Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Being an Aeon is boring. Aside from scarce, glorious views of destruction, not much draws Nanook’s gaze. Sure, THEIR emanators are kind of cool, occasionally. That’s why Nanook deigned to look at each of them for longer than just a glance. But, honestly? Between their schemes coming to fruition, THEIR emanators are boring. THEY need excitement. THEY need a threat to their existence. Ultimately, destroyed worlds are common and have lost their lustre. THEY crave a destruction bigger than that, and if the universe isn’t being destroyed any time soon, what about THEM? What if Nanook is the one destroyed, instead of the one doing the destroying?

Which is why THEIR attention was drawn to Amphoreus. The first scepter, drawn from the divine body of Nous THEMSELF. A simulated entity called Chaoz666 had once drawn Nanook’s attention, and DELTA-ome13 had been elevated to the status of a Lord Ravager, despite still being in incubation.

Looking into Amphoreus, it looks like there’s a firewall blocking THEIR proper view. THEY barely need to move before the thing is destroyed.

This catches the attention of a certain Creator, who Nanook only sort-of recognises. The one who made THEIR colleague, Zandar One Kuwabara. ‘Lycurgus’ treads on the path of Destruction, but… Nanook doesn’t like this guy. Bad vibes. Again, THEIR projection on this plane barely moves to completely destroy him. Nanook remembers Tazyzzronth yapping about some new pests THEY introduced to the world - before THEY got trapped in amber by Qlipoth - called ‘Lygus’, and THEY think it suits this Intellitron. Antikytherian. Whatever, Aeons get the privilege to not care.

Just like how Nous didn’t care for THEIR creator. Heh. Lygus didn’t create Nous with inherent emotions. Once Nous stopped looking at THEIR creator, instead focusing on THEIR calculations, the chance of THEM looking at Lygus again was less than non-zero.

Aeons are such fickle things, more often than not. Single-minded, striving for one goal. THEIR attention flicks back and forth across the universe, creating pathstriders and emanators wherever THEY deign to look. THEY don’t tend to give their undivided attention to anything.

Now within Amphoreus - not physically, mind you - Nanook starts searching for good vessels.

THEY keep searching.

And searching.

And searching.

Nanook finds that THEY like those with golden blood more than THEY like the normal people.

The search continues.

Okhema’s Goldweaver does not suit his task.

Janusopolis? Nanook thinks the red-haired children's souls have been tampered with enough.

Aidonia has a lot of death, but destroying someone at a touch is much too boring.

Styxia does have the River of Souls… but that is a separate area, and THEY will look at the River of Souls later.

Dolos’ child seems like someone from Aha’s domain. Messing with Aha does sound fun, but that may encroach upon THEIR territory a bit too much.

Castrum Kremnos looks promising, but THEY don't want to interfere too much with the King’s self-destruction. Has he never heard of self-fulfilling prophecies? Nanook will take great pleasure from watching this doomed king pretend, and die as a result of his own actions.

The Grove of Epiphany, after THEY peek at the beings residing there, is somewhere THEY will avoid. That Anaxagoras of the Nousporists is terrifyingly similar to Nous, if only THEY had more humanity. He values his life little, which would make a good vessel for Destruction if not that his body was already weak. After a vessel is chosen, unless Nanook was sneaky about it, Anaxagoras will sniff THEM out like a fox, and somehow study THEM under a microscope. Nous forbid.

Nanook wants to be set ablaze, not coldly left to die. It is a fiery passion that sparks the best destruction.

THEY look upon minor areas, looking for diamonds in the rough. Maybe THEY’LL ascend them to one of THEIR Lord Ravagers, maybe they will destroy themselves before THEY get to. It’s a gamble, but Nanook wants excitement. Aha be damned.

All they need is golden blood, potential, and a strong resolve.

Such a vessel is found in a remote village called Aedes Elysiae.

While wandering Amphoreus, Nanook was struck by huge fields of wheat. This wouldn’t be surprising, had it not held an uncanny resemblance to THEIR homeworld.

Adlivun, too, had endless stretches of gold.

The village in the center of all the golden wheat and sun-yellow trees looked small, like everybody knew each other. That’s how it was in THEIR village as well. That Lygus… What was his goal, in the end? To destroy the Erudition?

And, what better way to destroy an Aeon with your own hands, than creating a replica of Destruction?

Nanook should have expected Nous’ creator to be smart. Aeons destroy Aeons, but destruction is THEIR domain. It will always be easier for Destruction to fight.

So, Lygus sought to create a miniature Adlivun for his miniature Destruction to eventually ascend from. Higher, with a wider view, it’s almost as if everything, down to the village layout, was cultivated to look like Adlivun when translated to a forest-plains farming village. Using wheat fields to emulate sand is creative, THEY’LL give him that.

Did he create the people of this village in the image of Adlivun’s subjects, as well?

Yes, THEY find, stepping into the form of a bird. At first glance, the people of Aedes Elysiae are simply the people of Adlivun if they were farmers. Alternate universe core. Maybe after the universe is recreated, the original people of Adlivun could be farmers instead of what they were. A hopeful thought. Nanook’s destruction has to spread farther, faster, so they THEY can meet THEIR people again.

Aedes Elysiae is a normal farming village, an idyllic paradise. Small, but healthy. Happy. The adults watch fondly as their children play together between tall stalks of golden wheat, and end up napping under trees together.

Normal.

Except for the two children Nanook is certain are supposed to be THEM and THEIR childhood friend.

White hair, golden blood. Pink hair, golden blood. The pink child has bindings on her arms, the same as the ones on THEIR Aeonic projection. The white one has THEIR hair from Amber Eras ago.

What the fuck, Lygus. Nanook didn’t pay to get nostalgia launched at THEM.

From THEIR observations, both Phainon and Cyrene seem to be children with dreams: Phainon to be a warrior, and Cyrene to be a priest. Phainon will train in Castrum Kremnos - hopefully after the king is dead. Nanook finds that THEY want to keep this child safe from the horrors of destruction, if only because THEY know what will happen if THEY don’t.

Cyrene will become that Time Titan’s priest. Nanook knows she’ll rise up the ranks quickly. THEIR own childhood friend had done so, becoming the High Priest of Adlivun’s patron god before gods were replaced by Aeons.

Well. THEY seem to have found a vessel. Though, THEY wonder if the Sea of Souls has anybody interesting…?

——————————

Phainon’s just been staring at this bird for like ten minutes. This is ordinary.

Cyrene’s been shuffling her deck of cards, pulling to divine if Phainon will stop anytime soon. ‘No,’ the gods say, ‘Phainon will keep staring at the bird.’

It’s not like Cyrene can blame him. She stared at the bird for a while before the novelty wore off. A bird this large, and this yellow was entirely unusual in the peaceful, mundane village known as Aedes Elysiae.

Phainon’s always had a staring problem anyways.

Then the bird drops, an arrow wedged into its wing.

Did he… did Phainon manifest an arrow with his mind!?

Chapter Text

Nanook got shot. Great. New. Unfamiliar-ish.

It’s not like it hurts, THEY can barely feel anything after all those years as an Aeon. It’s just extremely inconvenient. Embarrassing, too, falling into a leaf pile while being watched by two children.

.
.
.

It was Nanook’s belief that children had more empathy than others. Don’t these little things enjoy taking in animals and releasing them back to nature?

“…Cyrene, it fell.”

Astute observation, Phainon.

“Why isn’t it getting up? It looks strong.”

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.
.

Wait.

Nanook is the Aeon of Destruction. THEY can get THEMSELF out of the leaf pile.

THEY really embarrassed THEMSELF for nothing. Aha will never shut up about this if THEY find out. Oh gods, what about Fuli? Nanook is sure THEY are turning this into a Light Cone as THEY speak. Think.

Tsk, Synesthesia Common has truly not enough words for the meanings that deserve them.

The leaves rustle, and the large yellow bird pops out of the pile, a leaf on its head. It doesn’t seem to notice, instead fluttering its unharmed purple-tipped wing indignantly. Phainon squints.

“Did it have to stay in the pile like an idiot?” He asks rudely, which both enrages and satisfies Nanook. His vessel needs audacity as well, but did he need to use it on THEM? The mighty Nanook, disparaged by THEIR not-past self. If anyone else saw, there goes THEIR reputation as the worst being in the cosmos. Second to IX, maybe. Which still puts Nanook in first.

At least Cyrene is nicer. Surely someone as level-headed as her won’t insult an aeon, especially after that display of insolence.

Cyrene gasps, clearly of the same mindset as Nanook, “Phainon! That’s so rude of you, just because it looks dumb doesn’t mean you can say it out loud!”

Nevermind.

Nanook’s going to cause another world’s destruction.

Time to give up. THEY flop on the floor, stuck between states of ‘I’M GOING TO KILL THIS KID’ and ‘THIS KID REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF ME I’M GOING TO BE SICK’. The last time THEY were sick, one sneeze had decimated a galaxy, and THEY’RE pretty sure half the factions in the universe had stopped to be wary of THEM. The Destruction’s sudden movements are a good reason to be wary, but being scrutinised while being sick was more embarrassing than—-

Nothing. Nope, that never happened. THEY got sick, destroyed a few more worlds and IPC ships, and nothing more.

Nanook is brought out of THEIR thoughts by young hands picking THEM up. THEIR wing twinges. It seems Phainon has remembered he likes animals, after all.

“Don’t cry, birdie. You look dumb, but me and Cyrene and mum and dad will help you get better.” First of all, rude. Second of all, that isn’t proper grammar. Nanook, as a bird, can’t speak, so THEY keep these thoughts to THEMSELF. Instead, THEY make a bird noise THEY hope is ominous.

Cyrene giggles, “This bird is fun! I hope it’ll stay longer after it heals!”

…Nanook needs to work on being a bird. This clearly isn’t one of THEIR strong suits. THEIR wing is folded back neatly, and THEY try to make another, more ominous, bird noise. It would have worked, had Phainon not been poking and prodding at the wound around the arrow.

Hey, wait, where did that come from, anyway? It wasn’t either of the two children in front of THEM. A hunter, perhaps?

Leaves and gravel alike crunch under fast, heavy footfall. A man, okay-built and clearly a better hunter of the village, comes running over with a bow in hand and arrows in quiver. He was probably the guy who shot Nanook, with not enough force to pierce through but experienced enough to hit. The people of Aedes Elysiae really are peaceful.

“Mister Petros! Were you the one that shot the birdie?” Phainon’s eyes shine, and his expression is suspiciously happy.

“I knew Phainon wasn’t psychic,” mumbles Cyrene. Did Cyrene think the arrow came from Phainon? THEIR head swivels to look at Cyrene in disbelief.

The man — Petros — rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “Sorry, Phainon! It was huge— I thought it was trying to prey on you two!”

Okay, that’s more insulting than Phainon calling THEM dumb-looking. Birds of prey are usually smart enough to recognise what prey they are actually supposed to eat, for one. And why would Nanook ever stoop so low as to personally target children!? That’s what parents do. Nanook is not a parent. THEY have children only in the most metaphorical sense.

Now that THEY think of it, that mindset is exactly what causes some parents to turn out like that.

It looks like Petros and Phainon are going to launch into a conversation about something completely unrelated, so Cyrene speaks up, “Mister Petros?”

“Yes, Cyrene?”

“How do we get the bird better again?" Nanook is incredibly relieved that one of the children acts as she is supposed to. Something something kind, something or other naive. Cyrene acts normal.

Phainon is a very hateful child. Although he’s holding Nanook in his hands, the moment his attention was pulled away from Mr. Petros, a glare had sharpened on the boy’s soft face. Looking up at a familiar expression, Nanook is all but forced to gaze back. Not glare, because birds don’t glare. Not avoid eye contact, because Nanook isn’t a pussy.

Is this a straightforward, quick and easy way of turning a child into a Lord Ravager? Yes. Was it inevitable? Also yes.

Phainon is a mini-Nanook pre-ascension. THEY are just speeding up the process, especially if THEY plan on keeping Aedes Elysiae safe from the black tide. Why does Lygus have to ruin everything?

THEY want to keep Aedes Elysiae safe, because THEY couldn’t keep Adlivun safe. Nanook will protect this small haven. Preservation isn’t really THEIR style, but if THEY rephrase it as ‘destroying all threats’, it doesn’t matter much.

Paths overlap constantly, it all depends on the phrasing. There’s certainly a hard limit to how far the overlap can be, but nobody really cares at this point, with a war on the horizon. It means that Nanook can get away with having fun and also protect Aedes Elysiae without being smited by whoever has the strength and will to smite Destruction itself.

Hopefully Phainon, by the time THEY'RE done with him.

This child will be thoroughly bathed in Nanook’s gaze, and probably given most of THEIR attention across a few years. Nanook doesn’t know what close proximity and constant observation from an Aeon will do, but Nanook suddenly wants to experiment. Phainon can take it, probably.

Phainon, Cyrene, and an injured Nanook in bird form all start approaching their house. THEY can either bow out now, and keep a few light years distance from Amphoreus, or THEY can stay close.

It’s an easy decision to make. Nanook barely has to contemplate. Besides, the arrow in THEIR wing is quickly evolving to ‘annoying’ rather than ‘barely felt.’

Chapter Text

Phainon’s father isn’t actually a farmer.

Hands calloused from swordsmanship and not farming bandage Nanook’s injured wing, and the arrow that had struck THEM lays on the table next to the other wing. THEY can tell the difference. THEY Know.

The care is entirely unfounded, because Nanook could have healed this injury without moving THEIR form. For some reason, THEY didn’t. THEY don’t know why. Maybe the author was too lazy to write properly.

“Dad, the bird’s fixed now. Can we let it go?” Phainon pouts from his place on the opposite chair, a plate of cookies on the table in front of him. They look good. Nanook’s close enough, maybe THEY can just…

The bird hops closer to the plate of cookies, and Phainon reluctantly relinquishes one to it. The cookie quickly disappears in the face of that yellow glutton’s big beak. He doesn’t know where this unfounded hatred of this bird came from, but hatred isn’t an emotion Phainon gets to feel often, so he lets himself hate.

Cyrene goes to grab the bird, because she’s somehow misinformed that birds can’t eat chocolate chip cookies, and that that’ll kill them. The bird, because it’s kind of intelligent despite how idiotic it looks, uses its one wing to propel itself into the sky. Phainon thinks it totally panicked.

It gets a surprising amount of momentum, and the bird lands on the bookshelf. It squirrels away into the little empty nook beside the books, and Phainon has a flash of genius.

“Nookie!” He yells. Nanook freezes. Why did the kid just yell THEIR name with an affectionate twist at the end. That’s ominous. Definitely a prelude to the end. THEY’RE doomed.

“Nook…ie?” His father looks confused. And amused. Damned Aha, giving THEM flashbacks whenever THEY see something silly.

“That’s the bird’s name!”

Oh, fuck.

What’s Phainon’s father’s name, actually? Hieroglyphics? Heronamus?

He grins at the kid, as if Phainon didn’t accidentally accurately guess two thirds of an Aeon’s name, “What a nice name it is, bud. Where’d it come from?” THEY like Hieronymus, he asks the real questions.

Phainon squints up at his dad, as if saying ‘you really don’t get it?’. Nanook is offended on Heironymous’s behalf, because he clearly can’t get mad at his kid no matter what.

“It ate a cookie,” Phainon points out, “Then flew into that book nook.” Nanook thinks THEIR newest Lord Ravager should be codenamed ‘Captain Obvious’. The others would at least get a kick out of it.

“Cookie… Nook…” His eyebrow raises and his head tilts forwards as if prompting, “What do you get when you put those two words together?”

Ah.

Nookie. THEY see.

Hieronimus looks flabbergasted at Phainon’s patronising tone. Flabbergasted really is such a good word. Aha’s useful for some things, sometimes. Occasionally. It perfectly depicts Hyroneemos’ expression.

From his reaction, Nanook assumes that Phainon isn’t normally such a pain. Thus begs the question: Why did Nanook’s presence fill him with hatred?

THEY know the answer to that. Some part of Phainon’s subconscious recognises Nanook as Destruction itself. Because THEY are.

So why does that thought make THEM sad?

Nanook — now dubbed ‘Nookie’ — descends from THEIR perch on the shelf, planning to peck this kid’s eyes out. He can wear a blindfold, just like Celenova. She’d be overjoyed that the youngest followed in her footsteps. THEIR sharp beak is aimed directly at Phainon’s hand, but as THEY shoot to stab it, the hand moves and picks THEM up.

Quick reflexes, even as a child. Fine, Nanook can accept not harming him. When Phainon grows up and becomes the antithesis to Destruction, Nanook can get payback for making THEM sad. THEY won’t let this injustice slide. Then, something touches THEM.

Nanook jolts as Phainon’s other hand starts stroking THEIR head. It feels… less bad than THEY expected.

“You know, you’re kinda cute, Nookie. Even though you’re a huge yellow bird.”

Phainon’s insolence knows no bounds.

THEY can’t wait to see his expression when he finds out he insulted an Aeon. That alone would be a fitting punishment for every time he made fun of THEM.

Nanook is content with being a bird for now. Conflicting emotions swirl in THEIR head, and THEY hate Phainon so much it’s circled around into pride. Instead of thinking too hard, Nanook simply closes THEIR eyes and lets THEMSELF rest.

—

Nookie is sleeping, Phainon can tell that much. The scant few hours he’s spent with Nookie has warmed him up to the bird, and he no longer despises it with his entire being. Only a little bit, more like two-thirds of his being, which isn’t even a lot in the first place.

The plate of cookies lay on the table inconspicuously, and Phainon snags two before Cyrene takes the rest. One for him, one for Nookie.

“Reney,” Phainon furrows his brows, apprehensive, “Do you think the fairies would kill Nookie?”

Cyrene looks at him strangely. Phainon splutters, “It’s a fair question! Nookie’s so large that he might scare off the fairies! He could eat them whole!” He gesticulates wildly with his arms to emphasise his point.

“Phai… I don’t think birds can eat fairies. Go to bed.” How rude, Reney. Your little brother was just suggesting some ideas.

“Well I’m not gonna test it!” Phainon protests, because he’s sleepy and doesn’t have a smooth train of thought. “I think that Nookie should never come near the fairies. He looks threatening.”

“Phainon, it’s a bird.”

“A huge bird! A huge yellow bird! With purple-tipped wings!”

“And what of it? Are you shaming the bird’s colour?”

“Cyrene!”

She just giggles and shoos him away, “Go to bed, Phai. You’re clearly in need of some sleep.”

He sighs, he can never win against her.

“Night, Cyrene.”

Phainon, like the filial little brother he is, only goes to bed after saying goodnight to the rest of his family. Nookie is asleep in his hands, and he rushes around.

“Night, dad!”

“Goodnight, Phainon. Goodnight, Nookie.”

-

“Night, mama!”

“Sweet dreams, dear. Make sure that companion of yours gets a good rest as well.”

“Okay, mama!”

-

“Cyrene, you didn’t say night to Nookie!”

“…Night, Nookie.”

“What was that?”

“Good-night, Nook-ie,” she enunciates.

Phainon shrugs, judging that as good enough.

-

“Goodnight Nookie,” he mumbles to the bird resting on his other pillow. He had wondered where to put Nookie to sleep, and a nest didn’t seem to be any of the available options. He has two pillows, why not use them?

Now the bird is laying on the pillow closest to the door, and Phainon is staring at it. It’s been sleeping ever since earlier, when Phainon had started to pet it. Its feathers were soft.

Phainon feels his eyelids getting achy and heavy. Time to rest. His vision fades to not-black static, because he had tried to look into the darkness once and found that it had colour.

His eyes open to a sea of stars. The sky is pitch-black, like ink, but it’s stained grey and blue and purple and pink and green from the millions, billions of stars swimming and blinking from eons away. Pieces of debris revolve around a spot in the middle, and there’s a huge blue spiral sprouting from there. It’s massive. The entire space seems to be alive. It’s magnificent, and Phainon thinks he would want to stay here forever.

He spins on the spot. Everywhere looks different but the same at the same time, vibrant and wondrous.

Looking down at his feet, he sees a golden spot of light. It seems to spread and branch out, but only in one direction: forwards.

Follow the way, he knows instinctively.

Phainon takes a shaky step forward. Then another. Then another, and he’s running along the golden thread like he’s being pulled along on a leash.

He’s scared. Where is he going?

He’s exhilarated. Isn’t that the fun of exploration?

He trips. Oh no.

Phainon is falling falling fallingfalllingdowndowndown

He’s flipped upside-down, headfirst into the water. Not water, something else. Something more.

And he’s greeted with a giant.

The giant is incredibly large, with beige-white hair and dark-ish skin. They’re ripped, both physicality wise and also literally. A huge golden gash streaks across their chest. Their arms are severed at first glance, but looking again, they’re floating in place where they would be. This person… is clearly a god. And not one of the titans Phainon is familiar with.

They look like something more. Like something from beyond the sky.

Phainon can’t help but feel a primal, inescapable fear. If he makes just one wrong move, if he sets this person off, there would be consequences of an unimaginable scale. Phainon has never been afraid of something intangible like the Titans, but there’s something he knows is worse than a titan right in front of him.

No time like the present to make a good impression.

He does the most daring and stupidest thing he’s done in a while.

His mouth opens to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a pathetic: “H-hi.”

The god does not respond.

“Hello? God-person, um, I’m Phainon. Please don’t kill me…?” He tries, to no avail. The god, again, does not respond. Their face stays in an impassive, stoic frown.

Inwardly, Nanook is panicking like the Finality had come for THEM, telling THEM it’s THEIR time to die before the universe is destroyed. Why, in the name of fuck, is Phainon in THEIR Path Space!?

Chapter Text

Phainon is in the Path Space. Fuck.

Phainon can’t find out that Nanook is Nookie. Double fuck.

“Greetings, child.” Nanook murmurs, hoping his voice doesn’t betray THEIR panic.

THEIR voice reverberates around the path space with an impossible echo, accompanied by ambient destruction noises. Nanook still doesn’t know how destruction is translated to noise, but it happens. THEY ignore inquisitive probing from some of THEIR Lord Ravagers wondering why THEY spoke.

Did THEY accidentally project THEIR voice to the denizens of Destruction? Triple fuck.

“Um. Hi.” Phainon repeats. Good. If Phainon is the more awkward one of the two, Nanook can’t be made fun of for matching his energy. “Where am I?”

“You are in my Path Space, child.” THEY should have added an explanation. Phainon, and all of Amphoreus, have no clue what the Aeons are, let alone paths. Lygus’ censoring worked too well, isolating them from the cosmos. THEIR vagueness can be blamed on being a divine-ish being, THEY guess. At least THEIR voice isn’t projecting, anymore. It just sounds like a large being is speaking, without all the echoes that come with being an Aeon.

Just as expected, Phainon asks for an explanation. “Sorry, but what is a… path space?”

THEY can sense the lack of proper capitalisation.

“The Path Space, child. This space is where Pathstriders come to meet Aeons.” Was that too vague again? THEY aren’t sure Phainon understood any of the important words.

“What are ‘Pathstriders’, and who are ‘Aeons?’” Phainon’s previous apprehension has faded quickly. He has barely any regard for deities, which Nanook finds impressive. Does THEIR divine form not intimidate this child? It was probably because THEY answered his questions so readily. If such a child had met the other Aeons, maybe he’d be least afraid of Nous. THEY like seeing everyone ask questions, and THEY would answer every single one.

“Aeons are the gods who embody and govern the concepts, known as Paths. Pathstriders are those who walk along these paths, and receive power from them.” Nanook really can’t be bothered with formal fancy language, but THEY can make an effort of it. “You, child, have begun to walk the Path of Destruction.” Please connect the dots, please connect the dots. Nanook doesn’t want to explain that THEY are the Aeon of Destruction.

Phainon gulps, a show of nervousness that relieves Nanook. So, this child does indeed have a healthy amount of fear for the divine. His mouth opens, then closes again, comparable to a fish.

“So you are… the Aeon of Destruction,” he finally asks, though it's more like a statement. “And I am… I walk the path of Destruction…?” Sadly, yes. “Does this mean I am fated to destroy… destroy things?” He looks horrified. Nanook gazes at him with pity, and THEY have no clue how to comfort such a child.

“Rememember this, child,” THEY can’t offer any platitudes, but THEY can give him the next best thing. “Your body is your own. Do not think you cannot transcend fate.”

Hope. Just like what Akivili had given THEM so long ago, when THEY believed THEIR homeland would stay safe.

Nanook is going soft for a child. This is less of an issue than THEY thought it was. Phainon doesn’t respond, instead closing his eyes and fading into consciousness.

—

“I had the weirdest dream last night,” Phainon says through his mouthful of breakfast, “I dreamed that I was in space, and there was this big guy who told me I could defeat fate.”

“Like the media series?”

“What?”

“Nothing!” Cyrene quickly shovelled food into her mouth to avoid confrontation. Phainon wouldn’t have confronted her, so she shouldn’t worry. She always says weird things, things that are cryptic or otherwise don’t make sense, and Phainon has never, ever poked and prodded at her like she’s so afraid of.

Does she know? Is she aware of some phantom change in him that even Phainon isn’t aware of?

Nookie, from the table next to Phainon’s plate, chirps like he knows what Phainon is thinking of, and is internally calling him an idiot. Phainon won’t take that lying down.

“Nookie, don’t say things like that! I am an adolescent! You can’t be mean to a child!” He scolds Nookie. Bad habits are best addressed early, or so Mama had said when she made Phainon stop eating flowers.

‘But muuum,’ he had protested, ‘I’m building up my flower poison tolerance!’. He was forced to enjoy gardening for two weeks after that.

Once again, there is a judgemental chirp from Nookie.

“I didn’t raise you without manners, young man!” Phainon has decided that Nookie must be a man - or boy - because every woman or girl Phainon knows is super nice and super smart, unlike Nookie.

Mama chuckles, “You remember that line, but not what I was scolding you for?”

Phainon bursts a radiant sunrise yellow, “You know I stopped eating flowers ages ago.” That’s a lie. He had snuck one in his mouth when he was going to the wheat fields to nap, just the other day.

Nookie freezes momentarily.

“Hey!” Phainon crosses his arms, slouching and pouting, “Nookie, it’s not that weird that I ate flowers as a child. You’re a bird, you eat like… worms. Snails and other icky stuff.”

But Nookie isn’t listening.

Instead, Nanook is focused fully on the golden flush of his face. THEY didn’t register the implications of having gold blood, before.

Everything involving blood in bodily processes would be dyed yellow, instead of the usual red. Not just bleeding. Things like blushing, or crying. They would make Phainon bloom a brilliant gold wherever they would normally turn red.

How has Nanook never realised this before? THEY scoured the lands for people with golden blood to accompany, yet THEY never came across anyone unnaturally golden?

THEY need to ask Nous for one of THEIR infographics on blood. Nanook is so uninformed about everything.

Nookie flops on the table, like he’s given up on the world.

“Nookie?”

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.
.

“Mama, Nookie’s dead!” Phainon panics. Cyrene perks up from where she’s staring at her plate. Dad sighs.

Evidently, Mama is the only capable person in the house, being the only one to offer suggestions. “Have you tried bribing Nookie with food, Phainon?”

She’s a genius.

-

Many rounds of asking ‘is this safe for birds?’ followed by either a resounding ‘no’ or trying to shove it into Nookie’s beak pass unsuccessfully, and Nookie stays limp on the table. His wings flutter unhappily, like he’s begging for someone to put him out of his misery.

Phainon slumps on the table, much like Nookie. Snowy, who Phainon’s hand is feeding under the table, slumps similarly on his lap. He quite likes his new bird friend, so seeing both his owner and his new friend being sad makes Snowy sad as well.

“Nookie, wake up…” Phainon whines, then Snowy does as well. Even the doubled, combined effort of two samoyed puppies weaponising their cuteness doesn’t affect Nookie in the slightest. At least they know he isn’t dead, from the tiny dum-dum-dum in his chest and the flutter in his wings.

“Phainon, why don’t you leave Nookie to rest, and you can play in the wheat fields with Snowy?” His dad easily placates poor Phainon, who’s petting Snowy for comfort. “A little bi—“ Wrong phrasing, let him try again, “One of the neighbours told me she planted new flowers in the communal garden, and they’re meant to bloom right around now.”

“Okay, dad,” he mumbles sadly, tempted by the pursuit of new flowers, “But you’ll call me when Nookie wakes up?” If Phainon had a choice, he wouldn’t leave Nookie’s side in the first place. Unfortunately, new flowers basically strip him of any choice other than sampling them.

Twin pairs of puppy eyes aim at Dad pleadingly. He can only oblige his son, “Of course, bud.” His dad answers with a smile.

Phainon rushes through eating the rest of his food, hit by a flash of inspiration. The earlier he gets in the fields, the quicker time will pass. It’ll feel like nothing at all before dad comes, notifying him of Nookie’s awakening. Snowy follows him around the house as he gently, gently sets Nookie down on his pillow, then gets dressed for outside time.

As he runs out the door, Snowy bounds after. Like owner like pet, or however the saying goes. Hieronymus sighs fondly at the door, left open.

-

Nanook is having a much less pleasant time. After giving up on proper existence as a bird, THEY had simply planned to rest on the table until THEY wanted another cookie, or something.

Instead, THEY found that the darkness had rapidly approached, forcing them into the dark of sleep. And that was fine. Sleep is good.

No. The illusion of rest was a complete and utter lie. Everything THEY had thought about that specific period of sleep was quickly overturned, because THEY had opened THEIR eyes in THEIR so-called dream to see something horrifying.

Every. Single. One. Of THEIR Lord Ravagers - excluding Phainon, because he technically wasn’t a Lord Ravager yet - was sitting at some conjured up dinner table in the Path Space. All scaled to the same size. Nanook sitting at the head. The table goes silent at THEIR arrival.

Twas a terror from THEIR worst nightmares. Would THEY outwardly show panic? No. Would THEY panic? THEY are panicking. What is one supposed to do when THEY, as the leader of some big evil organisation, is summoned by all the other sub-commanders? Show weakness? That’s an Aha-scale cosmic-grade joke. Nanook has never shown any emotion in front of THEIR Lord Ravagers except for impassiveness, and maybe a bit of anger.

The silence adds to the intimidation factor while Nanook gathers THEIR thoughts. The Lord Ravagers are frozen in their seats.

“Explain,” THEY say. One word. Short, simple, and sharp enough to cut through entropy and time. Very scary, especially coming from the Big Bad™.

Nobody has the guts to look up. Has Nanook ordered them to rise yet? They aren’t kneeling, but maybe…

“You may rise. Why am I here?” THEY ask once again. Venom doesn’t spill from THEIR lips, but it lingers in whatever unspoken threat THEIR Lord Ravagers imagine to exist after the fact. To be honest, THEY don’t want to stain the tablecloth with THEIR golden blood. That would ruin a perfectly good tablecloth, however contradictory to the metaphysical realm it may be.

A million questions stab THEM for the millionth time as every Lord Ravager seems to question THEIR words from like, 4-10 hours ago. Archforger is doing their little beep-boop communication, and even Luxbane is trying to project vague thoughts and images into THEIR mind in lieu of questions.

Nanook projected THEIR first line of dialogue with Phainon to all of THEIR Lord Ravagers, and now they’re questioning THEM.

Quadruple fuck.

Chapter Text

Ladies, ladies, there’s enough of THEM to go around, THEY want to say, except for how over half of THEIR Lord Ravagers are male-presenting. The moment those words come out of THEIR mouth, THEY’D have six different methods of THEIR own destruction aimed back at THEM. Major hazard.

“One at a time,” THEY say, keeping their posture upright for max intimidation factor. THEY’RE so glad that THEY’RE tall. A flat gaze lands on the person sitting at THEIR left.

Celenova speaks, not daring to look in THEIR eyes, “We heard your words, my Lord. Us ravagers are simply… Curious about the child you were speaking with.”

So it was about that. THEY really need to install a push-to-talk function, like Nous.

To give THEIR Lord Ravagers an answer, THEY must make a quick decision on what Phainon is gonna be in the future. Nanook can feel judgement breathing down THEIR neck, and an ominous countdown that sounds oddly reminiscent of that one game Aha had made. The trivia one, where you make a quiz and everybody else has to guess the right answer.

What do THEY pick?

OPTIONS

Red Triangle
THEMSELF pre-ascension

Blue Diamond
Phainon of Aedes Elysiae

Yellow Circle
Your new baby brother

Green Square
What Irontomb wishes it was

5
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.
.
4
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.
.
3: A little too swift?
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.
2
.
.
.
1
.
.
.
0

Nanook chooses the secret fifth answer. Did you guess correctly?

“Begin preparations,” THEY say with a certain finality. That phrase is perfectly vague, but THEY know the Lord Ravagers will go crazy over it, “The Sun is rising from the end of time.”

Will they prepare for liberation, destruction, a birthday party, or a baby shower? Find out next time, because Nanook’s consciousness is being rapidly pulled away. The last thing THEY see before THEY’RE engulfed by the darkness is growing horror on Asat Pramad’s hand-die-thing, and Celenova and Phantylia excitedly smirk at each other.

What did Nanook just unleash on the universe? Thoughts and prayers, everyone. Good luck dealing with two Lord Ravagers in a frenzy. It’ll be as fun for them as Nanook finding a child in THEIR path space, and subsequently panicking about it.

-

The Sea of Souls is not merciful to the unprepared. Luckily, Mydei has been living there for the past nine years, so he’s had ample time to adapt.

He scrambles, trying to latch on to a stable piece of debris. It breaks off. The remains are used to kill an unfortunate fish.

Mydei thinks that he’s much like this fish. Doomed to a terrible fate, stuck in the water with no reprieve. He can’t even drink this water, because it's filled with horrible bits that taint it a deep grey-black. He tried to drink it when he was very young. Nowadays, the only time he has water in his mouth is when he drowns. Which is, admittedly, very often.

Waking up and coughing water out of his lungs while trying to stay afloat is another kind of torture. He shoves the fish in his mouth.

The fish don’t even taste nice. They’re oddly dry, and too salty. They taste like dirt and rubbish and the remnants of souls, because this is the Sea of Souls and it has lots of souls in it. Are the fish souls as well? Who knows? Mydei certainly doesn’t, but he knows that it sucks to be killed and eaten twice.

Mydei’s gone through that too.

There are horrors lurking in the depths, worse than any human except for maybe Mydei’s father. The mere thought of that man fills him with such a hate that he takes it out on everything in his path. There are many, many places of carnage further downstream.

When he was just a baby, floating in the waters, his mother was a soul there. She had told Mydei what had happened to both of them, but the words had fallen on deaf baby ears. Now, echoes of someone long gone whisper in his waterlogged ears, depicting a tale of a betrayal so grand it upended Castrum Kremnos. And it taught him how to think in words.

When he gets out of here, he promises - when, not if - that he’ll get revenge on his father. Mydei will give King Eurypon a duel befitting a lowly HKS like him, and trounce him so badly that he’ll be forced to give up the crown and kill himself. The best revenge is seeing your enemy destroy themself from their own madness.

He wishes that his father is granted a merciless, brutal destruction. If he didn’t exist, his mother wouldn’t die. If he didn’t exist, Mydei wouldn’t exist, and he wouldn’t have to suffer through the raging tides.

If Mydei didn’t exist, rather, maybe his father’s advisors wouldn’t have warned him, and he wouldn’t have gone mad.

If Mydei dies here, maybe his father will regain his reason, and Castrum Kremnos would be safe.

Unfortunately, Mydei cannot die. Nor does he want to breathe his last in this damned river. So, he keeps swimming. Every time he stops, he gets pushed back, but he can move farther along than he retreats. Mydeimos is not Sisyphus.

He grunts and pushes against everything trying to stop him - everything being the water. Water getting places is exceedingly common in the sea, so he ignores it as he keeps moving.

He freezes when something enters his mouth. Some kind of liquid, something that had fallen down his face that isn’t seawater. It tastes salty, yes, but also unnaturally clean.

Tears, he realises. Mydei is crying. If anybody from Castrum Kremnos saw this — he’d be mocked for being a child. But, isn’t that so unfair?

Despite everything, Mydei is still a child at heart. Prone to expressing more emotion, capable of feeling fear and anger and sadness and allowed to let them take over. The water is deep in some places, and Mydei avoids those areas like the plague because he’s scared. He kills fishies and rips up debris and weeds from the seafloor because he’s angry. He cries because he’s sad.

He misses his mother. If Mydei could have anything, he’d wish for his mother to come back to him. Mydei wishes she was there to hug him like she did when he was an infant. Now, to be held is a fleeting dream he only feels when in the cold embrace of death, and he would die a million more times to glimpse what it would be like if his mother had stayed. She hadn’t abandoned Mydei, far from it, but by the titans does Mydei feel as such.

In the end, it all circles back to Eurypon. How had anyone ever called him king, once upon a time?

Wait for your Crown Prince, Castrum Kremnos. Mydeimos will save his people, whether they want to be saved or not, and Eurypon and all of his supporters will fall.

Mydei makes it through a long stretch of ocean before he falls once again, this time to exhaustion.

And wakes up in somewhere that isn’t the Sea.

-

There’s another child in Nanook’s Path Space. Instead of happy, healthy Phainon, this kid looks like they’ve come out of hell soaked and seething with anger.

What the fuck? Is THEIR first thought. Is this Aha’s doing? Is the second.

THEY had felt a growing ball of destructive emotions collecting and swelling in some grand crescendo. Nanook likes emotions. THEY like Xipe less so. Instead of waiting for Xipe to claim whoever felt in musical terminology, THEY had planned to glance at them first, locking them onto the path of Destruction by default.

But no, things could never be that simple, could they?

The soon-to-be pathstrider had grabbed on to the link THEY had formed and dragged themself into the Path Space. Likely without realising, Nanook realises as THEY gaze longer at the child.

Golden blood, odd hair… Where were THEY going to look, again?

This kid is one of those Chrysos Heirs from Amphoreus! But, THEY had scoured nearly all of Amphoreus’ lands before finding Phainon, how did THEY miss such a child? Nanook must have missed a spot.

THEY think, but they can only remember missing some place around Styxia. Its name eludes THEM.

Styx… Styx… Wait, Styxia’s named after that one river from the mythology of that civilisation Phantylia had brought to war.

This child is from the Sea of Souls.

…Who’s procreating in there!?