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The climb to visit that damned titan was a climb that Anaxagoras despised more and more with every step. He was so tired, so exhausted. Not to mention seeing every single worshipper praising Kephale nearly brought a scoff from his lips. Everyone judged him, so what was the point of hiding his perspective? He knew of what he had to do to preserve both the flamechase journey and to allow his influence on the next cycle to begin. He would become the Reason Titan and change Amphoreus' next cycle. He would be the catalyst and prove his theory. Yes, that was the plan. He just had to ensure that everything went according to plan. The great performer would have one final act fitting of his title.
Castorice had agreed to aid him, although his approach would be considered underhanded by both Aglaea and the Council of Elders. Phainon would eventually understand, maybe that traveler from beyond the sky would understand what he’d done. With each step he took, thoughts continued to pester him like angry wasps - Cerces’ interjections were far from a balm for his exhausted mind. After all, a titan occupying one’s brain and body was tiring enough as is.
He shouldn’t have lived.
He should’ve been left to die in the Grove like everyone else when the Black Tide hit.
This wasn’t fair; being forced to carry the coreflame of Reason. Sigh.
He was tired but he had to see his plan to fruition.
“Cerces,” he spoke up, his voice flat in an attempt to conceal the turbulent feelings in his mind.
“You don’t need to tell me,” she answered, appearing next to him. No one around them could see her, so he must seem foolish to be speaking to thin air. “You’re wavering, aren’t you?”
No answer from the great performer himself.
“Ah,” she chuckled to herself. “Your silence is all I need to know, no rummaging through your mind necessary.”
The rest of the walk was silent aside from a couple of short conversations between the two of them. Anaxagoras had survived the hellish climb to visit Kephale only to notice he had a mere few system hours left. Only a short while left.
The debate had gone as expected, a tie between putting an end to the flamechase or letting it resume. Anaxagoras was the only one who hadn’t cast a vote and Caenis was expecting him to vote in favor of ending it. After all, era nova was more important that some futile attempt to stop the black tide wasn’t it?
Ha, how ridiculous that notion was.
The vote was cast. He had voted in favor of allowing the flamechase journey to continue. The look on Caenis’ face was priceless. Her motives had been revealed and all was going as expected. Perfect.
Anaxagoras had a couple system hours left before he was due to return to the others. That time would surely be best used on some alone time. Some time to himself to think was one last gift he could give himself before his death, at least. He had sacrificed several parts of his body already, his heart, his eye, and who knows what else. He was nothing but a walking corpse, animated by the soul of Cerces. His mind was the only thing still “alive.” The city of Okhema seemed safe at the moment - although he knew that the black tide would eventually devour everything should the others fail. His mind seemed to ruminate on one particular thought.
What if I could stay alive for a little while longer? Surely alchemy could assist with that.
An ahem interrupted his cycle of thought. It was Cerces. She had that smirk on her face.
“You really think that alchemy could save you one final time?”
He scoffed in response. “Of course not, I-”
“Don’t think that the titan living in your brain is incapable of knowing when a mortal is not telling the truth.” She crossed her arms and looked at him with a questioning gaze.
“Of course I’m telling the truth.” He crossed his arms in response and shot that same questioning glance back at Cerces. “Alchemy is powerful and I’m sure that I could prolong my life long enough to-”
“You don’t think I know that ?” a sharper tone cut him off. He knew that she was serious no matter how much he despised being spoken to in this way. “If you really think that alchemy is your savior and that you will be able to prolong your existence on this plane any longer than necessary… that will to live of yours died the moment I revived you. Self-preservation was never in your vocabulary.”
For once, Anaxagoras was unable to respond with one of his usual quips. He knew she was right. It took a few moments, but his words finally caught up with his thoughts.
“I never said I wanted to die.”
“You’ve implied it,” Cerces reasoned. “You’re more of a fool than I took you for. Deny all you like.”
He was caught and he hated it. The silence of the next system hour was deafening and far, far too long.
Cerces spoke up as he made his way through the city. Watching the citizens of Amphoreus brought both a sense of bitterness and a sense of satisfaction to him that he knew more than they did. He knew better.
“You have a few moments before you return to the Vortex. Is there anything you wish to tell me in private before we depart?”
He stared at her for another moment before responding. He didn’t like the feeling of vulnerability this was stirring within him.
“You know that once I depart from Amphoreus and your coreflame is torn from my chest, that you will no longer exist. You will be ripped from my soul, my mind, and this husk of a corpse like the parasite you’ve always been.”
She let him continue, listening to the inner thoughts that he dared not vocalize despite the venom in his words.
“I did not wish to continue living, let alone because of a titan.”
A smile forms on Cerces’ face although Anaxagoras had cursed her choice to revive him.
“Ah, anger. I am glad to see that your emotions have not completely festered. The bitterness is better than nothing at all. I am glad you came to terms with your own demise.”
More quiet was the only response Cerces was given as Anaxagoras pondered what would await him on the other side. Was it suffering, just in a different form? Or would the next cycle yield a better outcome?
All mortals, when confronted with death, would have a moment of “what if”. Anaxagoras was not immune from this or the stages of grief. Perhaps the process was delayed until his research was complete. What in his mind was there to grieve? Cerces noticed that he had gotten stuck in another thought loop. One final interruption was all it took to shake him out of it.
“Ahem,” she spoke up. A flicker of emotion crossed his features, but was quickly masked by the stoic exterior he was known for.
“I know, it’s time. The others are waiting.”
The walk to the Vortex of Genesis would feel like the longest walk he could take. Goodbyes would be bittersweet but necessary. Anaxagoras, the Great Performer, had fulfilled his duty.
See you in the next cycle.