(3.4 spoilers)

This was the 5,667,410 cycle of the Flame-Chase journey. Phainon was getting tired. You are difficult. You made things more difficult than it needed to be, and now he was going to deal with it properly. No more lovely dovey. No more sweetheart, or love, or dear, darling, baby— none of it.

He gazed at the ground with his dull cyan eyes, getting lost in the memories of the previous cycles before this. He huffed and grabbed your arm, grabbing you over before putting his sword against your neck, his face twisted in anger.

“Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be.” He said, reaching into your chest to grab the coreflame from your body. “And don’t bother to fight me. You’ll loose, like you do every time. I don’t like cutting off your head, but I will if I have to.”