Chapter Text
"Deliverer, we've been through so much together. You've helped me avenge my mother and crown myself in my father's blood; you've held my corpse every time I died, warmly welcoming me back to life as I returned from the River of Souls. You've made sure to watch my back when no one else would. After everything, I need to confess that your resilience and boundless care have caused me to… fall in love with you."
Phainon squeals, nearly throwing the book across the room in his excitement. It's happening! Mydeimos is finally revealing his feelings to the Hero! It took almost the entire story, but the slow burn had been worth it: by now, Phainon can wholeheartedly say he had also fell in love with the book itself. The worldbuilding had been incredibly immersive, the story captivating, and the characters themselves—oh, the characters! Phainon can't think of any fictional character he's grown to love as much as he loves Mydeimos, the Undying King of Castrum Kremnos. He's been reading nonstop, even dreaming of the plot every other night, that's how insane of a grip this world has on Phainon's mind.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he dives back into the book, scanning the words like they hold the meaning of life itself.
"Mydeimos… I, too, have a confession to make."
Curious, the king tilted his head, peering up at the Hero with hope and anticipation alike, "What is it, my dear?"
My dear! Oh, Phainon could actually yell if he was the Deliverer. Who would think that Mydeimos would ever use such sweet pet names? His gap moe really knows no bounds.
The nameless Hero hesitates, glancing away, "Love, could you… turn away, please? I find myself feeling too shy to say it when you look at me like that."
There's a pause, but not a heavy one. Mydeimos considers him quietly, before releasing an amused huff, "You're so silly sometimes."
He does as he's told. The trust he feels for the Deliverer is not one to be taken lightly; he would, perhaps, do anything the Hero would ask of him, even if it means leaving his weak spot vulnerable to him.
It is the only mistake Mydeimos would never get the chance to regret; in the next moment, the Hero drives his heavy sword through the King's back, killing him in an instant. Golden blood oozes from the fatal wound, splattering all over the Hero's front.
"I am not who you take me for, Mydeimos," he whispers into the silence that falls, interrupted only by the sound of blood dripping onto the floor.
The book slides out of Phainon's hold, thumping against the bedsheets he's resting on. What the hell? No, seriously, what the hell just happened? Did he doze off? Did he hallucinate that? There's no way he read this correctly, the Deliverer would never do that! And Mydeimos–
Mydeimos… can't die. He can't be dead. Not after everything. Phainon refuses to believe it. He blinks back the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes, picking the book back up and staring blankly at the page.
"Khaos!"
The Hero—or rather, the man who looks just like the Hero—turns, meeting the identical gaze of the real Deliverer.
"Khaslana. Took you long enough."
The Deliverer shakes, though whether from fury or sorrow, one may only guess. He stares at the corpse of Mydeimos, the love of his life who will never wake up again, and back up at the twin brother he'd thought he'd lost.
"Khaos, you–" he chokes out, but the sentence gets broken off by a sob, "You're the Flame Reaver?! You, of all people? Why would you– No, how could you do this to me? To us? How could you kill Mydeimos?!"
Khaos meets his eye head-on, "You've taken everything from me, brother. It is now my turn to do the same to you."
Phainon reads the rest of the scene in complete silence. His eyes track over the ending again and again, as if restarting it would have changed the result in any way, trying to wrap his had around the plot twist that he'd never even seen coming. As much as he could admire the author for pulling something like this off without making it obvious throughout the entirety of the book, once he's finished the story, Phainon feels… empty.
The death of Mydeimos haunts him.
It happened so quickly, came so out of nowhere… and to Phainon's horror, he realizes he's openly crying by the time he finally chucks the book over to his desk. This can't be how the story really ends. It can't. He's well aware that he went into it blindly, but from the mood of the writing up until the very last chapter, he really wouldn't have thought it would turn out as a tragedy. He had fully expected—even hoped for—a good ending for Mydeimos and the Deliverer.
He can't do this. He needs to distract himself somehow. Maybe get some sort of sweet treat, or something. Either that or some alcohol to drown his woes in. He's never been one to drink much but this ending has truly shaken him.
Before he knows it, he's halfway out the door, wallet in hand, and making his way towards the nearest convenience store. His head feels light, and the dizziness causes him to trip over his own feet, but it's fine. He's not distressed! It's fine! He'll buy himself something nice. Something tasty. He'll treat himself. Anything to forget the way Mydeimos was killed off just like that, as if only for the shock value.
The Flame Reaver… Khaos. That's who killed Phainon's favorite character. He'd briefly shown up every now and then throughout the story, but not nearly enough to actually seem like anything more than a passing, ultimately unimportant antagonist. But with the reveal at the end, it adds so much context to everything, and despite himself, Phainon can't help connecting all the dots he's missed until then. The hints were there, but only once the reader knew where to look. Infuriating, really, in its genius storytelling. Despite his respect for the author, Phainon still can't help but feel cheated.
He grits his teeth as he thinks. Khaos… If only he didn't exist. If only he wasn't aware of Mydeimos' weak spot. If Flame Reaver hadn't been in the right place at the right time, he would have never even learned of it, and would have no way to permanently kill the king!
It's been so long since Phainon despised a made up character so much, which is only amplified by just how quick the Flame Reaver managed to get under his skin. If only he wasn't fictional, Phainon would hunt him down for what he'd done to Mydeimos. His pace quickens, uneasy and unreasonably infuriated.
I hate the Flame Reaver. I hate him, hate him! How could he murder Mydeimos in such cold blood?!
With that thought, blinded by the rage and oblivious to his surroundings, Phainon turns directly into oncoming traffic.
He doesn't expect to wake up, yet his eyes slide open to an unfamiliar scene. A beautiful, cloudless sky blanketing a seemingly endless field of grass he now finds himself in. Phainon had grown up in a small town before moving to the capital, but even his hometown couldn't compare to the view that greets him. It's so… peaceful. especially compared to his most recent memory.
Phainon blinks. And then he instantly pushes himself upwards, almost tripping in his haste to stand up and look around. Where even is he? More importantly, how is he here? He'd died, he's sure he had, so nothing about this current situation makes sense. Phainon had never been a religious person, but as his thoughts flit through the possibilities, he briefly considers the idea of this being some sort of afterlife—whatever this is. The empty field holds no answers.
Something else does, however.
[[ Rise and shine, User! ]]
Phainon almost falls over again when he sees the notification pop up right before his eyes. In literal air. As if that's normal. Though, to be fair, nothing about this place feels particularly normal so far, "What the hell–"
[[ Σ(°□°˶) I'm sorry, User! Didn't mean to scare you– ]] another nearly transparent box replaces the first one, and Phainon has no other choice but to reluctantly read it, [[ Please don't be alarmed! ]]
His eyes narrow at the text. That's a tall order, given the circumstances.
"What… are you?"
[[ I'm the System! ⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ]]
Sure, yeah, makes perfect sense. He doesn't voice his sarcastic thoughts, but it's like this… system thing can read them anyway, based on the next pop up.
[[ I know this seems really weird, User, but please listen. As the System, my job is to guide you through this world! ]]
That gets Phainon's attention. He considers the little text box in curious silence, a part of him wishing there was a face he could link the words to. Or something. It's weird to look at plain text floating in mid-air like that. Can't exactly make eye-contact with such a thing.
[[ Does this unsettle you, User...? ]] it immediately adds, [[ If you want, I can take on a temporary form! Anything for the User's comfort! (˶◜ᵕ◝˶) ]]
"Temporary form?" he repeats, befuddled, "You know what, sure."
There's a sound then, like a balloon popping. It catches Phainon off-guard, and he looks around for the source of it, confusion only rising until he finally drops his gaze to the ground just to see–
"…A beetle?"
[[ A nymph, actually! ٩(>ᴗ<)و ]] the blue text box now appears directly above the beetle-nymph-whatever-the-fuck, [[ (｡•́︿•̀｡) Please don't swear so much, User, it doesn't suit you... ]]
A blink, "What does that even mean?"
[[ You look too cute to swear like a sailor, User. Soft! Like a puppy! ]] Phainon frowns at the comment—though, to anyone but him the expression would look more like a pout—and decides to drop the subject. The System goes on, [[ Anyway, I can appear to you as one of Mnestia's nymphs during moments of rest. No need to worry about any characters' reactions: they will see nothing more than a cute Titankin! ദ്ദി・ᴗ・)✧ ]]
Characters? Titankin? The more the System talks the less it makes sense. Before Phainon could ask for an explanation for those, though, he'd rather ask something else first, "Why do you keep calling me User?"
[[ Because you're the player assigned to me! ]]
Phainon stares at the nymph blankly. The critter flutters its wings and elaborates, [[ I'm sure you're aware of your own death, User. But fear not! You've been granted a second chance! This world reflects your innermost desire. ]]
The empty field rustles with a gust of wind, like it, too, can't quite believe the System's claim. Innermost desire? Even Phainon himself wouldn't know what that could be—and as nice as their current surroundings are, they're also kind of… boring. Hardly befitting of someone's innermost desire.
"So what is this, exactly?"
[[ In your last moments, you wished you could change the plot of a certain book. ]]
Phainon's eyes widen. No. Absolutely not.
[[ A hundred times yes! You've been transmigrated into the story of Coronal Radiance! You've taken over the body of one of the primary characters (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ]]
"What–" the primary characters? Not even someone from the sidelines? This isn't… ideal. As much as he enjoyed the book—until a certain moment, at least—he doesn't think he'd want to actually experience the things they've gone through. The journey of the Flame-Chase that was described throughout the chapters wasn't an easy one. But if Phainon is here now, then, "Which one of the primary characters…?"
[[ Khaos! ]]
Phainon can physically feel his blood freezing over.
"Khaos…?"
The Flame Reaver. Not the Hero, nor his love interest, or any of their fellow Flame-Chasers; no, the secret mastermind himself. The one character that Phainon wholeheartedly despises.
"What do you mean I've… taken over the Flame Reaver's body?" he asks, voice strangely hollow, "How even– How does that work? What happened to the actual Khaos?"
[[ Why do you think you woke up in some empty field? He tripped and hit his head. Did you not notice the puddle of blood? ]]
"The puddle of–"
Phainon looks down, then immediately regrets his decision, barely holding back a shriek. His only saving grace is that, unlike the real world—is this… not a real world?—he isn't met with the crimson one would expect. All of the main characters happened to be Chrysos Heirs, with ichor running in their veins. The blood left behind from Khaos' unlikely accident doesn't look nearly as gruesome when it's a beautiful shade of gold—still, though, it's hard to admire the color given the context.
He has to force himself to look away, "Does that mean… Khaos is dead?"
[[ Indeed! But not for long—you're here now, and you get to fill in his role! ☆ ]]
"But that's–" Phainon can't hold back a wince, "This makes no sense. This didn't happen in the book."
[[ Details! ]] the System shoots back [[ This world is based on Coronial Radiance, yes, but you may find some differences while you explore, as some aspects of it were changed for the User's enjoyment! Take poor Khaos, for example. You'd be unable to take his place if not for this direct intervention. ]]
That's… terribly ominous. The System can look adorable all it wants, but some of the things it says genuinely unsettle Phainon.
[[ I'm sorry, User! Just saying it as it is (ˊ~`;) ]]
"Sure…"
This is insane. Phainon hasn't even fully processed his own death yet, and now he's expected to—what? Not freak out? To feel normal about all of this? Not a single thing about this situation sits right with him! But, at the same time… is there really anything he can do other than accept what he's been thrust into?
Okay. He needs to think about this calmly. Panicking will get him nowhere.
He takes a deep, steadying breath, slowly sliding his eyes shut as he makes a mental list of everything he's learned of the Reaver: not just the surface-level knowledge, but everything the author hid from the reader until the last minute reveal.
At first glance, Coronial Radiance seemed like a book that focused entirely on the Hero's journey. Mydeimos, his love interest, played an important role in the story as well; if anything, their romance had been mostly kept in the background until the Deliverer's main goal had been reached. That specific subplot would be easy to forget given the amount of action packed alongside it—and for good reason, apparently. This was the author's goal: to lull the reader into a false sense of safety, assuming the book to be one of those stories where all the good guys get plot armor and manage to win against the evil in the end—just to smack the reader with the discovery that it had been a tragic love story all along.
If one doesn't question the narrator, they'd believe that the entire book is told from the perspective of the protagonist, the unnamed Deliverer. Meanwhile, the Flame Reaver poses as a throwaway villain, one who doesn't speak or ever mention his motive, as if only existing to stir up some chaos. Knowing what he does now, Phainon finds that statement a little bit humorous, but not enough to actually laugh.
It's the ending of the book that causes the readers to question everything previously shown. The familial relationship between Khaos and Khaslana, kept a secret from everyone, even the oblivious Hero himself, reveals the unreliable nature of the narrator—of Khaos. With the Flame Reaver and the Deliverer being a pair of identical twins, half the scenes include the actual antagonist pretending to be his heroic brother, rather than Khaslana himself. Watching. Learning. Indistinguishable from his counterpart, which by itself fully establishes Khaos as the mastermind of the story. It is during one of those times that the love interest reveals his weak spot to who he thinks is the Deliverer, but is actually the Flame Reaver—and the knowledge is later used against Mydeimos and Khaslana both. The brutal death scene speaks for itself.
If Phainon was transmigrated as the Hero, he could easily prevent that from happening through his familiarity with the book; all it would take is to make sure that Mydeimos divulges the secret to the right person. But with Phainon as Flame Reaver? Khaos? The main antagonist himself?
"System," he says, voice tight, "If I took the place of Khaos… Do I have to follow his fate?"
Do I have to kill Mydeimos?
[[ … ]]
It doesn't reply immediately. A little loading screen appears next to the nymph, as if the System has to make sure of some details before it could actually respond to Phainon.
[[ Good news, User! (￣^￣ )ゞ ]] it finally chirps up. Phainon sucks in a breath, not daring to feel too hopeful just yet, [[ As this experience is curated specifically to your last wish, you don't have to stay true to the book. Your main issue was with the Flame Reaver's actions, so this is your chance to change them to your liking! You can rewrite the antagonist to be anyone you'd like, as long as you remain one of the main characters! ]]
That's a relief, but… it still doesn't sound ideal. Phainon squints, "So… I can't just leave? I still need to play some part in the plot?"
[[ Correct! ]]
God damn it.
[[ (ᵕ—ᴗ—) What was that, User? ]]
"Nothing," he mutters out loud, dragging a hand down his face, "It's just… As much as I loved reading about Mydeimos and the Deliverer, I didn't exactly think I'd ever have to interact with them. If I could just, I don't know, go settle down in the remains of Aedes Elysiae and pretend I'm just some background NPC… It'd be easier, no? Maybe even fun."
Aedes Elysiae was the hometown of the tragic twins. It had burned down before they even reached their teenage years, but many of the villagers fortunately survived, and even managed to somewhat rebuild it later on in the story. That event had also been the moment the twins lost contact with each other, with the Deliverer firmly believing Khaos to have died during the accident. Given Phainon's—well, Flame Reaver's—appearance, who seems to be close in age to Phainon himself before his own untimely death, he could estimate that the village probably exists once more, though most likely in a poorer state than it was before the disaster.
Phainon had always liked the idea of living somewhere by the countryside. He's sure he would enjoy helping rebuild Aedes Elysiae, but if he can't stray too far from the main characters… well, that's out of the question. It does make him wonder, though: where does he even live? The book itself never revealed the Flame Reaver's residence—or anything personal, for that matter, apart from his connection to the Hero and apparently insane wit.
[[ No worries, User! Remember, the System is here for you! Just say the word, and I'll show you the way home! ]]
Home. Could it really be called that? Phainon doubts he could so easily accept an entirely unfamiliar residence as his new home. How can he pretend to truly belong? What of his real home? The life he left behind? His friends, his parents?
[[ User… ]] the System pings. The nymph flies over to sit on Phainon's shoulder, as if trying to comfort him, [[ Please don't fret over such things right now… You're making me worry (ó﹏ò｡) ]]
Phainon's lips twitch, "Maybe stop calling me that first. It's making me uncomfortable. I'd rather be called by an actual name."
[[ Khaos? ]]
His face sours further. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to being associated with the Flame Reaver, "No. Phainon. If I already have to take control of his body, at the very least I want to keep my name. I don't…" he trails off, letting out a huff, "I don't want to become like him."
[[ Understood, Phainon! ]] the nymph flutters lightly in his peripheral vision, [[ Do you wish to head to the Flame Reaver's residence, then? •ᴗ• ]]
Does he wish to? Not really. But does that sound like the best course of action right now? Yes.
"Lead the way, please. I should probably check this body for any remaining injuries," as soon as the words leave his mouth, an icon that's weirdly similar to an in-game quest tracker pops up over his field of view, indicating a location somewhere over the horizon alongside the overall distance. It's incredibly weird to look at and doesn't disappear even when Phainon experimentally shuts his eyes, but at this point, he can't even bring himself to feel startled. Too much bizarre information had already been dumped on him; he probably wouldn't even blink if a dromas materialized from thin air above him and immediately crushed him.
[[ That could be arranged ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭ ]] the System says, jokingly. Well, Phainon hopes it's a joke.
[[ It is! You need to loosen up, Phainon ꉂ (˵ •̀▽•́ ˵ ) ]] as if the past, what, twenty minutes haven't been the most insane thing that happened to him in his life? …After-life? Whatever.
[[ Also, if you really want to know your current physical well-being, you can just ask me. I have the ability to scan you for any type of injury! ]]
Well, Phainon isn't sure how to feel about that. Sure, it will most likely turn out useful in the future, but at the moment… it only makes this entire situation feel even less real. Uncomfortably so.
"Am I at risk of passing out any time soon?" he settles on.
The System makes some weird, chirping sound, before the nymph form it took earlier dissipates into a mist of sparkles, [[ Doesn't seem like it! You should be fine to walk all the way to your destination („• ֊ •„)੭ ]]
That's good enough. Phainon eyes the tracking icon with a flick of interest and sets off.