Honkai Star Rail: Wait! Why Are There Two Saviors on Amphoreus?!

"You want to hear it? Very well. Phainon still has some time before he comes to reclaim your ’Death’ Coreflame."

It seemed as if he had made a small decision. "I remember, it was the 496th recurrence. Quite a coincidence, isn’t it? Like the number of this current recurrence. 496, a perfect number."

"The difference was... in that recurrence, I was... latched onto by a rather persistent little kitten."

He gently shook his head, a glimmer of light, perhaps unnoticed even by himself, flickering deep within his eyes as he began to immerse himself in that distinctly different memory.

...

(Memory Begins)

The Black Tide at the border of Dolos had just been repelled. The air still hung thick with the acrid smells of smoke and otherworldly corrosion.

Phaethon was preparing to leave this ravaged land when a small figure suddenly pounced, clinging desperately to his leg.

"Great person! Great hero! You saved Dolos, surely you wouldn’t mind saving one more little kitten? If you don’t take care of me, I’ll starve! I will definitely starve!"

It was a Dolosian who called herself Cifera. At this moment, she was rolling around clutching his leg without a shred of dignity, her tail puffed up into a fuzzy ball.

Phaethon looked down at this "accident" that had never appeared in past recurrences, his gaze still as calm and deep as an ancient well. He simply stated in a matter-of-fact tone: "Cipher #496... stop this nonsense."

"Cipher #496? What an awful name! I’m Cifera!" she protested first, but then her eyes narrowed shrewdly as she immediately seized on his words, "But! Since you’ve given me a name, you have to take responsibility for raising me! I eat very little, really, I promise!" She batted her big eyes, trying to put on her most innocent and pitiful look.

"You..." A rare sense of helplessness washed over Phaethon. He even began to regret not having Phainon handle the Dolos aftermath.

But upon second thought, if he let his brother—who was becoming more like a walking volcano with increasingly unstable emotions—deal with it, the outcome for this kitten, given her temperament, would likely be even harder to predict.

After a moment of silence, looking into those stubborn eyes filled with "I won’t let go unless you agree," he finally sighed. "You... fine. Come with me for now."

...

"Phaethon! Phaethon! Look, look!" The little figure rushed into the temporary courtyard like a gust of wind. Little Cipher #496 held up a pair of exquisite little boots, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I met a really pretty, really gentle big sister today! She gave them to me! Aren’t they nice?"

After showing off, she seemed to remember something and pouted with dissatisfaction. "She even asked if I wanted to go with her. Hmph, as if! I already have a long-term meal ticket... I mean, I have someone who adopted me! I’m not going!"

"She’s a good person. Going with her might be..." Phaethon fell silent.

"Mmm? Phaethon, you don’t want me anymore?" Cipher #496 looked at Phaethon with tearful, wide eyes.

"Your acting is getting better and better," Phaethon sighed.

He never again mentioned sending her away.

...

"Phaethon." Aglaea #496 greeted softly at the courtyard gate. Her gaze, however, involuntarily drifted to the slightly torn edge of Phaethon’s clothing from battle.

Her fingertips twitched slightly, an impulse rising in her heart to take out needle and thread and mend it.

"Here to see Cipher #496 again?" Phaethon’s voice, having just returned from the battlefield, carried a trace of imperceptible weariness.

"Mm-hmm." Aglaea #496 nodded gently, her gaze still subtly skimming over the torn fabric.

...

On the courtyard threshold, the sunlight cast long shadows. Cipher #496 crouched there, carefully roasting several small fish. The golden afterglow outlined her with a warm silhouette.

"Phaethon," she tilted her head, watching Phaethon who was sitting not far away, wiping his blade. "How long has it been since you ate a proper meal?"

Without looking up, Phaethon’s movements were practiced and mechanical. "Over half a year. Eating has long lost its meaning for me."

"How can a person not eat!" She jumped up in an instant, shoving the skewer of fish she had been eyeing for so long—the most golden, most aromatic one she hadn’t even dared to take a bite of herself—into Phaethon’s hand. "Here!"

Phaethon looked at the food suddenly in his hand, frowning slightly. "I don’t like fish. Too fishy, has bones, troublesome, texture is also..."

"—Also what!" Cipher #496 cut him off, indignant, hands on her hips like an annoyed kitten. "You haven’t even tasted it once, how do you know you don’t like it? You won’t even try?"

Phaethon was taken aback. Those words, carrying a hint of reproach and a trace of grievance, were like a tiny needle, lightly piercing the thick barrier of "habit" and "numbness" surrounding him.

The girl didn’t press the issue of the fish. She suddenly grew quiet, her gaze lingering for a long time on the few tears in Phaethon’s clothing, her expression complex.

After a long while, she finally looked up. Her clear, azure-blue eyes seemed capable of reflecting the deepest corners of a person’s heart.

"Phaethon," her voice was soft, yet carried a strange penetrating power, "You say you want to be a Deliverer. These four hundred-some recurrences, you’ve been fighting desperately for that goal, right?"

Phaethon nodded silently. This was his fate, his shackles, and the only meaning of his existence he could confirm.

She leaned in a little closer, staring intently into Phaethon’s bottomless eyes. "But Phaethon, tell me honestly. The Deliverer you want to be—is it that shiny, all-powerful symbol in other people’s eyes, or the Deliverer you yourself feel ’this is what I should do’?"

Her voice remained soft, yet it fell upon Phaethon’s heart like small hammer blows:

"In the eyes of others—in my eyes, in the seamstress’s eyes, even in the eyes of that haughtiest imperator—you are already a very, very qualified, even a perfect Deliverer. You saved Dolos, you saved me, you saved so many lives that would have perished..."

"So why won’t you let yourself off the hook?"

The fingers Phaethon used to wipe his blade trembled almost imperceptibly. The weight and exhaustion accumulated over four hundred recurrences seemed to be pried open by this simplest, most direct question, revealing a tiny crack.

"You care too much about the past—those you couldn’t save, those memories you see as failures. And you’re too anxious about the future—what to do in the next recurrence, whether the world will repeat its mistakes." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

She pointed a finger at him, then at the old tree in the courtyard rustling with falling leaves in the evening breeze.