.” 

Mydei rubbed his palms against his face, this was less than ideal. They just gave him a show of how much they mattered to each other. Golden eyes widened as a concerning thought crossed his mind.

“What's wrong?”

“The baby.”

Phainon panicked, starting up from the couch and looking at Mydei with worry. “It's something wrong with the baby!? I can drive us to the hospi—”

“Not that.” Mydei deadpanned at his nervous boyfriend, innerly feeling reassured by his actions but in that moment they had something else to worry about. “What I meant it's that perhaps he knows about the baby.”

Phainon gaze darkened, annoyance and anger twisting his features, he was probably ignoring that possibility on purpose. He had never seen the man before him so angry at someone, not even before. It felt almost possessive. And Mydei wouldn't lie and say he doesn't like that side of his lover because he very much enjoys getting to know every side of him.

“We don't know how much he heard, but let's hope he didn't.” Phainon tried to reassure but the words felt weak even to himself.

“What if he did?”

“It means we have to move faster.” Phainon answered in a sharp tone that took Mydei aback, he had probably pushed him too much. “And that leads us to our next problem, I don't have the slightest idea of what to do. All what I've been working on is gone to shit.” 

“We can't leave it buried, that's for sure.” Mydei said with a long tired exhale. “Not any of these given the amount of damage it has already caused.”

“We can't exactly just expose them and call it a day.” He replied with a tired voice. “There's the government involved and many other people. Unless, well… We want to end up suicided with ten shots in the head.”

The young businessesman let out a mirthless laugh, the usual joke of the ‘people trying to change Amphoreus end up asking why they aren't alive after trying’ landed flat as it was the reality for them. 

“Let's start with what you remember,” he said. “With what you can bear to tell me. Tonight doesn’t have to hold it all, but… enough. Enough to put us on the same page. Enough so we can go into Irontomb with our eyes open, not blindfolded.”

“…Alright,” he said finally, voice rough but steady. “I’ll tell you what I can. But once you hear it—there’s no going back.”

The blonde nodded again and Phainon began to speak, getting into the details of how the project worked, where they got the funds for it, who were the investors and who were the people involved aside from the obvious ones. When they realized, pale sunlight was already creeping through the blinds. They had talked until sunrise, carried by exhaustion and stubborn need.

The weight of it all finally pressed down on them. Shoulders slumped, jaws cracked in yawns they couldn’t fight. Without a word, they drifted to the bedroom, moving in quiet sync. Undressing until they were just in underwear, slipping inside the covers after securely closing the curtains. They slipped beneath the covers, and the nearness of shared warmth erased the last chill of dawn. Sleep claimed them before they could say goodnight. Mydei prayed that he had set an alarm in his phone—as he forgot and was too tired to check.

It didn't come as a surprise that he awoke at midday having completely overslept the alarm. His phone blinked accusingly on the nightstand: a dozen missed alarms, twice as many unanswered messages. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He must have been dead tired even his phone’s shrill insistence hadn’t torn him from sleep—not when Phainon’s arm had been draped over his waist the whole time.

There was no point in going to the office now—not with only four hours left in his shift. Showing up late would mean endless explanations, excuses, and a stack of emails waiting to eat him alive. He sighed, running a hand through his tangled hair. Better to cut his losses and brace himself for compensating with remote work later.

Instead, he turned toward the bed, where Phainon was still sprawled across half the sheets, face buried in the pillow, hair sticking up in every direction. Mydei almost smiled despite himself. For all the weight of last night’s confessions, for all the shadows still hanging over them, Phainon looked younger like this—unguarded, almost at peace.

“Up,” Mydei said, tugging at the blanket. “We need groceries. And I need to get my things from my place if I’m staying here.”

Phainon groaned, reaching blindly to pull the covers back over his head. “Five more minutes.”

“It’s already past noon,” Mydei pointed out, though his tone softened. He perched on the edge of the bed, nudging Phainon’s shoulder. “Come on. You can’t live on instant noodles forever.”

A muffled laugh came from the pillow. “I was doing fine until you showed up.”

“You call that living?” Mydei teased, but there was warmth under the words. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Phainon’s temple before pulling away. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me, we're going to fetch something to eat first and then I’m not hauling groceries alone.”

Phainon finally peeked up at him, eyes still heavy with sleep, but there was a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, sitting up and stretching, bones cracking loudly..

“You love me.” Mydei shrugged, already moving toward the dresser where Phainon had dumped half-folded clothes. He was surprised to realize that for the first time in weeks, the prospect of doing something so mundane—shopping, packing, going through daily motions—felt… good. Ordinary. Like a rhythm they could slip back into without thinking.

It was strange, almost laughable, that their first step toward living together again started with a grocery list.

Chapter Text

Looking at the top sand clock, time seemed to be frozen,

I failed to realize that bottom was broken.

And time has ran out ages ago

Another month has passed and neither of them had gathered the guts to explain their situation to their friends, keeping everyone in the dark was a nasty habit that now they shared. Even when Mydei had moved to Phainon's place, leaving his other apartment empty, no one noticed thanks to his previous decision of not sharing his address with nobody. Phainon had kept working as a hacker and kept himself under the radar, for everyone else he was still missing.

People, however, noticed Mydei's shift in demeanor, his health had begun to improve and his mood had improved to the point he was practically glowing. Many addressed it to moving on from the loss of his boyfriend and others realized that that façade didn't add up. The young businessesman was still hiding many things and in consequence ended up isolating himself despite the apparent improvements, but that was only noticed by his close circle that could do nothing but watch their friend disappear from their side. 

They respected their decisions but didn't agree with them. And the first one to snap was none other than Tribbios, who waltzed uninvited into his office, fully confident that she wouldn't be kicked out by her rather rude approach.

“Guess who got her driving license back!?” She exclaimed, barging in and placing her license on her forehead with a huge smile.

“I'm glad you got it back.” Mydei genuinely smiled at his friend, he was the cause of it getting removed in the first place —but not the only one either— and it was a relief to see she was doing fine, as he hadn't contacted her since he was at the hospital. 

A sharp pang of guilt twisted in his guts, Tribbios didn't seem to resent him but he could read her face clearly… Whatever she was going to ask she wouldn't take a no for an answer. Cold sweat was already forming on his temple as her smile turned mischievous.

“So to celebrate we're going to the beach!” She declared happily, sitting on the spinning chair in front of his desk and spinning on it once as it dragged closer to the desk. “You can ask your father for vacations, right?”

Vacations, beach, water… Nope, no. That was a bad idea. Phainon and him had already progressed so much on their plan, leaving would just put a delay on it and also he hadn't shared the news of his pregnancy with them yet, and concealing it was getting increasingly difficult each day— Hyacine gives him the nastiest side eyes each time he stepped into the hospital for the monthly checkup—. He was already on his second trimester and the signs were obvious. His employees hadn't realized as they don't really care what happens with their boss while they get paid in the end; and he had been avoiding his friends like the plague.

“You know I don't like the sea that much, so perhaps you can invite someone else instead.” He suggested with a tight smile.

“That would put you under stress, right?”  Her blue eyes were sharp for an instant, scanning him in a second, before returning to her doe eyed usual look. “You look better now, a little trip would help you relax.”

“Tribbie, perhaps we can go somewhere else.” She gave him a sly grin. Shit. He fell right into her hands.

“So, that's a yes.” 

“It depends.” he tried to argue back, but deep down he knows he lost the moment the red-haired woman crossed that door. “Where else can we go?”

“Oh! I know!” She beamed clasping her hands together. “There's this resort to where Agy and Naxy went on their ho—”

“That's not a good place.” He replied, Aglaea and Anaxagoras might not get along and seemingly hate each other—he hadn't met the man yet but everything he had heard from him gives him an idea of his personality—, but they're objective with their remarks. It wasn't related to their frayed and forced relationship, the place was simply awful.

“Ciphy said it wasn't bad.” She argued back, revealing that the platinum haired woman was involved in this idea too. “Plus, she's coming too and she doesn't like the sea that much either. It'll be fun.”

“Let's think of another place and I'll consider it.” 

She hummed, pretending not to have at least ten places in her mind already. “We can go to the mountains! There's some great spots for photos and Cas told me she once found a nice hot spring cabins there. It's quiet and relaxing.”

So Castorice and her girlfriend were the ones supporting Tribbios’ ideas, Mydei felt like he was going to pull the most coward move but it couldn't be helped.

“It sounds like we're going to be the thirdwheel.” He said with a ghost of a smile on his face. “That would be uncomfortable for them , so I'll pass. Let’s give them some privacy.”

“You have no right to say that.” She smiled, leaning with her elbows on his desk. “Phai and you were also glued at the hip each time we traveled, if someone has to complain it would be me.” 

His cheeks turned red with shame, and he forced himself to clear his throat. “But Phainon isn't around, is he?” He said with a feigned sad voice that the red-haired woman seemed to buy as her eyes widened, feeling awful with her words.

“I'm sorry Dei. I didn't mean it that way.” God bless her soul, perhaps she would give up on the topic already and— “I guess we had been out of touch lately and we think you shouldn't stay alone while going through all of this.”

“I appreciate the concern, really.” Guilt twisted in his heart painfully, Phainon and him had been making them suffer too, and he couldn't bear to witness the damage. “But I don't think it's wise for me to suddenly leave my job.”

“Why? Aren't you the big boss’ son?” She joked, half teasing and half seriously. “Don't tell me you're grounded or something like that.”

The blonde chuckled. “I'm very past the age for getting scolded or grounded by my old man.” 

“So, is it your mother?” He shook his head as answer, if anything Gorgo would have already sent him on vacation with the news from months ago. He was the one refusing. “Then why?”

“I was sick for too long, so I have a lot of pending work.” Half a lie, half a truth again. He has pending work because he had been postponing it to the point it just became a mountain. “I doubt I can just leave.”

She hummed again both in disappointment and understanding. “Well, in the hypothetical case you didn't have pending work, where would you want to go?”

Now he was the one humming and putting a hand under his chin deep in thought. The beach would just reveal his pregnancy right away for obvious reasons—plus he really hates the sea, he had nearly died there, he has no intentions of going near—, he knows he would have to eventually tell them but he doesn't feel like it is the right moment for that. Too many things were at stake after all. And the mountains… He doubts the strain of climbing and the hot spring would be good for his pregnancy, but he could conceal it because of the cold and warm clothing, and he doesn't necessarily need to step inside the hot springs. Even so…

"Is there another option?” 

“Mmm… Perhaps we can visit Phai’s hometown!” She chirped enthusiastically. "Yesterday I saw a documentary of their customs and the town seems lovely! Small but with a lot of things to see.”

His hand dropped to his lap. “Did you finish watching the documentary?”

“Hehe not really… I fell asleep while watching it. I was really focused on fixing the engine of my last project on my desk so I put it as background noise and ended up falling asleep there.” She admitted with a shameful blush on her cheeks. “ My neck hurt because of that!” She complained, before remembering the main topic. “Why did you ask?”

“Will you finish watching it?” 

“Perhaps.” She straightened her posture, pausing to look at him “Just tell me what's the problem with it?” 

“Aedes Elysiae doesn’t exist anymore.” He sighed, Tribbios’ expression turned into something between shock and guilt. “It was a ghost town at first but now it’s a factory zone. There's nothing to visit there.” He said in a harsher tone than what he intended.

Uncomfortable and heavy silence followed his statement. The environment turned completely cold and uneasy. Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything but politely refused, he had been keeping his friends in the dark for too long already; what was another lie of omission? He regretted sharing that fact with the red-haired woman when she just wanted to help. There was no need to crush her good intentions like that.

He was a jerk.

“I just keep messing up.” She bit her lip looking to the side, her hair curtained her expression but her voice gave her away. “I'm sorry, Dei.” She stood up abruptly, almost knocking her chair to the floor. “I should leave.”

“You don't need to apologize. “ He said in a hurry, standing up and following her steps. “I didn't mean to make it sound like that. Your idea just caught me out of guard, that's all.”

“I get it. However, it doesn't change the fact that it was insensitive of me to—”

“Don't worry.” He gave her a soft smile. “I've heard worse—”

She flicked her finger at his forehead, making him take a step back.

“Dei that's not comforting!” Tribbios chastised as if she was talking to a child. She sighed, putting her hands on her hips like a tired parent with a dozen children. “Besides, that's not the point! I'm worried about you. We're worried, you seem to be doing better now but we know you're hiding something from us but we don't have a way to prove it.” A heavy exhale left her lips before she continued. “Let us help you to ease your mind amidst this chaos.”

Hiding something was the understatement of the year, Mydei had to bit back the need to scoff at those words. Instead, he walked back to his desk and sat again. 

“You've already done enough.” He declared genuinely. He didn't mean it to sound rude but when he looked up at Tribbios' eyes shining with unshed tears he realized his voice had landed a completely different message. He quickly rushed to speak again, "I-I mean you saved my life back then!” He stuttered. “I already owe you so much. I don't wanna abuse your kindness.”

She let out a hollow chuckle, “Dei, have you ever stopped to think that I’d like to see all my friends doing well?” The red-haired woman combed one of her locks behind her ear with her fingers before continuing, an angry habit of hers. “This isn't business Mydeimos.” If she was already calling him his full name, it was because he was screwed already. “This is friendship, so I don't expect anything in return each time I do something for you. I help you because I want to.”

Defeated, he said,“I apologize.” 

“Don't worry.” She waved him off already walking towards the door, clearly more stressed than when she entered.

“Alright ,the mountains is it.” He blurted out before he could stop his mouth. 

“Really?” She asked in a mix of excitement and confusion.

“Really… I've worried everyone enough, so it's fine.” He reassured her, he couldn't take his word back even though he was internally berating himself. Why did he agree?!

Her grin bloomed before he could take it back.

“Perfect! I’ll handle the bookings — you won’t regret this,” Tribbios said, already halfway to the door.

The door shut softly behind her, and the quiet that followed felt heavier than before. Mydei didn’t move. The faint hum of the air vents filled the room, steady and indifferent.

He rubbed at his temple, then let his hand drift down to his stomach. The motion was automatic now, instinctive. Nothing answered him from within — only the dull ache that came with overthinking.

“I'm so stupid.” He groaned, focusing back on the endless paperwork on his computer. He would have to talk with Phainon…

Not as if asking his approval or permission, but his opinion and thoughts. They had been working on something for too long just to be put on a pause because of his recklessness.

“... And I kind of agreed to her plan.” He admitted to his boyfriend, letting out a sight of defeat. The couple had been having dinner in Phainon's apartment which felt more lively and ordered now that they began living together once again.

The white-haired man bursted out laughing, the silverware falling loudly back into the ceramic of the dish. He looked fondly at his boyfriend not looking concerned in the slightest about the news.

“Dei, I can't believe that even after all these years Tribbios’ puppy eyes are still effective on you!” He laughed a little bit more.

Mydei blushed lightly before arguing back,”You speak as if you were any better than me.”

“I admit I'm not.” He finally stopped giggling while speaking. “But it doesn't mean I can't find it hilarious how you still fall for those when she's older than us.”

“Tribbios can be very persuasive when she wants.” He bit on the meat on his fork with unnecessary strength, making him bite the fork instead. 

Mydei winced, putting down the utensil, while Phainon asked if he was alright at the sudden reaction, he murmured an explanation while he regained his bearings. He sat a little bit more straight on the chair, steeling himself before making the question that had been plaguing his mind since morning.

“Do you have any inconvenience with my decision?” He asked with a serious voice that made Phainon blink completely lost.

“Mydei I've never and I’ll never try to control your decisions.” He answered, solemn as if he was trying to make a vow. “What happened? It is weird of you to ask something like that… Unless it was a warning. In that case, don't mind —”

“Phainon as much as I've always appreciated your support…I'm supposed to be supporting you right now, not the other way around.”

“I'm not sure if I'm following.” Phainon replied in a hushed murmur, the food was getting cold but neither of them would continue to eat, the white-haired man just played with the fork in his grip, grouping the food in a corner of the dish while keeping his eyes fixed on his boyfriend.

Mydeimos on the other hand, had been unconsciously playing with the corner of the napkin folding and unfolding it in an uncomfortable gesture. He realized that he would need to be straight if he wanted an actual answer from his lover instead of more deflections.

“We have been working on something all this time. Wouldn't this sudden change on schedule throw everything out of place?” He explained trying not to get into details and go to the tangent. “It would mean a delay on the dates we set to start putting everything into action.”

Phainon chuckled, blue eyes looked at him with affection. “Mydei, I’ve always regretted dragging you into all of this, you should be happy and relax. You're carrying our child, that's already too taxing on you. You should be taking care of your health and resting, putting more duties upon yourself will just wither you— I don't know if I made myself clear, but I'll make sure to thank Tribbios when I have the chance.”

“You underestimate me.” Annoyance was written down those golden eyes. Phainon was really looking down at him? “I’m not weak. I’m not backing out from this, I've chosen to be here, to do this… Don't make it look as if everything was for naught.” He could feel the familiar burn of tears pooling on his eyes but refusing to fall.

Pregnancy hormones made him more sensitive and made his mood shift quickly… Too quickly.

“Mydei I didn't mean it like that.” Phainon placed a hand on top of his, ruining soothing circles on it. “I'm concerned for your well-being, that's all. You don't need all this stress but I really appreciate your help, we have done everything faster than I ever could.” He paused, standing up and walked around the table to reach his side. Once Phainon was at his side he knelt down on one knee and took his hand slowly, carefully as if he was the most valuable treasure on earth and then he kissed each one of his fingers. “Thank you Mydeimos, I couldn't have done this without you.” 

Then he moved closer pushing the chair he was sitting on to the side and got even closer to press a kiss on the baby bump on his mid-section—that had become more visible each day— and then he rested his forehead on top of it.

“Phainon—”

“I love you. I love you both.” Phainon expressed with such solemnity that made his heart jump and run fast in his chest. 

Phainon stayed there for a moment, breathing softly against him, before looking up with a faint, crooked grin.

“But if you’re asking whether I mind you going away for a few days…” He tilted his head, his silver hair brushing against Mydei’s stomach as he spoke. “Of course not. You deserve it. And I’ll sleep better 

knowing you’re somewhere quiet instead of hunched over spreadsheets at two in the morning.”

Mydei gave a short laugh despite himself, fingers brushing through Phainon’s hair. “You’re one to talk about sleeping habits.”

“That’s why I’m not arguing,” Phainon said, kissing the side of his belly before standing up. “If I told you to rest, I’d have to set an example — and we both know I’m terrible at that.”

“Phai—”

“No, hear me out.” He cupped Mydei’s cheek with one hand, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles against the skin. “Go with them. Breathe air, relax. We have already been going for so long without a pause. What's a couple of days off? .” His voice softened, almost tender to a fault. “You don’t have to carry everything at once.”

Mydei’s throat tightened. “I just don’t like being away from you,” he admitted, low, barely audible.

Pregnancy hormones he guesses, but the truth was that he was scared that if he goes away everything would vanish like waking up from a dream. They had already been apart forcefully, thanks to a truth too painful to share and one who had united them once again, it doesn't erase the fact that the separation hurt.

Phainon smiled — that small, crooked one that always looked like he was trying not to fall harder for him. “Then don't be away for too long. I’ll keep your side of the bed warm.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Hopeless,” he agreed, leaning down until their foreheads touched. “But hopelessly yours.”

“Then I'm leaving on Friday, I'm picking up the girls this time.” He explained briefly how he cannot let Tribbios nor Cipher drive unless they wanted to be detained for breaking every speed limit.

Phainon just nodded along before asking where those mountains were, concerned for his health and his pregnancy.

“I don't know yet. Tribbios said she would handle the reservations and everything else, so I guess it is more of a surprise.” He explained, blue eyes looked at him with concern. 

Snow and mountains didn't sound like the best combination for the white-haired man. Awful memories were linked to those, yet he forced a smile. It wasn't like they were going to the exact same place and he had been keeping an eye on Lygus, so it was safe to say that the place Mydeimos was going was safe. However, he couldn't stop himself before saying:

“Just promise me you won't stay alone under any circumstances, please.” 

Everything seemed to click on Mydeimos head as he smiled softly, nodding and placing a kiss on top of his head. “You have my word.”

The morning of the trip was rather uneventful, Cipher and Castorice weren't morning persons so waking up in the early morning and placing their suitcases in the trunk of the car was already the most they could do. They engaged in conversation just barely and when they reached the main road they were already fast asleep again in the backseat, leaning against each other with their energy spent.

Tribbios was in the copilot seat giving Mydei instructions of where to go and which road to take, thankfully his car was a 4x4 because otherwise they'll be stuck with the state of the road the red-haired woman made him take. She just smiled apologetically, promising that it'll be worth it to arrive at the place at sunrise. He forced himself to believe her because he would rather be warmly tangled in his covers with Phainon at that hour, it was freezing and the calefaction in the car couldn't do much against the cold.

Thankfully it wasn't snowing, so the road was mostly clear, it was obvious that it wasn't frequented. It rather seemed used for hiking and no one at all. It seemed endless, and just as he was about to ask to which end of the world they had brought him, he spotted the cabins Tribbios told him about. He sighed securely parking near the entrance, so he could keep an eye on his car once in a while.

“Hey sleepyheads,” Tribbios shook the couple in the back seat, trying to wake them up. “we've arrived. Cas, you said you wanted to take photos of the sunrise, c’mon. Wake up!” She whisper yelled, effectively stirring both of them awake.

“We're going!” Castorice shot her lavender eyes open fishing for her professional camera in her bag. “Got it! Let's go! We gotta have a photo together here!” 

Apparently her energy was fully recharged as she almost skipped on her step, cheeks red from excitement —or perhaps the cold— as she walked towards the viewpoint, her eyes were almost shining at the scenery, taking photos left and right before focusing on the environment. Her overexcitement died down once she turned around and saw everyone else watching her with a fond expression.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” She said sheepishly, lavender eyes flicking downwards as a furious blush spread on her face. 

“Don't worry! We're here on vacation, we're supposed to do whatever we want.” Cipher chimed in giving a thumbs up to her girlfriend. “Let's take a group photo before signing in at the reception.”

They hurried together in a spot that showed both the beautiful scenery and the cabins in the background. They smiled looking at the camera that was placed precariously on top of a bunch of rocks.

“Everyone say ‘Chiaroscuro’!” Tribbios suggested as the countdown beep of the timer of the camera turned louder, signaling it was about to snap the picture.

“Ha? Why? It sounds weird.” Cipher couldn't keep her smile as she tried to reason with the oldest one of them.

“It doesn't make you smile by sound…” Mydei reasoned agreeing with Cipher. “ Plus it already took the photo.”

“I wanted a natural photo from y’all. No tight smiles that seem as if you don't get along with each other.” Tribbios smiled, looking proud of her idea.

“We could have said “whiskey” instead.” Cipher argued back, rarely did Mydei take Cipher's side in arguments but this time he had to agree and nod along with her. “Even saying our nicknames would have worked!”

“Would you say Agy out loud? Like when you were small?” Tribbie blocked with feigned innocence.

“Nope! Aglaea is not even here!”

“You said that our nicknames would work. And Dei agreed!” She chuckled. “Would you say Snowy out loud my dear friends?”

“No! / Yes!” Cipher and Mydei spoke at unison, the platinum haired woman was having a blast watching the blonde’s face turn red from shame. “Tribbios, we aren't children.”

Castorice had silently walked and set the timer once again. “Chiaroscuro.”

“Princess homebody, how can you do this to me?” Cipher fake cried snuggling closer to her. “Chiaroscuro.”

With no other option Mydei repeated the word along Tribbios, who giggled happily at their indulgence. 

“Chiaroscuro!”

The flash went off and the photo was taken this time printing after a while, apparently Castorice had configured that function while they were distracted. She shook the photo after a while trying to make it show the image faster. “Mydei, you're practically glowing in this photo!” She excitedly showed the photo to him. “I've just seen this kind of glow in a photo when one of my friends was with child!”

She wasn't lying, but dread crawled at his back. He just nodded as an answer pretending not to be interested. He had been planning to tell them about his pregnancy during the trip but at this rate they would find out on their own. The thick fur of his coat did wonders covering his belly but once inside the reception, it was so hot that everyone began taking off their gloves, scarfs, and jackets… Except him.

He just removed his scarf and gloves pretending to be busy with his phone not to remove his jacket as Tribbie was hunched over the receptionist desk handling their reservations. Cipher looked suspiciously at him and apparently the sentiment was shared by her girlfriend who tapped at her phone furiously, trying to pretend not to be looking at him.

“Say Mydei, how have you been lately? We haven't seen you since you fainted at your place. Aglaea says you moved and Hyacine told us that you were just anemic.” Castorice paused typing on her phone to look at the interaction between his girlfriend and Mydei. “Is it really fine for you to come with us?”

“Yes, I needed a change of air and Tribbios was very persuasive.” He tried to joke but the couple just looked at each other and nodded.

“You must be so lonely without Phainon. We miss him too.” Castorice said, deliberately choosing a mood downer to see his reaction. 

Mydei didn't catch the clue fast enough. 

“I miss him a lot. I wish we could have come together with him.” His words were too shallow for someone who in Aglaea's words ‘was ripping at the seams.’ They just gave them confirmation to their suspicions.

They looked at each other with hurt and betrayal, but decided not to say a word about it to the blonde. Pretending everything was fine, but the environment was already dampened.

“Say Dei, why don't you take off your coat?” Tribbios said as she walked closer with the room's keys. “It's burning here.” She wiped sweat from her eyebrow to prove her point further.

“It's fine really. It's not that bad.” He said a little bit too quickly that everyone noticed something was off.

“What are you hiding from us Mydei?” The red-haired woman asked in a too cheerful tone, trying to mask her own disappointment at how he keeps shutting them off.

“Nothing—” Mydei paused and looked at his friends, they already looked worn down from trying to cheer him up and noticing how he kept making their life difficult. “Actually… I have some news to share.”

They looked at him expectantly.

“But this is not the place for such news!” He declared, grabbing a key from Tribbios hand and retreating like a coward. He winced at his own words but this was not how he wanted to share the truth. They stared at him in stunned silence. “I'll go get changed and then I'll tell you. I promise.”

Mydei grabbed his suitcases and practically ran to the cabin numbered on the key, closing the door behind him before anyone could follow. He heard Cipher’s muffled complaint through the wood  that he couldn't leave her hanging like that. He stood there for a long moment, letting the quiet seep in. The faint laughter of his friends outside reached him through the window — distant, muffled, as if belonging to another world entirely. He slipped off his boots, then his coat, and caught his reflection in the tall mirror by the bed. 

It startled him.

He hadn’t really looked at himself in weeks — not beyond the hurried glances in fogged bathroom mirrors or half-lit windows. Slowly he began undressing until he was only in his underwear. His abdomen curved softly outward; his baby. Phainon's baby. Everything was going to be fine, yet he couldn't help but feel suffocated. He has been lying to everyone in his pursuit for truth, hiding exactly that.

He’d been lying to everyone, weaving little reassurances so they wouldn’t worry, pretending this was something he could manage alone. But every silence, every omission, was cutting them too.

His gaze flicked lower. Love bites trailed down his collarbone, across his now tender and soft chest. Some were new — deep wine-colored bruises that ached faintly when he brushed them. Others had already begun to fade, like ghostly signatures on skin. They looked almost obscene now, scattered around the small rise of his stomach. He had been selfishly enjoying having Phainon all for himself and he felt like scum on earth for doing so.

Mydei had wanted to be Phainon's priority, but now he just feels guilty for being the priority in his life. 

He sank onto the edge of the bed, the springs creaking under his weight. His reflection wavered in the mirror — a body caught between ruin and renewal.

He wasn't alone now, but who knows for how long? Life felt just like a long dream he had yet to wake up. Phainon could even die while executing their little plan, his friends will feel betrayed when they learn the whole truth, and even his parents would feel disappointed. His chest hurt at the thought.

He only had his baby.

A soft knock came at the door. Mydei didn’t answer. It snapped him out of his spiral of self-hatred. He quickly redressed, placing his coat back on to hide his belly. He cleared his throat as if it could erase all his thoughts.

“Mydei, open up,” Tribbios’s voice came through, muffled but gentle. “We brought tea.”

He hesitated, then stood up and cracked the door open. Sure enough, the redhead stood there with a thermos and four mismatched mugs in her hands, Cipher and Castorice right behind her with the look of people who refused to leave without answers.

He sighed and stepped aside to let them in.

They didn’t pounce immediately. Tribbios poured the tea while Cipher made herself comfortable on the bed, and Castorice perched on the chair near the window. The silence stretched, awkward but not hostile.

Finally, Cipher said with feigned calm in her voice, “You promised you’d tell us.”

Mydei rubbed at the back of his neck. “I know.” He sat down, fingers tightening around his own mug even though it was too hot to drink. “I just… didn’t know how to say it.”

“Start anywhere,” Tribbios said, trying for a light tone but failing to hide the concern in her eyes. “We’ve already ruled out ‘terminal illness,’ so that’s good news, right?”

That earned a small laugh from Mydei. “Not terminal, no.”

Castorice tilted her head. “Then what is it? You’re healthy enough to drive up a mountain at dawn, so…”

He took a deep breath and let his jacket slide off his shoulders. The movement revealed the faint swell under his sweater — small, but unmistakable once you knew what to look for. The room fell completely silent.

“Mydei…” Tribbios whispered, eyes wide.

He forced himself to meet their gazes, heart pounding. “I’m pregnant.”

Cipher blinked once. “Like — actually?”

“No you see, this is a prank.” He deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He tried to ease the atmosphere like that but it did not have the effect intended.

For a heartbeat, no one spoke — and then Castorice covered her mouth, her lavender eyes shining. “You’re serious? Mydei, that’s… wow!”

Cipher’s reaction was more chaotic. “Wait, what? You were pregnant when you fainted that day? And you didn’t tell us?!”

Tribbios smacked her arm lightly. “Cipher!”

“What? I’m happy for him! Just — surprised!” She turned back to Mydei, visibly softening. “Okay, okay, but still — you scared the hell out of us back then.”

Mydei laughed weakly, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I didn’t mean to hide it for so long. I just… wasn’t ready. There was so much happening, and—”

“You didn’t want us to worry,” Tribbios finished for him, smiling gently.

He nodded. “Something like that.”

Castorice stood and walked over to him, crouching a little so their eyes met. “We’d worry anyway. That’s what friends do.” Her voice softened further. “You don’t have to carry everything alone, Mydeimos”

Mydei’s throat tightened, but he smiled. “You guys really aren’t mad?”

Tribbios snorted. “Mad? Maybe a little. But only because you didn’t let us throw you a baby shower.”

Cipher groaned dramatically. “Oh no, now she’s planning it already.”

Castorice laughed, sat down, linking her arm with Mydei’s. “Too late. You unleashed her.”

Mydei smiled faintly, shaking his head — but he felt light. The secret that had weighed on him so long was out, and instead of judgment, all he got was warmth.

Tribbios nudged his shoulder. “Next time, just tell us sooner, okay? No more grand dramatic reveals at mountain resorts.”

“I’ll try,” he said, chuckling.

“Good,” she said, raising her mug. “To Mydei — and to whatever little troublemaker he’s bringing into the world.”

The others echoed her toast, mugs clinking softly in the cozy cabin air.

They began drinking the tea before it got cold, the conversation was getting carried mostly by Castorice and Tribbios who were the most excited by the news, completely ignoring the blonde man sitting next to them. Suddenly the topic shifted back to the theories they had about his sudden distancing with them, he could just laugh and deny many of them.

“Coming to think about it… Cipher, you do owe me money.” The platinum haired woman stiffened at her girlfriend's words. “I accept transferences.” She declared already pulling out her phone with the code to scan like a queen ordering her subjects.

“Princess—” Cipher began, sheepishly scratching her nape. “I didn't think you would take our little bet seriously.”

“Oh?” Castorice's eyes glinted with amusement and something else. “Well, I did.”

“C’mon you can't be serious.” Cipher almost fell to her knees in front of the lavender haired woman. “It is a lot.”

Mydei was amused, he tilted his head a little to the side giving Cipher a smug grin before taking a sip from his tea that was almost cold now. “Cipher, you said that you would always uphold your word, why chicken out now?”

Blue eyes glared furiously at him. “This is none of your business.”

“Indulge me, for the little one.” He smiled mockingly at his friend. “What was even the bet about?”

“Already using your kid as leverage, you're so mean Mydeimos.” Cipher said, looking at both Castorice and Mydei that wore the same amused expression on their faces. 

“I admit I'm curious too.” Tribbios chimed in, leaning against the wall. Now they were three people that demanded answers from her like spoiled royalty. “Can you share the bet with us Ciphy?”

Castorice nodded as if giving her permission to speak, and it just made the platinum haired woman groan with frustration. Defeated and betrayed by her own friends.

“I bet all my savings —which are a lot— just because her theory was too far-fetched to be true.” She dragged a hand across her face in exasperation before continuing. “And it turns out… She was right! How could I guess that Mydeimos was pregnant all along!? If you ask me, my theory of him hiding Phainon all along made more sense!”

Mydei chocked with the tea at her words. He coughed trying to force the water out from his windpipe. Cipher blue eyes glinted with amusement like the cat who got the cream.

“Oh my,” she smiled, patting his back softly, too softly for someone supposedly trying to help him not to choke. “Does our little prince have something else he wants to share?”

“I-I wanted to laugh,” he lied, and she caught on to it instantly. 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever that helps you sleep at night~.”

“I'm serious!” He coughed, “It sounds ridiculous, Cipher.”

“It doesn't matter, pay me.” Castorice stole Cipher's attention back again. 

“Princess, don't be so mean. When have I ever made you pay our—”

“Always,every single time.” She answered flatly, “this is the first time I win, so go on.”

“This is a draw,” Cipher argued back. “No one has to pay the other.”

“No, both have to pay each other then.”

“Do you remember I'm still here?” Mydei said with a quiet voice, and it only earned a glare from the couple that made him retreat and sigh in defeat.

Cipher and Castorice soon retreated to their room, as their argument got more heated and they needed privacy. Tribbios and Mydei looked at each other in silence then the redhead decided to speak, leaving glued to his place.

“I already knew you were pregnant since that day I visited you in your office.” She admitted. “Hyacine's insistence on giving you space was a little bit off from the beginning, the sudden anemia and then you distanced yourself from everyone.” Blue eyes locked at his with seriousness that reminded him of her actual age that she often buried under her childish persona. “Aglaea told me about your meeting with her, and I feared you were developing paranoia. You were against police intervention, yet you were concerned for our safety. You kept looking for answers for Phainon's disappearance and then you stopped. Or you hit a dead end or something too dangerous that made you stop all together.”

“Tribbios— I just,” He paused, not knowing how to explain himself; feeling like a child under her gaze that looked at him with equal parts of concern and disappointment. “I found out about my pregnancy when I woke up at the hospital… I did not take the news well until my mother came to visit and we talked about it.” He admitted with a slow and paused speech. “ When I returned to the apartment, someone had already barged in and stole everything of value. I did call the police Tribbios. When they came—” His voice wavered even if he tried to speak slowly not to let it break, the tears pooling on his eyes told another story. “I realized I was alone, I was fighting against something outside of my control, everyone pretended not to know a thing and then they asked favors in order to get my case going unlike they did with Phainon's.”

“They asked you money!?” The redhead features were twisted with a mixture of shock and anger. He let out a small and hollow laugh, before shaking his head. She tilted her head in confusion, not having a clue what else they could have asked from someone as powerful as Mydeimos.

“Sex.”

Anger and pain were written all over her face, while Mydei just looked hollow as if all the energy was sucked out from him. A shell from who he once was. 

“Dei, you— Are you- No, but how.” She bit her lit before she blurted out something that could end up making the blonde feel more pain. “I'm sorry, I couldn't be there for you.”

He smiled, “Thank you, but at that moment my health wasn't at its best… You see I have a low placenta so stress just made it more difficult for me to react. I managed to get that officer off of me and kick him out of my apartment… I decided to move and not to get you involved.” Tribbios smiled sadly, grabbing his hand between hers. “Phainon disappearance was something more complex, and I was set on getting answers as to why… Thanks to Aglaea I got the contact of his childhood friend. I met Cyrene and learnt about their past.” He stopped himself there, deciding that it was better to make a lie from then forwards. “I decided to stop there. I had to focus on my child first.”

“So that's how you learnt Aedes Elysiae did not exist anymore.” He nodded. “Dei, you've been through a lot. Phainon must be suffering a lot too, and it's safe to guess he doesn't know about his child.”

He chuckled a little, it was misinterpreted as a sob by Tribbios. She launched herself to his arms hugging him tightly, mindful of his pregnant belly but warm nonetheless. 

Phainon knows about the pregnancy. She isn't mistaken, they had suffered and endured a lot, Phainon more than Mydei, but it wasn't a competition to know who had it worse. He just wanted to support his boyfriend to be free from the shackles of his past. Soon it will be over, he's sure of it. He will make it happen. However it isn't a truth he could share, not yet, or perhaps never.

“Please don't tell this to anyone else. I'm fine with being seen as a jerk.” Because I am a jerk, a liar and a selfish person. 

“Mydei— This- You shouldn't be shouldering everything on your own!” She yelled on the verge of tears, shaking her head refusing his request.

“Please Tribbios, I promise not to distance myself again!”

Her gaze softened, she petted his hair slowly. “Very well, then… I'll keep this secret.”

Tribbios’ promise lingered between them like the scent of tea — warm, fragile, and fleeting. They didn’t speak for a while after that. She stayed close, her fingers still in his hair, until his trembling slowed and the tightness in his chest eased.

The faint hum of the calefactor filled the background. Outside, snow had started to fall — thin, quiet flakes that vanished the instant they touched the window.

When he finally lifted his head, the exhaustion in his eyes had dulled into something gentler. “Thank you,” he said, and though his voice was hoarse, the weight behind it was sincere.

“Don’t thank me,” Tribbios replied. “Just let us stay, okay? We don’t want to lose you again.”

He nodded, smiling faintly. The kind of smile that doesn’t reach the eyes, but at least tries to.

After that, the trip slipped into an easy rhythm.

They woke up late, shared breakfast that always stretched into noon, and spent the afternoons walking the frost-bitten trails that cut through the pines. Tribbios had forbidden him from entering to the hot springs unless he wanted to land on the hospital again, they even made a videocall with Hyacine who ended up scolding him for even considering doing it. Cipher and Castorice bickered more than usual, though everyone could tell it was just their way of keeping things light. Tribbios insisted on taking a photo every morning — “for the baby album,” she said — and Mydei had stopped protesting after the third day.

There were moments when the ache in his chest returned — when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a window or when the wind carried the echo of Phainon’s laughter in his memory — but they were softer now. Manageable.

At night, when the others were asleep, he’d stand outside the cabin, hand resting lightly over his stomach, and whisper half-formed promises into the cold air.

His pregnancy was common knowledge in his friend group by now and Aglaea was the one who always called to check on him and suggested that he stop overworking himself. Little did she know that he had his own personal reminder each time he arrived home from work.

“My love you should really go to sleep, you're already tired.” Phainon began saying, standing up from his seat on the floor forgetting his laptop that was overheating and its fan noise was loud enough to fill the entire room. 

“Phainon it's seven p.m. Besides, today's work was light, nothing stressful.” He deadpanned, dropping into the couch unceremoniously and lying there. “I admit I'm hungry though.” Mydei almost salivated at the thought of fresh food, lately he had been into salads and salty food instead of his usual sweet and more meaty food—he enjoyed everything Phainon cooked for him nonetheless. “What's there for dinner?”

Perhaps Phainon did fried chicken or—

His excitement died down when he noticed Phainon had all but stopped in his tracks when he mentioned the topic of food. 

“Phainon don't you tell me you forgot to eat again!?” He stated in a tired and exasperated voice.

“I completely lost track of time again. Sorry.” He excused himself, trying to walk towards the kitchen to make some last minute attempt at cooking.

“And you have the nerve to nag at me about not overworking myself.” He sighed, sitting down properly and watching his phone battery about to die. “Quite the example you're giving our child.”

“Mydei…” He pouted at him from the kitchen counter, in the angle he knew he could see his face. “Don't make me look bad with them.” Mydei chuckled. “Seriously, what if when they grow up they think I'm unreliable. Or worse, irresponsible!?”

“They won't. Trust me.” He said, dragging his feet towards the charger forgotten in their room and leaving his phone there. He pocketed his wallet and walked towards the kitchen. “Forget about cooking, I'll fetch something from the restaurant below.”

“We can order delivery.” Phainon suggested, already picking up his phone. It soon was snatched from his hands by a not so amused Mydeimos. “Hey!”

“Is your brain even working? We cannot order delivery.” He pointed out, even with all the lengths Phainon had gone to secure their location it was still too risky. They could be tracked down or even killed were someone to catch their location… Or both.

“It's snowing, I'll go grab something. You wait.” Phainon argued standing at the door while golden eyes glowed with fondness and faint annoyance. 

“Who’s the one hiding? Me or you? It's rush hour, the restaurant must be full so there's more chances—” He was interrupted by the white haired man that could no longer maintain eye contact with him.

“‘Of being recognized’. I know, but—”

“We're in the same building. It won't take long, okay? Don't worry.” He reassured him, picking up the keys and placing them in his pocket. 

“I should be pampering you!” He complained; yet he complied and moved to the side. “You shouldn't be doing so much for me.”

Phainon was hopeless like a puppy trying to help its owner, rolling his eyes with fondness, Mydei gave him a faint kiss on the lips. “I'll be back soon.”

Defeated, the blue-eyed man nodded. His eyes shifted back to his computer that began to sound like crazy.

“Is everything alright?” Mydei asked before unlocking the main door. 

“Yeah, it's just that someone used an AI to fight me back. Ugh! That's annoying. It'll take me a couple of minutes to erase it.” He looked annoyed at the innocent machine that kept making a scandal. “I’ll solve it in the meantime.”

Not looking convinced at all, the blonde nodded and stepped outside their shared apartment. The door clicked shut behind him..

The muffled sound of the city bled in — the crunch of snow, the distant hum of traffic, and then, nothing. Only the faint mechanical whir of Phainon’s laptop filled the apartment again.

He sat back down, running a hand through his hair. “A couple of minutes,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the cascade of code running across the screen. His reflection on the glass looked tired, almost ghostlike in the flickering blue light.

The AI fought his progress  — rewriting, countering, fracturing his code in recursive loops. Each line demanded his attention. Each failure taunted him. He barely noticed the time crawl past, only the adrenaline, the rhythm, the constant clicking of keys.

Outside, the snow thickened. The city dulled into silence.

At some point, he blinked up and realized the room was pitch dark except for the pale light of his screen. His tea had gone cold. The heater had turned itself off hours ago.

The clock read 12:19 a.m.

Phainon frowned. The restaurant downstairs closed at ten and Mydei left almost at eight.

Perhaps I didn't realize he returned, as engrossed as he was with his computer.

He rubbed his face and stood, groaning as the stiffness in his back caught up with him. “Mydei?” he called out toward the hall. “Did you fall asleep already?”

No answer.

He stepped into their room — empty. The blanket Mydei liked to wrap around himself still lay folded on the bedroom chair. The lights by the entrance were off, the key rack missing the one he’d taken.

“Mydei?” he tried again, louder now, expecting a sleepy groan, a teasing remark. Nothing.

A prickle of unease crept up his spine. He reached for his phone, intending to call him — and froze.

Mydei’s phone sat on the nightstand, plugged into the charger.

He stared at it for several seconds, his brain refusing to process what that meant. Then it hit him all at once, like the floor giving way beneath his feet.

He left without it.

He left without his phone.

And without his gloves.

The apartment’s silence suddenly became unbearable. Phainon rushed to the door, yanking it open like Mydei might be standing right there, balancing a takeout bag and ready to complain about the snow.

But the corridor was empty. The air cold.

He stumbled back inside, fumbling for his own phone. No new messages. No missed calls. Only a reminder from Cyrene, sent at nine-thirty:

“Tell Mydei that I wanna be invited to the baby shower too. He didn’t answer my call again.”

The timestamp stared back at him like a wound.

Phainon called him anyway — once, twice, three times. The phone lit up on the bed each time, mocking him with its silence.

He grabbed his coat, forgetting to zip it, bolting down the hallway. The elevator doors took too long, so he ran down the stairs, his breath coming fast and uneven.

The security guard downstairs blinked at him, startled.

“Did you see Mydei leave earlier? Blond hair, golden eyes, with a red tattoo under his eye, with a black sweater—he came to the restaurant on the first floor to get food.”

The guard frowned, thinking. “No, sir. Not since afternoon, I think.”

That wasn’t possible. Phainon saw him leave. He heard the door close.

He ran outside. The snow had thickened into a white blur — soft, soundless, merciless. The restaurant’s sign below flickered weakly; chairs stacked, lights off.

He ran across the almost empty street, looking for Mydei at every corner in the square. He ignored the way his feet ached meeting the snow without proper clothing, or how his fingers turned an angry red and how his body struggled to keep moving. 

He had endured worse, Mydei must be just around the corner, he must be freezing and —

Before he realized he had already ran desperately towards Mydei office, the guard on the entrance recognized him and rushed to his side believing he had just reappeared—he was declared missing after all. The kind guard helped him inside and gave him some warm coffee from a machine as he saw his hair and clothes damp with snow and him shivering from the cold.

Phainon just held the hot coffee in his hands, not taking a sip, completely frozen and not feeling the heat radiating from it. He felt ice forming in his guts, he looked at the guard almost pleadingly, placing all his hope in his answer.

Perhaps Mydei returned to his office to search for something and fell asleep there. Pregnancy made him more tired than usual.

“Thank you,” Phainon began, licking his almost purple and split lips. “Can I ask you something?” The man nodded eagerly. “Have you seen Mydei?”

“No, since this afternoon sir. He left towards home as always, I don't know his current address but I can try to contact him for you.” The man scrambled to get his phone out from his pocket, Phainon stopped him placing his cold hands on the man's wrists. “Sir?”

“Don't worry. I just—” He bit his lip, he wanted to cry and keep looking for his boyfriend. But the situation has changed too much. “I think it's better if you continue with the protocol.”

The guard nodded, dialing to the police and reporting about the missing model's whereabouts.

Phainon barely heard a word that came from the guard anymore, the coffee had gone cold in his hands, his mind was so far away, even when the police arrived he couldn't focus on whatever useless stuff they asked. His head was spinning and his breathing was getting laboured, he wanted nothing but to puke and weep from the sheer fear he felt at the moment.

Mydei had disappeared.

Right under his nose.

He couldn't forgive himself for allowing this to happen and being so useless to stop it.

Chapter Text

Ashes like snowflakes are just the frozen picture,

of a love that once burnt so bright that destroyed itself.

Clearly never following a stranger to an unknown place is something every human being was taught as a child. Let alone following someone you know is dangerous to a an secluded place, it’s a fear etched on everyone's soul. 

Ironically enough, Mydeimos couldn't begin to phantom the level of stupidity it required from him to had followed Lygus willingly to a secluded exit of the restaurant. He had followed the old man to his car with his own two feet and now was stuck in this situation with no way to contact anyone because he stupidly left his phone at home.

The worst part it's that he knows there wasn't another choice to be made. Lygus didn't point at him with a weapon or take him away by force; he just simply needed to stand in the blind spot of the camera in the restaurant and mention his parents.

Just human beings can be stupid enough to hear a story and learn nothing of it. 

Golden eyes fixed in the old fluorescent lamp in the ceiling, one of the tubes already died and by the sound of it, the others would soon follow, instead he decided to  focus on the desk in the room. Lygus had already sat in his chair and he gestured him to follow and sit in the chair in front of the other side of the desk. Stubbornly he decided to remain standing, ignoring how his feet ached and his back hurt, longing for comfort.

Watching his negative, the old-man just shrugged in defeat. He reached for a bunch of document copies and placed them in front of the weapon industry heir.

“Take your time and read every single line. Even the small print.” The man waited patiently for him to grab the documents and read its contents. The young businessesman face twisted in confusion, what did those documents even mean? “Your father is really fit for the businesses, he can recognize an incredible opportunity when he sees one.” He glared at Lygus, somewhat already knowing what he was about to hear. “He was really disappointed to learn that you had turned me down because of your boyfriend. I was greatly surprised to hear how he expressed himself about that situation, I didn't expect Mr. Eurypon had that in him.”

“He never liked Phainon that much,” Mydei murmured, remembering that he was the last one to accept their relationship. Eurypon was a fully fledged overprotective parent. 

Lygus laughed at his face, and Mydei tilted his head to the side not understanding what was so funny.

“He never mentioned him. All his speech was towards you, oh my!” The old man gasped as if he had reached illumination. “I understand, that poor man never had a chance to vent his real thoughts. What a pity… I can understand him; I too share the sentiment.”

“Enough of this, you didn't ask me to accompany you to tell me how disappointed my father is.” He snapped, finally sitting down at the chair and taking a closer look at the documents. “What do you want?”

“Me? I'm fine with the deal I made with Mr. Eurypon.” He pointed at the last few lines, lines that seemed innocent until Mydei finally understood in which situation he was in. “I'm merely offering you an opportunity out of kindness for my appreciation to Khaslana’s and your efforts.”

Mydei stared at the papers until the lines blurred into noise. The signatures were real — his father’s shaky handwriting, the family seal stamped with legal precision. It wasn’t a draft or a threat. It was already done.

“No…” The words slipped out before he could hold the back. “He doesn't understand— he doesn't know the full extent of Irontomb!”

Lygus smiled, leaning back in his chair like a man watching a painting come to life.“He knows the most important part of it, there was no need to fill his head with useless information in his condition. He said it was the best opportunity he had come across in many years.”

Mydei’s stomach turned. He could hear his father saying something like that, his pride was on top of everything. He wishes his mother had listened to him and took charge of the company, then she would have investigated more, Gorgo would have been intrigued by the reason why her son turned down such an excellent opportunity, unlike his father that just took him as some weak-willed man that was bewitched by the words of his boyfriend.

“So,” Mydei said, forcing the words past his tightening throat, “you’ve transferred the Irontomb Project into Kremnos’ ownership. Meaning—”

“Meaning,” Lygus interrupted pleasantly, “every record, every prototype, every scrap of data, every liability — belongs to you now. You, or rather, your dear family.”

The sound of the lamp buzzing overhead filled the silence like static.

“If the truth comes out, if anyone investigates,” Lygus continued, almost conversational, “you’ll find your name neatly written on every legal paper that once belonged to me. I’m sure the authorities would be very interested in hearing the heir of Kremnos explain why his company was developing a bioweapon.”

He chuckled. “It’s poetic, really. You wanted to expose the corruption that birthed Irontomb, and now it’s your family’s legacy.”

Mydei’s hands clenched around the paper until the edges cut into his palms. “You son of a—”

“Ah-ah.” Lygus raised a finger, that amused smile never leaving his lips. “You’ll want to hear the rest before you lose your temper.”

He had no option but to hear, the damage was already done. If they kept their plan with Phainon it would be shooting themselves in the foot—all their investigation and plan would end up in legal suicide. Lygus' sudden offer would only benefit him… If the man decided to remain quiet, he would have got away with it and the only losers would have been his family. 

And this was only his fault.

He had hidden that truth from his family.

He had lied — told them it was just another weapons research project, nothing more. Because he didn’t want them to see the blood behind the numbers.

Now Eurypon had signed the deal, angry at his son’s defiance, too proud to admit he might be wrong. He had walked straight into Lygus’ trap, signing over their company’s name, their legacy, their lives — all of it bound to Irontomb.

And Mydei had given Lygus every weapon he needed.

Lygus leaned forward, voice low and smooth as poison. “You see now, don’t you? I didn’t have to corner you. You did that all on your own. But… I am a reasonable man. I’d rather not see the Kremnos name dragged through the mud. Nor your mother’s. Nor our precious Phainon’s.”

He felt acid rising up his throat. The way this man talked about their lives, about Phainon, it was as if…. He was watching a play he set on moving and they were nothing but puppets.

“I’m offering you an opportunity — out of kindness. Cooperate with me. Continue the research under my supervision. Help me refine Irontomb, and I’ll make sure none of this reaches the light of day. Your family’s name stays clean. Your lover stays free. You, Mydei… get to keep what little you still have left.”

Mydei said nothing. His throat was too tight to speak. His mind too loud with guilt to think.

He just went out to buy dinner and somehow he ended up trading his life.

“Weren't you after Phainon?” He asked in a small voice unlike his own. “And if the project is ours I have every right to stop it!” He exclaimed, feeling like he has found the best solution of all times.

Lygus looked at him for a second, before looking to the side and smiled with pity. He looked down at him and very slowly he shook his head.

“I feel pity for Mr. Eurypon, such a stupid son he has.” He pointed to a line in specific of the contract signed by his father. “The project is in its final stage, it cannot be stopped, not with the amount of investors it has and the money it was bought for. The agreement states that its development cannot be stopped nor canceled. We're talking about money here.”

“Lives are worth more than money—”

“A funny thing to say as someone who sells weapons left and right, tell me Mydeimos… Are you really against bloodshed or just protecting a few you care about?” The man stood up and walked around the desk to face him directly. “The hypocrisy you show makes me sick.”

“I've never wanted to hurt anyone!”

“You and Phainon are truly a match made in heaven.” He let out a small hollow laugh. "You have blood on your hands and refuse to accept your role.”

“Phainon never hurt anyone on purpose!” He snapped, standing up to face Lygus directly. A sharp pang in his abdomen made him wince and recoil, this was not the moment.

“That little lamb has done everything to try to escape.” The man snapped back at him, towering him. “He went from crying and begging, to torturing his own friend, to trying to suicide, to offering himself naively trying to earn some simpathy, to attempting to escape so many times, killing many in the attempt.”

Mydei breathing was getting laboured, and his vision blurred at the edges, he tried to ground himself by digging his nails on his palms to no avail.

“He has killed with his own hands, on purpose. Wake up from the tale he told you.” His eyes sharply realized he was not feeling good, and pushed him back to the chair. Sitting, Mydei's body went cold as sweat formed in his forehead. “Do you think he didn't know about this?” He laughed. “Phainon would use anyone on his way to reach his own goals.”

“No… he wouldn't. He…” loves me.

“You're nothing but his golden scapegoat.”

“You’re lying.” He said, breathing became such a difficult thing to do. “You want to put me… Against him. I-I won't allow it.”

“The little lion can surely be stubborn.” He leaned against the desk, speaking casually again. “Phainon never escaped, I let him go. I ran out all the possible uses for him, but you're quite the interesting individual.”

“Don't come any closer.” Mydei barked out, not being able to pull away or move, his body was so heavy and his beating felt so slow… It was as if he was dying. 

Lygus pulled out an oximeter from a drawer and roughly put it on his finger with clinical practice. He stepped reading the number there, eyes widening in alarm. 

“Shit, shit… Shit—” he pulled out his phone and dialed someone. “Get the clinic ready, I'm taking Mydeimos there— No, don't bring those yet! Make sure no one is there but you… His vitals are dropping, I can't have him dying on me!”

The man skillfully forced him to stand and leaned most of his body weight on him to make him walk somehow.

“What's happening…” Mydei murmured, he couldn't open his eyes anymore, everything seemed to be pulled out of a nightmare. He wished he could let himself be eaten by the darkness, however he fought to retain what little consciousness he had left. 

Lygus didn't answer him, instead he focused on the call as he dragged him to the back seat of his car, he struggled but placed him in a somewhat sitting position.

“His heart rate is 20, and his oxygen it's at 30 at most— Fuck, I'm driving what else do you want!?” He could barely hear the words anymore. “He's pregnant, get ready for an—abortion—procedure if needed—”

“No!” Mydeimos could barely force out from his throat. “Don't take my baby— My baby… Don't touch… my baby.”

He pleaded, as his consciousness faded completely. 

Mydei didn't reach to see Lygus' dark smile at his words.

Ashes and snow are alike, once you touch them they slowly disappear and leave nothing but a frozen picture of what once was full of life.

When Cyrene arrived at the police station to pick up Phainon —she was briefly interrogated about his friend's disappearance of course, because she was the only number of a contact Phainon gave them— her eyes were glued to how Phainon looked, it seemed as if he had become the same boy of that snowy night from years ago once again. His blue eyes were dull and he was sitting in the waiting room chair as if he was a ragdoll, the tips of his fingers were a deep shade of red and his lips were purple thanks to the cold.

She hesitated a little before approaching him… Whatever that happened was hideous to make him look like that.

“Phai—” Blue eyes met each other. His were void and cold, like a winter storm. “Let's get you home.”

“I have no home anymore Cyrene.” He answered in a whisper.

“C’mon don't say that.” She tried, perhaps… “Mydei must be waiting for you, we shouldn't keep him waiting.”

That made Phainon crumble entirely. The pink-haired girl watched in shock how tears began to fall from his eyes. She quickly wrapped her arms around his head letting him bury his face in her stomach and cry as he used to when they were children.

Cyrene softly patted his hair, waiting for him to calm down a little. Once he stopped sobbing loudly, he hung his head low and she took the opportunity to sit at his side and link her arm around his, rubbing soothing circles in the back of his hand. In this state Phainon wouldn't speak, she knows.

“Let's go to my place then.” She declared, Phainon shook his head glued to the cold metal seat in the police station. Cyrene sighed, silently guiding him towards the exit, whispering a lot of reassurances that she couldn't believe herself. 

The taxi ride to her department was silent, Phainon had retreated to his mind and disconnected from reality. It was scary to witness,—but this was far from the first time this happened and she has already seen him at his worst— she will try to do her best to deal with the situation at hand.

Cyrene opened the door of her apartment and Phainon walked like a zombie inside, straight to her bedroom —instinctively walking to the warmest place—and sat on the floor. There was no right approach to the topic, so she might as well not delay it further.

“Phai. Tell me what happened…Please.” She asked in a soft voice, not wanting to startle him. “Let me help you.”

“No!” He snapped, his mind was a scattered mess. “Don't! I don't want to lose you for real!”

“Phai,” she tried again. “That won't happen.”

“No!” 

“Phainon.”

He remained silent.

“Phainon Khaslana!” Cyrene yelled and stepped on the floor loudly, her prosthetic amplified the noise, already losing her own temper. Phainon blinked at her, effectively coming back to reality.

Cyrene is aware that those aren't the best methods, but she doesn't have the resources nor the right mechanisms as she's a mess herself. She just happens to be good at pretending to be functional.

“I will help you and that's final!” She declared sitting next to him. “I'm not asking for your opinion, I'm merely informing you what's going to happen.”

“He said the same—” his voice came out thin. “Cyrene! He said the same thing!” He sobbed. “And now he took him away! I couldn't do anything to help him. I put him in danger! I'm an stupid— How could I ever believe we could win!? Cyrene… Cyrene, I send him to his death.”

Cyrene's eyes widened, she somewhat got an idea of what her white-haired friend was talking about, she could feel her own heart sank at the news.

“Mydeimos he—”

“Lygus took him away… I'm sure of it. He's pregnant, he won't survive what we did.” He explained between broken sobs. “This is my fault.”

The pink-haired girl tried to force herself to be more steady and not to succumb to the panic as her brother already did. “Phainon, tell me what exactly happened today. Please… Perhaps there's another option.”

He clung to her words like a lifeline, blue eyes regained a little bit of life as he began retelling the events of earlier in the night. She hummed and nodded along with his explanation, keeping him in check each time he began to drift from the topic to blame himself for everything, from letting Mydei go alone to not cooking that day.

“Phainon, let’s analyze this step by step,” Cyrene began, pointing at a spot on the carpet as if she were mapping out a plan. “Mydeimos is wealthy, from a family with reach and influence. If someone wanted ransom or revenge, there are too many who’d find him worth the effort.”

“Cyrene…” Phainon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That doesn’t help. You’re widening the list, not narrowing it.” His voice broke on the next words. “But let’s be honest — only Lygus would go that far.”

Cyrene hesitated. He wasn’t wrong, but—

“If it was him, shouldn’t he have contacted you by now?” she asked quietly. “He’s obsessed with you. He would want you to know.”

Phainon let out a hollow laugh that sounded nothing like him. “Exactly. That’s why I can’t stop thinking the worst. If he’s silent, it’s because there’s nothing left to bargain with. Because Mydei’s already—” 

“Don’t,” she cut in, firm but trembling. “What if something else happened? We still have options, Phai. We just have to—”

“I don’t know!” His voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do.” A breath, then quieter. “This is my fault.”

“Then it's my fault too, I was the one who made you reach out for him.” She said, her mind already working on options to solve the situation at hand. “Plus, Mydei was conscious of the danger —as I am— and decided to stay by your side.”

“You're wrong Cyrene. He never understood the danger he was walking to, because he has never experienced it.” He said in a bitter tone, that took her aback. “It's one thing to see and hear a horrible story and another one to experience it. No matter how hard you say you understand the situation, you don't. And you never will.”

Cyrene’s breath hitched. “Are you implying Mydeimos hadn't suffered enough to understand you?” 

Phainon scoffed, before speaking again in a low tone. “I'm not implying it. I'm merely stating a fact.”

The world snapped.

Before he could even react, she had him on the floor. Her fist connected once, twice — each strike fueled not by hate, but by heartbreak. Tears streaked her face, her voice cracking between every word.

“I can't believe you!” A punch came again, his nerves were still numb from the cold, pain processed in the back of his mind. Unimportant. “How can you say that!?”

“It's the truth.” She scratched his face.

“What the hell Phainon!? He's carrying your child!” Blood dripped from the scratch and his nose, yet he didn't make a move to stop her. He wanted to be punished, he wanted that pain, so perhaps he could redeem his sins. “He had risked everything for you! He kept looking for the truth even if it was painful, even if it just led him to his demise.”

“He should have forgotten about me.”

Her next punch faltered. She slumped forward, trembling, forehead against his chest. Her whole frame shook with the force of her sobs. “Yeah, perhaps he should have but…” She cried and pulled her own hair in desperation, pink strands of hair getting messy and tangled in her hands. “Mydeimos is a warrior! The most brave person I've ever met! Not a coward to run and hide when the reality becomes too much like we do.”

“Yeah, he's too much for the both of us.” 

He wrapped his arms around her as she kept crying and he too silently weeped along her.

“We're just survivors, Phai.” She said once she finally calmed down. “Cowards. Liars, we're broken beyond repair and no one will ever understand our pain but… We're not alone anymore.”

“They will leave us once they know the truth.” He said hoarsely,not sure to move yet, even if Cyrene's weight made it uncomfortable for him to breathe.

“They won't. Mydeimos never did, and he had all the reasons to hate you.” She argued back, finally moving and breaking Phainon's embrace. “You brought him pain and despair, yet he never once decided to bring that upon you. Never left your side and searched for the truth before making a decision.”

“He's an exception.”

“Yeah, he loves you.” She said, smiling a little. “You have to be a little bit crazy to forgive someone who left you with a child and disappeared with no logical explanation. Really, I wouldn’t have forgiven you as easily as he did.”

“He didn't forgive me that easily, I had to win that confidence back!” He answered a little bit more playfully. “However, I don't know if everyone else would ever forgive me. I just made them suffer one way or the other.”

“I love you, Phai. You're my brother even if we don't share the same blood.” She said, finally rolling to the side and allowing Phainon to sit and check the damage inflicted on his face. “Mydeimos loves you in a way that I cannot even begin to describe, and you have many more people that love you without conditions.”

Phainon smiled a little even if he doesn't feel convinced by her words, he knows for a fact that even if they don't love him the way he does, he still will love them nonetheless. 

Cyrene brushed at her tears, then stood and grabbed the first-aid kit, tossing it toward him. “You look awful, by the way.”

“You should see the other guy,” he muttered, dabbing at his nose. A shaky laugh slipped out of both of them, soft and human.

“Phainon,” Cyrene said after a pause, phone already in hand. “We need help. We can’t play the silent heroes anymore. Let’s tell the others before time runs out.”

He hesitated, dread flickering across his face. “Fine. But… start with someone who can stay calm.”

“Then Aglaea it is.” She pressed her thumb on the screen, the ringing tone filling the quiet room. “Let’s bring the truth to light.”

When Mydei opened his eyes, the world stank of rust and iodine.

The ceiling above him was mottled with black stains, the color of dried blood. For a moment his dizzy mind expected Phainon by his side but once his head stopped spinning, he realized he wasn't at a hospital but somewhere else. When he tried to move, metal bit into his wrists.

Cold restraints.

He blinked until his vision steadied. The stretcher beneath him groaned under every shallow breath, its edges biting into his skin. His wrists were tied, his arms dotted with punctures—IV tubes snaking into him, wires leading to a set of monitors that blinked faintly green and red in the dark.

No nurses. No light. No warmth.

The blonde wanted nothing but to rip off those and run from where he was tied, but he didn't have the strength nor the resources to do that. He figured that's why no one was keeping an eye on him. 

He was at their mercy.

Mydei wanted to stay calm and think about the situation and how to get out of it. He analyzed the room, it had no windows and most of the installations were at plain sight from the electrical wires to the water and draining pipes. When he finally looked down, his heart stopped.

*

The hospital gown clung damply to his thighs. White—stained red. His legs were bare, numb from the hips down, his body alien to him. There was a faint smell of iron lingering in the air that was a cruel reminder of what he could faintly hear Lygus say over his phone.

An abortion procedure.

He wished he could feel his baby move inside his belly—to deny the horror his eyes were seeing—, but it had never happened before and now it perhaps never would. 

A choked sob made way past his lips before he realized, soon it was followed by more, tears he swore would never shed again blurred his vision and fell from his eyes non stop. 

He had lost everything.

His baby, he had done everything to keep his baby safe, to secure their happiness and now they were gone. His parents were in danger thanks to his stupidity, thanks to his weak heart, he betrayed his friends again and again, right now he reached the point of no return. No one would ever forgive him.

He wouldn't even forgive himself.

Phainon… Phainon? He doesn't know how to feel about the man he still loves but brought him so much pain, the heaven seemed just a step away by his side but they were just walking straight to hell and how he was stuck there. He probably should have chosen the bliss of ignorance, instead of this. All for naught.

He doesn't deserve forgiveness.

His baby, he lost it.

He lost everything.

It hurts. Gods, it hurt.

His chest hurts.

His head hurts.

His heart hurts.

His soul hurts.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

His throat burned raw as he screamed—again and again—until the taste of iron filled his mouth and blood spattered from his lips onto the floor.

The monitor wailed a single, continuous tone.

And then—a door slammed open.

“Enough!” Lygus’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and irritated. “For fuck’s sake, can’t you stay quiet for one minute? You’ll tear your stitches and ruin everything.”

Lygus’s voice cut through his hysteria—measured, irritated, like someone silencing an unruly pet. He stepped inside with a sigh, closing the door behind him. The sharp click of his shoes echoed across the floor as he approached.

“You’ll tear your stitches if you keep thrashing like that,” he said coolly, glancing at the monitors. “I didn’t spend hours stabilizing you just for you to undo my work.”

Mydei’s whole body trembled. “W-What did you do to me?” His voice was a raw whisper, thick with tears. “You… you killed them—my baby—”

For a moment Lygus looked at him strangely and then he leaned against the tiled wall in silence.

“I’ve never killed anyone in my life.” The old man said with a stern tone. “Just like Phainon and you.”

“My baby— You monster!” He choked out past the endless stream of tears, his golden eyes shone with fury. “If I have nothing else to lose. I will take you down with me! I want to kill you! I'll kill you!”

“Why are you so attached to something that shouldn't have happened in the first place?” The man asked with genuine curiosity, ignoring the threats Mydei kept spilling without pause. “Your body is quite interesting,” Mydei froze at those words, blinking warily at the man, as he was about to demand an explanation, Lygus decided to continue. “I'm not interested in what you're thinking. I do not share the weird fetishes Khaslana has.”

“What—”

“I guess well, I'm at fault for that.” Lygus mused, his tone almost fond — as if confessing some harmless mischief. “Growing up in a lab doesn't give a teenager the most normal sexual development. Eventually, an individual raised in such conditions ends up developing morbid curiosity.”

A shiver crawled down Mydei’s spine.

“That’s not—” He stopped himself, bile rising to his throat. “Ugh.”

Better to stay quiet. The air felt heavy with something he couldn’t name — like standing too close to a predator that hadn’t decided whether to eat him or pet him.

It had been years since he’d felt this kind of self-consciousness — the raw, suffocating awareness of his own body. His skin felt wrong, his lower half alien. He was a teenager again, terrified of being seen, of what would happen if someone found out.

“An hermaphrodite with both sexes fully developed,” Lygus continued, almost reverently, scribbling something on a notepad he’d pulled from a metal shelf. “That’s rare. Beautiful, in a way. Nature’s little accident that shouldn’t go to waste.” He looked up, eyes gleaming through the harsh fluorescent light. “Tell me — when did you first realize you could conceive?”

Mydei’s stomach turned. “I haven’t agreed to be your test subject.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Lygus smiled, as though the reminder delighted him. “You made that… scene, before we reached an agreement.” His voice softened into a mockery of politeness. “We’ll fix that soon enough.”

“I did not make a scene!” He yelled, uncaring of how pathetic it was. “You… you killed them—my baby—”

Lygus stopped beside the stretcher. He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with false sympathy. “Killed them?” he echoed softly. “Oh, Mydeimos… who told you that?”

“You said it.” His chest hitched. “I heard you on the phone—’Get ready for an abortion procedure ‘— you said.”

A quiet, cruel laugh. “Ah. So that’s what you heard.”

Lygus leaned down, his breath ghosting against Mydei’s ear. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop on things you don’t understand.”

Mydei’s heart thundered in his chest. “T-Then what did you—?”

“I saved your child.” The words slithered out smooth, deliberate. “You were about to miscarry. Your body was rejecting the pregnancy, and without my intervention, you both would have died. So I did what was necessary.”

Mydei stared at him, unable to process the words. “You… you’re lying.”

“Am I?” Lygus’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He placed a hand harshly on his still swollen belly —which in his paranoia Mydei had assumed was there just because a belly of almost five months wouldn’t disappear in an instant.“You’re still bleeding because I had to operate. Your baby’s alive—but your body is no longer strong enough to carry to full term.” He straightened, adjusting his gloves like it was all routine. “You’ll have to deliver early—around the thirty-third week, maybe the thirty-fourth, if you behave.”

The words sank like ice into Mydei’s veins. He wanted to hate him, to curse him, but all that came out was a quiet, broken sound. “Why would you do this?”

“Because I’m not cruel,” Lygus said simply, as though he truly believed it. “I’m curious. Your baby is… special. A combination worth preserving. And I do take care of what belongs to me.”

“Belongs—?” Mydei’s voice cracked. “I’m not yours—”

“Not yet.” Lygus’s tone dripped with amusement. “But right now that child inside you is, objectively speaking, the most valuable result of my research. Which makes them mine. By extension, you are, too.”

“Stop talking about my baby as if they were an object.”

“Guess you're fine already, there's no need to keep being polite.” He said with a tone that edged in a warning. “I’m interested in keep investigating Irontomb effects on survivors, when Phainon turned out to be gay I just gave up with the idea of investigating his offspring. But oh surprise, he hit a biological jackpot. An hermaphrodite with the body of a whore.”

Mydei’s breath hitched. The words landed like a slap, his eyes flashing with pain and disbelief.“Shut up already, no one wants to hear your voice.”

“Oh but I do.” Lygus answered, a mocking smile drew in his lips. “Phainon disappeared leaving you to sign the deal I ended up signing with your father. He would have ended up doing what you were planning together, alone. And you Mydeimos would have been the one to take the fall, the only thing that prevented that outcome was your whorish body that kept his seed in hopes of tying him to you.” Lygus’s smirk didn’t falter. “Tell me, what would your father say if he saw you now? Eurypon’s heir — his only son — spread open and carrying the bastard of a man who abandoned you. Your family spent generations building a name, and you’ve managed to drag it into the mud for love.” 

“That’s not—” Mydei’s voice cracked under the strain. “I didn’t know this was going to happen—”

“Didn’t you?” Lygus’s tone was venomously soft. “A baby to keep a man by your side. I've only seen that in lowlifes whores.” 

Mydei eyes stung with anger and pain, he had never been shamed or treated like this. In the end that shock made him talk without thinking. “I've never wanted to have a child in the first place!”

Lygus tilted his head, studying him like a strange insect caught under glass. “Then why were you crying and accusing me of killing your child when you never wanted it.” Lygus paused, then placed a hand where the stitches were covered by the gown. “I can help you get rid of it if you—”

“No!”

“Make up your mind then.” Lygus snapped, grabbing his face forcefully, almost crushing his cheekbones with his cold, gloved hands. “You parade yourself as noble — as strong — yet every choice you’ve made has been for a man who will never lift a finger for you. Tell me, how does it feel, little prince? To have fallen so low that even your shame carries his name?”

“I won't” Mydei forced out. Lygus leaned closer, one gloved hand resting lightly against the stretcher beside Mydei’s head. 

His tone dropped to a purr. “No one’s coming for you. Not Phainon, not your little friends, not your family. Only me.”

He brushed a strand of hair from Mydei’s face almost tenderly, finally letting go of the crushing grip on his face. “As long as you do as I say, both you and the child will survive. Disobey me…” His hand ghosted over the red stains on Mydei’s gown. “…and next time, I won’t save you.”

The monitors picked up his heartbeat again, frantic and uneven.

*

Lygus smiled faintly, satisfied, and began adjusting the IV drip. “Good boy. Let’s keep those vitals stable. Wouldn’t want another scare, would we?”

Mydei’s breathing came out in ragged bursts, his chest heaving. He wanted to fight back, to bite, to kill the man standing before him—but all his body could do was tremble and gasp for air.

Lygus, by contrast, seemed unbothered. The man turned his wrist to glance at his watch, then sighed like a teacher scolding an unruly child.

“Are we done throwing tantrums?” he asked calmly. “Good. Then listen carefully, because you’ll want to understand what happens next.”

He moved closer, dragging a stool with him until he sat beside the stretcher. The sound of the metal scraping against the floor made Mydei flinch. Lygus noticed and smiled faintly, satisfied.

“As I said,” he began, flipping through a clipboard filled with data sheets, “your body is a biological wonder. The Irontomb strain from your child genetics should have destroyed your reproductive tissue entirely. Instead, it mutated to accommodate development. Your child hybrid genetics shielded you—enhanced you. Do you understand what that means?”

“I don’t care,” Mydei rasped. “You can rot with your research.”

Lygus chuckled. “You should care. Because your survival means your child’s survival—and my research’s success.” He set down the clipboard and leaned forward, lowering his voice to a low murmur that crawled beneath Mydei’s skin. “You’re already five months along. You won’t make it to full term. I can try to stabilize you, but after the thirty-fourth week, both you and the fetus will start to decay from within.”

Mydei stared at him, horror and disbelief twisting in his throat. “You’re lying.”

“I’m warning you.” Lygus’s tone sharpened. “I’m the only one who understands your condition, Mydeimos. Without me, you and that baby will die in agony before you ever reach thirty weeks. But if you cooperate, I’ll ensure a controlled birth—your child will live.”

He reached out, gloved fingers tracing the edges of the IV tube, as if to remind Mydei how easily he could end everything with one twist.

“Cooperate?” Mydei echoed weakly.

“You’ll undergo regular observation. Blood tests, neurological readings, hormone analysis, exposure to Irontomb variations. You’ll stay here, under my care. In return, I’ll keep you alive long enough to deliver the child safely. After that we can forget about that little contract I signed with your father.”

He paused, meeting Mydei’s trembling eyes. “You owe me that much, don’t you?”

Mydei didn’t answer. The sterile light above them buzzed faintly, the only sound between them. Lygus’s words echoed through his mind like poison. Deliver early. If you behave.

If he’s telling the truth… then Phainon still has time. A month. Two, maybe.

He could still be found.

He could still hold his child.

The realization slid through the panic like a sliver of clarity. Mydei’s breathing steadied, almost imperceptibly. Lygus mistook it for submission.

Good. Let him think that.

Slowly, Mydei forced his body to loosen, even though every muscle screamed in defiance. His gaze softened—just enough. “What do you want me to do?”

Lygus’s smile widened. He didn’t even hide his satisfaction. “Finally, some sense. It’s simple: obey me, and I’ll make sure you and the child live. Refuse me…” He tapped lightly on the monitor, where Mydei’s heartbeat still fluttered erratically.

Mydei nodded faintly, the movement barely perceptible. “Fine.” His voice was flat, almost mechanical. “I’ll cooperate.”

Lygus leaned back in his chair, the image of smug contentment. “Good boy. You see? Rationality always wins.” He rose, smoothing the creases in his coat. “Rest. Tomorrow we’ll begin the first phase of testing. You’ll be sedated—no need to panic. You’ll get used to it.”

He turned to leave, pausing only once at the door. “And, Mydeimos?”

The young man didn’t look up.

Lygus’s voice softened, almost mockingly gentle. “You should be proud. You and your child will change the world.”

The door clicked shut.

Silence swallowed the room again.

Only then did Mydei let out the breath he’d been holding, trembling so hard the stretcher creaked beneath him. His stomach felt heavy—alive—but the ache inside him was unbearable.

He shut his eyes, pressing his teeth together to stop the sobs.

He couldn’t die here. Not yet. He had to endure nine weeks, he had to survive for his baby.

Nine weeks for Phainon to find him.

Enduring Irontomb turned out to be far worse than what Mydeimos had prepared himself for.

The first days felt almost deceptively calm — awkward questions about his health, invasive questions about his sex life, and endless blood draws that left the inside of his elbows bruised. He tried to stay detached. He told himself this was still the “preparation stage,” that Lygus’s cold precision was temporary. That someone — anyone — would come before it escalated.

But when the real experiments began, even that fragile hope started to dissolve.

*

Lygus appeared every evening like clockwork, silent and mechanical, collecting vitals and noting them down as if he were cataloguing the decay of a specimen.

“I'm just curious,” Lygus said one night, his tone too casual for the sterile air between them. “Before this child, were you ever scared of getting pregnant?”

The question felt like a hand digging through the dirt of his memories. Mydeimos stared blankly at the floor. He’d learned what silence cost him — an empty tray and an entire day fed only by the IV that dripped beside him.

“Yes,” he replied flatly, the word scraping out of him.

“Will you elaborate?” Lygus asked, his voice soft, almost conversational — the way someone might talk to a friend. The illusion would’ve been easy to fall for once. Not anymore.

Mydeimos shook his head. It was the wrong answer. Lygus sighed, rolled his eyes, and left without another word. The door’s closing click echoed in the small room. No food again. No light. Just the hum of the IV machine. Despite not being restrained anymore there was hardly anything he could do to change his situation, he already tried before and it just ended up the same each time.

By the next day, hunger had hollowed him out enough that pride no longer seemed worth defending.

“Will you elaborate this time?” Lygus asked as though this were a game.

Mydeimos nodded weakly. “I’m not proud of this,” he said. His voice trembled — not out of fear, but exhaustion. “At college, I met someone on my internships at a music producer. I liked the guy, he asked me to go for a couple of drinks when my internship ended. I accepted, then I ended up in his bed. I realized too late that the guy wore no protection. I thought it was fine because it was— It was…”

“It was…?”

“My first time.” He whispered his face burning with the last remains of shame. “Well, I was scared for a month, then forgot about it.”

Lygus didn’t even look up from his screen. “Seems you’ve always been a gullible little whore,” he said, typing something into his device “No wonder why Khaslana hasn't even tried looking for you.” Then, as if rewarding obedience, he ordered someone to bring food.

Mydeimos didn’t answer. The insult didn’t even sting anymore. Maybe because some part of him agreed. Maybe because hunger left no room for dignity.

When the first test dose of Irontomb was administered, the pain shattered every remaining illusion he had about strength or survival. His body convulsed with burning, electric agony that made him forget he was a grown man, forget he was a parent, forget he was anything but small. He ended up crying, his voice cracking into broken pleas that filled the sterile air.

“Mother, please help me—” He cried, lying in the cold floor of room, his body burned and he could only focus on curling on himself the most his belly allowed him to, trying to shield it from the pain that came from within. “Mom— Mom… Mother save me! I don't want to be here— Mom.”

He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Cyrene and Phainon experienced this pain for years and didn't go insane over it. He felt as if his brain was going to melt inside his head and his body felt so cold. How he wished he could be in Phainon's warm embrace or his parents' safe arms.

Were they looking for him?

Did they assume he died? Please no, Phainon would save him. He wanted to believe he would — that there’d be warmth again, arms around him, a voice whispering that everything was over. That he could still carry this child, love them, forget this place.

But the words that slipped out of him betrayed the truth he’d stopped saying aloud.

“I just want to hear that… everything is going to be fine…” he whispered, eyes wet and unfocused. The IV’s slow drip was the only answer.

Lygus would return tomorrow, and the pain would start again.

And Mydeimos knew that even if the door opened now, even if his parents or Phainon stood right there, he wouldn’t be able to stand up.

Mydei hopes his parents won't be so angry when they find out the truth, he wouldn't be able to deal with their disappointment over their only son. Maybe Lygus was right. Maybe he really had risked everything for the wrong kind of love, ignoring the love he already had.

That realization hurt more than the drug burning through his veins — because it meant there was no one left to blame but himself.

*