The desolated streets, huge boulders and debris all over what used to be Chartonus' workshop —The 'Eternal Holy City', Okhema, had nothing but remnants of war and destruction. The Okhemans had fled long ago, either evacuated, or had unfortunately succumbed to the Black Tide. Through, amidst the aftermath of the war, one familiar being sat on top of Marmoreal Market.

Clutching a certain signet ring from a certain someone in his right hand, the black cloak he always wore was now torn and tattered, rustling and flapping in the cold, strong breeze. Small patches of white hair peeked out from underneath the hood, as the man's grip on the ring tightened, slowly starting to hurt. Yet, a part of him didn't care about it right now.

The Flame-Chase Journey the Chrysos Heirs yearned for — that went horribly wrong. Phainon failed to bear the weight of the whole of Amphoreus: He failed the Okhemans. He failed to get revenge for the Aedes Elysians.

Failed. Failed. Failed. F̴̢̰͗̐̋à̷͎i̴͕͛͜ḻ̵͑͝e̴͚͉͍̅d̷͎͇̾̒͒.

Worst of all. He failed his Chrysos Heirs. Watch every single one of his friend die. Including his one and only, Mydeimos.

Phainon's breath hitched, as those memories resurfaced. The guilt that he buried deep inside him was starting to haunt him every now and then, each time getting harder and harder to ignore. He shut his eyes tight, as the signet ring pressed and burned into his skin.

As the evening scenery began to paint the skies, the winds grew way stronger and stronger. Phainon's entire body was trembling. It was so, so cold, yet he didn't want to leave. No. Phainon couldn't leave. Mydei was going to be here soon for their date. He promised..