How many universes are there in the known multiverse? Clearly, the answer is infinite. The true amount is merely a concept, unable to be comprehended in a physical sense. Yet still, it exists in one way or another.
-👓
As an acquaintance would say, "The possibilities are quite endless. An outcome that exists only in my mind would be a reality in another universe."
My research so far tells me I cannot reject this hypothesis.
So, if this is truly the case.. Is there at least one where you are alive and well? If I can envision it in my mind, then it must be true somewhere in the vast number of universes, infinite as they are.
Right?
But... if this weren't true. If such a version of you doesn't exist...
Then, I'll forge it out of nothing, with my own bare hands. Even with the limited time I have—grasping at my own fading memories... It would be all worth it if I can ensure that there is one universe where you survive. Or at the very least, your 'soul' will still remain in this plane of existence. Whatever might constitute a 'soul' for beings of our kind.
"Don't you see, Nicrom? How loved you are? Never believe for a second that you weren't."
Two fusions stood at the edge of a pool of water. The dark violet that stared back implied an infinite depth, though physically impossible.
"Are you sure about this?"
"...Is there anything else worth staying for?"
The fusion donning a hat smiled grimly, "I suppose, if you put it like that... Perhaps this is the best path for you, my friend. But be warned, you may start to lose yourself the longer you follow this path."
The other looked up at him, shaking his head, "I'd argue that happened a long time ago, Echelon."
"I see... Well, if this truly is what you want, I can only bid you farewell and good luck."
"You do think he's out there, right?"
Echelon stares into the pool, a thoughtful expression upon his features, "He is if you believe him to be. And I do, for your sake."
"Hah... Is that so... How kind of you."
"I only wish the best for you, Laevis. To lose someone dear to you... It is a familiar pain."
Laevis doesn't reply, merely crouching down and dangling his legs into the murky pool. It's thicker than water, but the same substance nonetheless. He could already fill the tingle in his legs.
All that was left was to submerge himself fully. According to his calculations, this would place him at a crossroads of sorts. Theoretically.
"The mission is just a parcel delivery. You know what to do." Cinnabar didn't even look up from his desk as he pushed forth a slip of paper towards Nicrom, "Deliver it as soon as possible."
-👓
A mere delivery wasn't a surprise to him, he knew the work was calmer in the night. He liked the change of pace. Many of the fusions in the Agency would disagree with him though.
"Nicrom. Take Laevis with you," Cinnabar said before he stepped out of the room. He turns and looks at the triad.
"...Why?"
"I don't recall paying you to ask questions," the look Cinnabar gave him was a familiar one. Nicrom didn't bother pressing his luck. It was a waste to ask anyway.
"Yeah.. Alright." Time to force Laevis outside again..
He was starting to suspect that Cinnabar often told him to do this just so Laevis wasn't inside all the time. Not unlike taking a dog for a walk. Of course, Nicrom didn't think of it that way. It's not like Laevis was averse to going outside, he just didn't like it if Nic wasn't accompanying him. Maybe he finds it amusing.
Nicrom stops as he enters the common room, usually filled with other fusions, but now dead silent in the middle of the night. However, it wasn't completely devoid of life.
"Well, at least I don't have to go to your room."
He looks up to a half-screwed grille on the wall.
"I'm guessing you already heard what Cinnabar said."
Not to his surprise, Laevis pops out of the vent, causing the grille to fall with a raucous metallic clatter.
"Aww.. When did you find out?"
"The second I left your room. You know it makes a lot of noise when a grate falls on your table?" Nicrom bent down and picked up the grille and its scattered screws.
Laevis frowned, "No fun.. I can't surprise you anymore!"
The shorter fusions swings out from the air vent, landing on the carpeted floor, "Soo.. You got a boring mission!!"
"I like boring," Nicrom pushed the grille to Laevis, who took it with his sleeves.
"No, you don't," grinned Laevis. He tossed the grille onto a sofa, "I'll fix this later!"
Nicrom decided to pocket the screws. Though, knowing Laevis, he probably had spares upon spares within his coat.
"Right.. Let's go then. We still have to pick up the thing."
Laevis flapped his sleeves in glee as they headed towards the building's exit.
Laevis half-mindedly scrutinizes Nicrom's hands. His calloused fingers and the nicotine stains in between. The excessive warmth of his palm, the size for which he made most of his weapons' handles.
"You don't take care of your hands. You need those, you know," said Laevis, turning it over to see the scars and discolorations on the back. Flaws usually hidden by gloves.
"They do the job," Nicrom replied. Nonchalant as always. Or maybe he was too tired to care—judging by his sluggish movements when he walked in.
He stares for a while before frowning, "That isn't enough!"
Laevis often hid his hands within long thick sleeves, and while he did fingerpaint every so often, he made sure to keep them clean. Hands were something to be taken care of... A vital part of the body. They were used every day, even more so for Laevis, whose time was spent delicately crafting equipment and machinery.
The same could be said for Nicrom, yet he somehow didn't see the need in taking care of his hands. Laevis couldn't understand it.
"It always heals itself anyway."
Laevis recounts the numerous times he's had to heal Nicrom himself, but doesn't say it aloud.
Instead, he says, "That's dumb."
Nicrom shrugs, "It doesn't matter, either way."
But it does... Laevis brings Nicrom's hand to his own cheek. Its warmth was similar to a heated battery. The scars across his palm were rough, but somehow it was comforting to press against.
"Silly Nicky. If you don't take care of your hands, I might not like them anymore."
"Hm.."
Laevis closes his eyes, leaning into Nicrom's palm, "At least try to save one part of yourself."
For Nicrom, it was always used along the tones of, "I want them dead. I want it done clean. I want it done by tonight." No room for error, which he never commits anyway.
He has never used this word, he's never had a reason to. He couldn't afford to be so selfish.
So the first time he meets Laevis, he's at a loss.
The feeling of magnetism, the voice that tells him to go back. Nicrom doesn't know why.
But he gives in anyway, despite it being an obvious vulnerability on his part.
That selfishness.
He doesn't know how to say it, doesn't know how to speak like Laevis does, even if mostly nonsense came out of the trio fusion's mouth. Sometimes, his stomach churned in annoyance—whether at himself or at Laevis, he didn't know—and sometimes he was relieved Laevis filled the silence for him.
"I..." Nicrom says to himself in the mirror, but he falters. And he punches the wall in frustration, retreating to the training rooms to tear apart training dummies the whole day.
Then at night, he lingers in the meeting room. Where he avoids Laevis, yet still staying close by; waiting for a new mission to take up.
He has never been himself ever since he met Laevis.
It was maddening, almost. How kind the trio fusion was towards him, how he clings onto Nicrom as if stuck on with super glue, how he holds his hands with gentleness Nicrom has barely, if not never, felt.
Worst of all, he lets Laevis treat him this way. Why?
Because Nicrom's become greedy. Comfortable in his environment.
Want. Want. Want. A voice tells him, when he stares at Laevis from across a room. When he passes by the door to his workshop. When he finds his lips on Laevis', fueled by baffling fervor.
Like the addict he was, he had spiraled down even further.
"I want..." he whispers to himself, like a child saying a newly-learned word. He tests it.
But it doesn't feel right. So he never says it again, not even in private.
Nicrom only shows it in the tight embraces he envelopes Laevis in at the end of an exhausting day, in the way he takes his hand without hesitation, in the way he watches the trio fusion work.
He says nothing, and Laevis says everything.
It continues like this for months, for years.
And nothing.
Nothing until there really is nothing.
Only the shattered remains of a sword, devoid of its pair. And paragraphs of words left unsaid.
Nicrom has a lot of regrets, and this is perhaps the greatest of them all.
He could have been selfish, greedy. Could have told the truth.
"You ever wonder... is there anything else for us out there?"
-👓
Laevis turns his head to face Nicrom, whose back was against the railing as he took a deep drag of his cigarette.
"Anything else...?" Laevis echoed, as if he's never heard the term.
"Beyond all this fighting, and whatever you do," Nicrom sighed, pausing as his eyes gently shut, "nevermind. It's stupid."
Pondering carefully, Laevis reached forward to take Nicrom's free hand, holding it with his own.
He's warm, was Laevis' first jarring thought when he first met Nicrom, Warmer than anything else.
Laevis says lots of things, rarely keeping his thoughts to himself, yet he'll never bring up the way his hand fits just right in Nicrom's and only Nicrom's. The way Nicrom waits for him to let go instead of pulling away. The way Nicrom casually switches the hand he uses for smoking based on where Laevis is.
He was perceptive to body language, but it halted at the emotions behind them. Laevis knew no more about Nicrom but his actions, lacking the ability to understand why.
It left him grasping at straws.
"Heheh... Beyond Cinnana's agency?" Laevis said, his laugh devoid of any mirth, "I dunno, is it really worth knowing?"
"I guess not." Nicrom taps the ash from his cigarette, eyes opening to gaze up at the sky. "...It wouldn't matter anyway, this is the life we've got. And it's all we'll ever get."
Laevis breathes in the smoke, swiftly carried by the breeze that brushes past them. Fleeting, burning. It doesn't bother him. It's Nicrom's scent.
"You're such a party pooper, Nic," Laevis joked, swinging their hands side to side, "We're here. We made a deal with Cinnana. That's enough."
"I suppose." Nicrom stared at his cigarette, the embers had burnt it down to the filter. Nothing else to smoke.
Laevis watches on as Nicrom rubs the burnt end to the railing, and he drops it over the ledge. He tiptoes and watches it fall, before all the cars and passers-by catch his attention down below.
"Better than nothing at all," said Nicrom, his gaze already so far away.
Let me give you this nameless flower, and may the spring-times you never saw mean nothing to you.
-👓
Laevis hums as they traverse the park, overgrown and wilting at the same time. Flowers that had long died, crumpled and shattered into miniscule fragments underneath their feet. The grass, an unpleasant shade of brown that reached their waists, parted for them.
Nicrom wonders, how this place would have looked like, before the end began. Perhaps, it would have seemed straight from a painting they saw in the last museum they visited. A sea of green, dotted with vibrant colors of bloomed flowers.
The sight of which he was never privileged to see with his own eyes. No, he only remembered the cold and falling powdery snow, and the darkness after that.
Until he was reborn again—suffering, living, breathing again. Destined to run in circles endlessly, to feel that pain.
Was it all worth it? To go through all of that?
A warm hand tugs at his, stringing him along.
Nicrom blinks.
"Whatcha thinking about?" asked Laevis, who looked up at him with wide, round eyes.
He considered saying nothing, Laevis wouldn't mind anyway. But he feels differently this time.
"...I wish we could have seen this place before it all ended," Nicrom said, "It'd have been better to walk through."
Laevis hummed thoughtfully, "That's what you think? I couldn't care less either way."
"Really?" Well... It was Laevis after all. It wouldn't be like him to enjoy anything else than tinkering with machinery and other mechanical things, and desserts, of course. Focus on anything but his obsessions was few and far between.
"But if you like it, then I do too," added Laevis, a grin plastered on his face.
Nicrom gazed at him, "..Right... Did you learn that from one of your books?"
Laevis' expression twists, "How did you know?!"
He looked away, decidedly unimpressed, "You'd never say that. Not in a million lifetimes."
High-pitched laughter rings throughout the park as a hand squeezes his.
"Aw.. but it's true though.
Somehow, Nicrom doesn't doubt that.
They rested beneath a wilting tree, shaded from the sun's red glare. A gentle wind blew, caressing his hair. Or was that Laevis? Nicrom didn't bother to find out.
Instead, he idly watches the scarlet clouds pass by.
The red sky stretched endlessly beyond the horizon. A shade of dark red that reflected the blood spilled just for them to reach this point. To be together at last, at the very end of the world.
It was ironic—a cruel twist of fate—that they find eternity in each other, at the edge of destruction. Their destinies are intertwined so deeply, yet every meeting before this was so short-lived. After all, it is also a part of their shared destiny to lose each other. Again, and again, and again.
Yet this life...
A browned, dry leaf disintegrated midair as it fell from a branch.
"I don't think I would exchange anything else for this."
He says aloud, Laevis' tendency of speaking his mind has well infected Nicrom. And he doesn't care much for it. It somehow feels... freeing. Like a weight off his chest.
"If the world has to end... I'd gladly let it, even at the cost of the suffering of others. I think that.. It's okay to be selfish."
They had missed so much opportunities to be.
But not now.
Beside him, Laevis shifts.
"In that case, was everything worth it?"
"..."
"Would this moment matter as much if we hadn't gone through everything else?" Laevis continued, "Is this.. beautiful to you, Nicrom?"
He looked to Laevis, who played with slivers of dry grass. An ache seizes his heart, he knows he's seen this many times before.
"..Don't you think so?" Nicrom leaned back.
"I'm not sure," replied Laevis.
Nicrom can't help but chuckle, "I guess.. It is beautiful."
Laevis looks up at him, "Then it is."
"..Then it is."
He watches as Laevis stands up and wanders to the patches of taller grass. Soon, he's out of sight. Eventually, he'll come back, contrary to the times before, so Nicrom lets himself relax.
Nicrom stretches out his own wings, catching the soft breeze that blows by.
They've nearly explored most of the city. A remnant from their past... When they met this time, Nicrom decided they would revisit each place with the time they had, instead of mindlessly wandering. He didn't remember everything, neither did Laevis, but he knew it was all so precious.
Ah... It was strange to live this way.
For once.. he wasn't alone.
"Hey!!! Nicky, look!"
Laevis landed in front of him, nearly tripping over.
"Be careful?!"
"Look!! It's actually alive!"
"What is—?"
Nicrom recoiled as Laevis stuck something bright yellow in his face.
To his surprise, it was a flower in bloom, just like those he saw in paintings. Its six petals tapered off into curls, revealing thin pale stalks in its center. It didn't look like anything Nicrom had seen before... Not that it mattered.
Nicrom reached out and took it from Laevis, turning it around.
"An actual flower! That's pretty, isn't it?" Laevis said proudly, "Come on! Follow me!"
He then grabbed Nicrom's hand, pulling him with a surprising amount of force. Laevis leads him to beyond the tall grass, and Nicrom is greeted with a blinding sea of yellow.
"...Wow."
Dozens of the same flowers swayed in the wind. A burst of color among sickly browns. It was nothing like the painting.
"Beautiful, right?" Laevis says, as if to make sure.
"Yeah... I.. I wonder what they're called."
"Do you want to go to a library?"
"Sure, I guess."
Laevis pouted and crossed his arms, "Boring."
He raised an eyebrow, "That bores you?"
"Is its name so important?!"
Nicrom paused. Was it? It probably wouldn't make a difference if he did know.
"Not really."
Laevis smiles, "This makes up for it, right?"
"Makes up for... what?"
Laevis spread his arms, gesturing to the area around him. The flowers reach to his shins, and they somehow complemented the bright clothes he wore. His smile had turned into a toothy grin.
Nicrom stares for a bit, then laughs, "That's so dumb."
Relationships are fickle matters to Fae. Countless of lips have pressed against his. Different warmths filled his bed. And several hands have held him close. Yet not one was ever truly permanent, not even lasting longer than a week or so.
//suggestive
-👓
It felt as if, there was an insatiable desire, that no one could ever satisfy. Not a single person could fill that empty space Fae considers his heart.
Then again, perhaps it simply couldn't be any ordinary, everyday person.
Fae's been assigned to conduct initial reconnaissance for an upcoming mission. As is his specialty. The location was a well-known bar situated somewhere on the corner of some street he doesn't care enough to know.
It's a mildly enjoyable task, since he gets to meet a few faces here and there, mingling with drunkards and making connections.
Equipped with an audio recorder and a few bills to spend, he subjects himself to a neonlight hell.
"Jeez..." Fae mumbles as he makes his way to the bar, assaulted by the bright orange and swirls of green that emit from the stereos.
See, the only downside to performing recon in busy places like these is the overabundance of sound that causes Fae's synesthesia to go ballistic.
"Hey, 'tender, make me a Manhattan," he says as taps his finger on the varnished wood. Then Fae scans the area.
Cinnabar said it'd be a delicate mission. They'd be escorting a huge pile of cash. Tempting for anyone whose got a firearms license, especially in this side of town.
It's not as if bullets were fatal to them fusions anyway, Cinnabar just wanted a clean exchange, no dirt on his reputation.
There's a couple places an ambush could be set up. Lots of nooks and crannies in this place, he ponders, before turning his attention to the liquor set in front of him.
As he raises the glass to his lips, someone takes the seat beside him.
Hmm?
Blue visors.. and a heavy jacket lined with fur.
And that aura is unmistakably...
"Ginger beer, please," they say.
Fae blinks, setting his glass down without taking a sip.
"Hey, hey," he leans towards the stranger, "you new around here?"
"Hm?" Behind those visors, are stark, pale periwinkle eyes. His expression questioning.
Fae grins, "British accent."
"Oh, I suppose you could say that," he said, then he chuckles, turning fully towards Fae, "P-pardon, I'm..."
Then the casual expression on the fusion's face disappears, "You're..."
"Ah! Shhh," Fae lifts his finger to the other's lips, "there's no fun if we say it, no?"
"..Is that so?"
The drink he ordered, ginger beer, is placed on the counter. Fae downs his own drink, as the other fusions sips his.
"Say.. let's call each other something other than our names tonight," said Fae, watching the mix of colors he sees bathe the fusion
His eyes glimmer in the dim light, "Oh?"
Fae leans in, and places his finger right in the middle of the fusion's chest, "Mm... Pretty boy. Your face is quite adorable. It fits."
Maybe it's the bar's mood lighting, but he swears the fusion flushes deeply.
How cute...
"Aren't you a flirt," laughed the fusion, with a hint of bashfulness.
Fae tilts his head, "I take pride in it."
"What shall I call you then?"
"Oh, anything that comes to mind," smiled Fae, leaning against the counter.
And with that his recon mission is long forgotten.
Only minutes later, he finds himself pressed up against the wall, breaths hot and heavy as the other fusion pulls away.
"You're not bad at all, pretty boy," Fae chuckles breathlessly. He was shorter, overshadowed by the fusion's taller build.
He gently places his gloved hand to Fae's cheek, the satin is smooth, "I aim to impress."
"Oh, well," Fae asserts a little more pressure with his thigh, enjoying the way the other fusion's breath hitches.
"I'll let you know.. I'm quite the overachiever."
[Play Audio Recording?]
> Yes
No
Faint rustling.
"..Shall I have the privilege of knowing your name then?
"It's a secret, you know."
"I'll tell you mine."
"And here I thought you liked being called 'pretty boy'."
