Chapter Text
Caelus woke up with dust in his mouth and the unpleasant realization that the ground was not where it was supposed to be. The detached train car lay broken open against the terrain, metal twisted like it had been peeled back by force rather than impact. For a moment, Caelus simply sat there, blinking, trying to convince his head to stop spinning long enough for him to take inventory of his limbs.
Then he saw Dan Heng. Dan Heng was slumped in the corner of the wreckage, his well-being uncertain. The sight punched straight through Caelus’s chest. He scrambled to his feet and crossed the debris-strewn floor in a few unsteady steps, kneeling beside him. Dan Heng’s face was turned slightly away, eyes closed, hair fallen loose from its usual neat restraint. “Dan Heng,” Caelus said, too fast, too loud. “Time to get up.”
Nothing.
For a horrible second, Caelus’s thoughts spiraled. He leaned closer, heart hammering, and then—
Wait— he sees Dan Heng's chest rising and falling, proof that life still lingers within him. Thank Akivili.
Relief came sharp and dizzying. Caelus let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, then immediately reached out and grabbed Dan Heng by the shoulder. Shake him hard. Dan Heng didn’t even twitch.
“…Okay,” Caelus muttered. “New plan.”
The ideas that followed were bad ones. Truly awful. He dismissed them just as quickly, cheeks burning, before settling on the most impulsive option his panic-addled brain could produce.
“…Sorry, Dan Heng.” Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation it is, maybe he'll finally feel the same way he felt back at the space station.
Dan Heng’s eyes stirred open. “…Sorry for what?”
Caelus froze, hand still hovering in the air. He stared at the black-haired man as if he’d just witnessed a miracle. This was embarrassing. “Oh,” he said weakly. “It’s nothing.”
Dan Heng frowned, pushing himself upright with a wince. “Ugh… How long were we out for?” He pressed a hand to his head, then looked at Caelus, eyes sharpening as he took him in. The other was alive. Dan Heng tried to calm himself down. Caelus was alive, living and breathing, he repeated in his head like a mantra. “You passed out when our car got hit. I blacked out too, but not before dragging you out. It's a good thing we were in the car, or we would've been crushed to pieces.”
Caelus swallowed. “You dragged me out?”
Dan Heng didn’t answer that. Instead, he shifted his attention outward, already assessing their surroundings. “...We should try making contact with the Express.” They did. And failed. Message failed to send glaring back at them from their phones, the silence on the other end heavy and wrong. Dan Heng’s expression tightened, but he didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he gestured for the other to follow him out of the wreckage.
The world beyond was vast and unfamiliar. Stone stretched outward in layered terraces, ancient and deliberate, as though the land itself had been shaped with intent rather than erosion.
“It looks like no one lives in this area,” Dan Heng said quietly, scanning the horizon. “And that strange creature from before is nowhere to be seen. But…” He stopped. “Look at that.”
Caelus followed his gaze. A giant sphere hung in the distance, suspended between earth and sky. At its peak, the sky itself seemed torn open—no, willingly parted—revealing a swirling vortex that reflected gold through the clouds.
“…A giant sphere,” Caelus breathed.
Dan Heng studied it intently. “Judging from the prevalence of these colossal structures, this civilization has more than just great engineers and architects. The structures also indicate a universal belief system.” Then, after a pause, “...If you want to take some photos, now would be the perfect time.”
Caelus smiled faintly and raised the camera. He framed the shot carefully, ignoring the strange feeling of being watched.
Afterward, Dan Heng directed him toward the cliffside gate. The massive doors stood silent, ancient, refusing to give up their secrets. Caelus snapped the photo just as his imagination began running wild—visions of carnage and abyss quickly chased away by the phantom echo of March 7th’s voice in his head.
The moment passed. It didn’t last.
Dan Heng went still, his voice sharpened instantly. “Something’s wrong… Watch out, Caelus!”
The attack came fast. Shapes surged from the shadows. Inhuman, silent, relentless. Dan Heng moved at once, spear flashing as Caelus swung his bat on instinct.
“These things aren't breathing,” Dan Heng said grimly. “...Inorganic lifeforms?”
They kept coming. Wave after wave. Caelus’s arms burned, lungs aching as he fought to keep up, the cliff edge looming behind them like a threat waiting to be realized.
“They just keep on coming,” Dan Heng muttered. “How do we break free from this…?"
Then something cut through the chaos. A blur of motion from above. White hair. Clean, decisive strikes. The monsters fell apart almost effortlessly, scattering like broken dolls. Caelus barely had time to register it before his bat was snatched from his hands. The white-haired youth passed close, a bit too close, and for a brief instant, something shifted in the air.
Phainon noticed it immediately. Sweet. Too sweet. His steps faltered, not visibly, not enough for anyone else to catch, but his senses sharpened all the same. A scent he didn't expect, a scent that didn’t match stone or steel or smoke.
An omega?
Phainon’s thoughts stalled, incredulous. Male omegas were rare enough to be spoken of like myths, and this one...No marks. No signs. No escort-
His eyes flicked, almost unwillingly, to the dark-haired man at Caelus’s side.
Ah. That explained it.
Dan Heng lunged, spear raised.
“Look out—!”
Phainon deflected the blow and snapped the spear cleanly in half, forcing distance between them. “You’ve got something… interesting,” he said aloud, tone even.
Inside, his thoughts were anything but. This was going to be a problem.
“I bear no harm,” Phainon continued, stepping back deliberately. “I just want everyone to be safe.”
Dan Heng echoed him cautiously. “Everyone to be safe?”
Phainon explained, eyes never fully leaving Caelus. The Strife Titan. The refugees. The danger of brandishing weapons here. Dan Heng listened, measured, unconvinced but controlled. “A civil approach gets your message across all the same.” Phainon studied him more carefully now. Strong. Restrained. Dangerous in a quiet way. Definitely an alpha.
Before the tension could tighten further, voices burst into the temple. Tribbie arriving in a whirlwind of noise and complaints. Phainon sighed, tension easing just enough to let the moment pass. Introductions followed. Apologies were made.
“I’m Phainon from Aedes Elysiae,” he said at last.
Dan Heng inclined his head. “I'm Dan Heng. This is—”
“I’m the Galactic Baseballer,” Caelus said, hands on his hips with the biggest smile on his face.
Phainon blinked, then smiled faintly. “That sounds mighty impressive, but I'm guessing it's a nickname?”
“…Caelus.”
The name settled strangely in Phainon’s mind. He returned the bat, then turned, gesturing for them to follow. Tribbie promises Dan Heng's spear fixed later on, apologizing on Phainon's behalf. Phainon had forgotten he had done that; he stared at the alpha, and his eyes narrowed. Only an alpha like that deserved an omega like that, he supposes, but still, Caelus bared no mark that means he was still free to be courted. Interesting.
As they walked, Phainon kept his distance. He didn’t say anything about the scent. He didn’t need to. Amphoreus would notice soon enough.
Phainon glanced back once, eyes lingering on Caelus before snapping away.
Yes. This was definitely going to be a problem.