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“You what?”
Silence filled the space in response to the question, the one being questioned had no intention of repeating himself. There was simply no point in doing so. Instead, he scoffed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, letting his hair fall in front of them to hide from the curious crowd that had decided to form around them.
A half-gloved hand landed on the shoulder that he left bare, and he kept his composure through every moment of the sustained inquiry from the idiot who never listened to a word he had to say.
“—ei?”
He blinked slowly as he registered the tail end of his name that coincided with the idiot’s voice being incredibly close, probably without good reason, only to see those starlit crystals inches from his own. “Since when are you allowed to get so close?” He clenched his jaw hard enough to break teeth to avoid backing away from the shock of sudden proximity.
“Since I pinned you to the ground, my prince.”
He wanted to smack the smile off the guy’s face. Honestly, he was happy making the man lose in any of the competitions they held, but he always smiled even if he lost, he even dragged him to the damn baths after. He had one in his own room! Why did he need to go to the public one? He had been trying to figure out this radiant idiot since the moment he was challenged to a duel, and had yet to find anything that made any true sense.
He had to hang around and listen to people gossip about the man to be able to garner information without being too obvious that he was trying to figure the man out, too.
What he had found out wasn't exactly the most helpful, either.
-He wasn’t from the holy city.
-He “just showed up one day”.
-He is the “Deliverer” set to bring Amphoreus into a “New Dawn”.
-He’s hung like a damn dromas, apparently. Though as to how this was a common topic of gossip or what it meant, he couldn’t comprehend.
-He’s a master orator.
-He is garbage when it comes to identifying antiques.
-He has terrible taste in colours.
-He really likes cats?
-He appears distracted lately, though no one knows why for certain. Some say they could hazard a guess, but then they typically saw Mydei and scurried away before he could figure out what they were going to say next.
“Mydei? Are you doing alright?” A hand was pressed to his forehead, lifting his bangs to fully reveal his eyes to the dumb, oversized dog that perplexed him so completely.
“I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes and hoped the glare would make the white-haired menace back off.
“You’re flushed though.” The starlit crystals seemed to gloss with worry for some reason. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Mydei’s bangs were moved higher up his forehead before the idiot’s forehead met his own, seemingly checking his temperature, but Mydei was doing everything to hide exactly how completely the motion had caught him off guard.
Even your eyelashes are silver, they gleam even here, in a corner stall of the Marmoreal Market. How curious.
Mydei opened his mouth and began to speak before he heard the other man whisper ever so faintly, ‘good, not a fever’, which prompted him to tilt his head to look up, which was absolutely a mistake in hindsight when he felt his lips brush against soft skin.
He froze on the spot, eyes open in shock.
“M-M-Mydei?” The buffoon pulled back after unfreezing from the moment himself, and held a hand in front of his now-flushed face. “Did you just–?”
Mydei said nothing. He just returned his eyes to their normal pointed look of exasperation and sighed. He closed his eyes again, letting out a huff of disapproval.
He felt a hand under his chin ever so briefly, and he let his eyebrow twitch at the touch.
The strong scent of wheat and clean sheets filled his senses as he felt the heat of breath near his ear, “if you tease me like this again, I don’t know what I’ll do, my prince.”
“Eat shit is what you’ll do.” Mydei responded flatly, eyes remaining shut.
The man’s voice dropped lower in volume, “what I want to eat is you, my prince.”
Mydei’s eyes shot open and he turned to look at the man and recoil at the same time, backing into a hand that seemed to have been anticipating his reaction.
The smile on the guy’s face was one of pure chaos.
“–the fuck is that supposed to mean, HKS?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like, my prince.”
“Why do you keep saying my title that way, Deliverer?”
“Because I’ll say it this way until you can call me by name,” he leaned in close to Mydei’s ear again to whisper, “I want to hear you scream my name in pleasure.”
Mydei was really, really confused about what the fuck was going on. “Excuse me?”
Phainon sighed and returned to the casual pose he had been in earlier, standing far enough from Mydei for Mydei to feel, at the very least, comfortable. “There is no way you are this dense.”
“Like you’re one to talk.” Mydei rolled his eyes and stood up to leave, completely done with whatever this conversation was becoming. “Have a good night, I am retiring for the evening.”
“WAIT!” Phainon grabbed Mydei by the wrist before he had the chance to walk more than a handful of steps. “I– I’m sorry.” He invaded Mydei’s space again. “Can I give you a hug before you sleep?”
“What for? You’re not a child.”
Phainon looked hurt by the comment and wrapped his arms around him anyway. It was an odd hug because Phainon rubbed his face against Mydei’s neck. It felt good.
“What was that for?”
Phainon was red in the face, “I just–” he couldn’t maintain eye contact.
Coward.
“Whatever.” Mydei turned on his heel and left the market, heading to the Kremnoan district where his makeshift home resided.
Is it me, or are people looking at me funny tonight?
He pushed the thought away as he got to his small living space. It was more grand than the past two decades of his life by far, but that was a very easy bar to clear when he didn’t have to worry about a source of potable water, keeping dry from rain and dew, finding enough food for himself and his people, or the bitter cold of the evernight.
He stripped himself of his armor, placing it neatly and gently where it belonged on the shelf he always placed them on, and he went to wash his face and rinse his hair before he slept. The mirror above the basin provided the image of a man who couldn’t be physically injured but held wounds deeper than any blade could ever cut and bones more shattered than could be acquired by the most ruthless of assaults. He looked perfectly healthy, but tired in the way only an immortal man could be. So he looked normal.
What is his deal?
He shirked off the rest of his clothing and eased himself onto his bed, not wanting to disrupt his assortment of plush chimera or other indulgences that he allowed himself to take part of after he found himself stuck living here for the foreseeable future. Even the fact that his bed was soft with give underneath him, the blanket was thick and able to keep the strongest of drafts out, and the existence of pillows that were his was beyond him still. And he had been here for well over six months.
Honestly, he lost track of time while he lived in the nightless world of Okhema. The only way to truly tell the time of day was to listen to the heralding bells who rang the passing of the hour. He had to procure thick curtains to block the light of the dawn device from bleeding into his chamber while he slept, as it was too unnatural for him to sleep without darkness. The added privacy also meant that the civilians carried on with their gossip over his supposedly odd behavior. He didn’t find the desire to have such silence to be odd though. He had always been alone with limited exceptions.
He held onto the red and orange chimera plush that he had received as a gift from someone and buried his face in it, the sensation still brought him intense joy though he never showed that excitement publicly. He wondered how the people who gifted him such things had found out about his fascination with them. The first time he encountered one he was with the Deliverer, who forced him to feel one with his face. The shopkeeper had been scandalized by the action, and the Deliverer paid for the thing outright to placate the woman. Since then, he would receive them as gifts; sometimes anonymously, other times from members of the Goldweaver’s circle. This red and orange one had been left by his door in a basket alongside apples and pomegranates with a ribbon and a tag saying his name on it. It was an odd gift, sure, but he saw no harm in the fresh produce and the stuffed chimera was almost sinful to his senses.
He felt himself being pulled by the tides of sleep, ready for the day’s stress to ebb from his bones.
He heard someone knocking faintly on the exit to the balcony. With bleary eyes, he pushed himself from the bed and walked over to the curtains.
The knocking occurred again, and Mydei sharply pulled the curtain back, revealing the Deliverer with his hand raised to knock once again, a basket of fruit was held in the crook of his opposite elbow.
“What?” Mydei grumbled. He was tired, he wanted to sleep.
Phainon’s face was suddenly more red than Mydei’s red flames as he ogled the Kremnoan who stood equally tired as he was naked in his own room. “I thought you were asleep—”
“Clearly you were wrong.”
Phainon seemed to struggle with words.
“Well?”
“I came here to give you these.” He held up the basket showing it was filled with apples and pomegranates. “They were a really good deal and I couldn’t help myself since I know how much you like them.”
Mydei raised an eyebrow. “And you would have preferred me to be asleep?”
“Yes.” Phainon deflated slightly, his voice quiet and uncertain. “It’s difficult to give you things, you know?” His eyes refused to meet Mydei’s as he said such a thing.
“Many people give me gifts. I don't know the reason, but they do. How would it be any different for you to give me one than any of the others?” Mydei really had no idea why he kept getting showered with gifts. He was no hero, and he wasn’t even a good leader. All he was good for was his existence as an immortal weapon.
Phainon’s mouth opened and shut as he seemed to try to find what words to say after that.
The two stood in silence for a good minute before Phainon composed himself. “Most of those were from me.”
“I clearly recall the gifts being from many different people.”
“They were from me, Mydei.” Phainon looked him in the eye.
“Why would I believe such a farcical statement?”
“Because I can see the chimera plush I got you on your bed. I can smell the lotion that I had Castorice give you whenever you use it. I know you wore the daisies that I had Tribbie give you in your hair. I saw you wear the chiton that I bought and had Hyacine give to you, and you looked absolutely stunning in such a beautiful, deep shade of red, so much so that I was beside myself with joy.”
Mydei scrunched his face with concern.
“And,” Phainon stepped closer, “I can always tell when you wear the jewelry I give you, like the bangles on your wrists right now. I don’t even have to look to know that they’re inscribed with the markings of Nikador and embedded with garnets and sapphires to match the pieces that the world can see when you walk so boldly in public with your chest bared proudly.”
Mydei felt an uncomfortable sensation that caused him to hide his wrists behind himself. He almost never took those off, only choosing to do so when he partook in the public baths. He slept with them on, as they provided an odd comfort he had been unable to place. They were perfectly fitted to him and were comfortable even under his gauntlets without restricting movement or pinching skin. “Why would you invest such funds and effort on me?”
Phainon came closer, now standing inside of Mydei’s room. “Because, my prince,” he lifted a hand to touch Mydei’s face.
Mydei didn’t flinch or pull away, instead he chose to glare.
“I want to have you as MY prince.”
Mydei was lost. “What?”
Phainon set the basket on a side table and closed the curtain, shrouding the two in darkness as he turned to face Mydei again. “I want you, Mydei.”
“I am not an object to be owned.”
“That’s not–” Phainon ruffled his own hair in frustration and spun in place before grabbing Mydei’s face and pressing their lips together. As he spoke his next words, his breath ghosted Mydei’s lips. “I want to make sure that no one ever dares try to mark you as theirs ever again.”
“What?”
Phainon let out a frustrated grunt. “You can’t be serious.” He laughed quietly before he nipped at Mydei’s lips again, causing ice to trickle down Mydei’s spine.
Mydei refused to budge on the matter. “What game are you playing at, Deliverer?”
Phainon withdrew as if he couldn’t believe Mydei’s honest question. “How are you so,” Phainon trailed his fingers down Mydei’s left arm, “infuriatingly blind to the world around you?”
“My eyes and ears work fine, Deliverer,” yet his skin tingled where that hand had touched him. What blindness could he even be referring to?
“Tell me, Mydei,” Phainon’s hand moved back up his arm, danced over his shoulder and down his chest to hover over his heart, “for whom does your heart beat?”
Mydei’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion. What?
“Would you consider letting it beat for me?” Phainon pressed his fingers into the flame-marked flesh and the sensation was something deeper than just simple flesh upon flesh.
What? Mydei’s mind was in shambles at the confusing sensations that he was experiencing. Why does his hand make me feel the same way the chimera doll does? Why is my heart trembling?
“Would you,” Phainon leaned in close again, the touch of his hand on his chest combined with the proximity of his face made his own face feel like it was burning. “Would you let me have you?”
“Again, I am not an object to be owned.” So frustrating. “Speak plainly, your riddles are confusing and I am getting annoyed.”
“Please be my mate. Let me court you, bite you, mark you, make sure that no one dares try to mark you with their disgusting scent ever again.” He was speaking directly against Mydei’s neck, where his ear met his jaw, causing him to actively shiver. “You smell so good that it is so difficult to restrain myself when I am around you.”
“Then you better learn more restraint.” What in Nikador’s name does he mean? “I am still not an object to be marked, or owned, and that will always remain true.”
“But am I allowed to continue courting you?” Whispers felt sweet against this throat, but he dared not budge.
Mydei didn’t know what that was. He felt so odd not knowing the word. Courting. Like trial? Am I being accused of something? “I have no idea what you mean.”
Phainon slumped down and rested his forehead on Mydei’s shoulder. “I’m saying that I’m attracted to you, you absolute idiot.”
Mydei didn't move from where he stood, and the words spoken to him made him feel incredibly warm. “Like… cats to string?” He had to make a grasp at what Phainon meant.
Phainon laughed with enough force to shake Mydei, “no, not like that.”
“Then you need to explain.”
“Like I wish to share a bed with you, share my life with you, be the person always at your side, be the only one allowed to kiss you or touch you in ways that would bring you nothing but the greatest pleasure in the world.” His breath was hot against Mydei’s clavicle, and the words were followed by soft touches of his lips to the flushed skin. “I want to be able to kiss you, to hold you, touch you, and to breathe you in.”
“It’s not like you’ve held back at any point since we’ve met.”
Phainon wrapped his hands around Mydei’s bare waist, “I’ve been doing nothing but restrain myself around you.”
“HKS. You’ve been doing nothing but act like the dog you are since the moment our duel ended in a draw.” He didn’t budge, nor did he fight against his Deliverer Phainon. “You have been testing the limits of my patience ever since, and I’ve shown nothing but tolerance for your inane antics.”
Phainon whined. “That’s so–” he whined again, living up to the description of ‘dog’. “You are so, so, so–” His breath was hot and heavy in a way that Mydei could tell was dangerous.
Yet he stood still despite sensing the man becoming an imminent threat. “You can’t hurt me, nor could you possibly hope to end my life. There is no need for such a feral to–” Mydei’s fingers dug into Phainon’s coat as teeth sunk into his neck. He bit back a scream, and figured that he shouldn’t push the man off of him with teeth sunk into his flesh, but he was absolutely going to cause the incorrigible ass to let go via a knee wrenching up fast and hard towards his groin. Phainon gasped and Mydei felt the teeth leave his neck, allowing him to throw the man to the ground, effectively pinning him there.
“Mydei, Mydei~ You’re mine now~” Phainon was smiling with blood-covered lips, giggling like a fool.
That fall must have damaged his brain. “Tell me what the hell that was for?” And why the sight of you with gold dripping from your lips makes me feel this way. A twisting inferno in my gut that I can not shake no matter how hard I try. “Did you hit your head? Why are you laughing like the madness bit you on the ass?”
The smile slowly left Phainon’s face. “How did you not feel that?” His laugh turned hollow and slowly filled with broken desperation that made Mydei feel… guilty.
“Feel what? Your teeth in my fucking neck? You mauled me like a fucking wild animal, what the actual hell.”
“You don’t,” Phainon’s voice was a hollow whisper, “did, did it heal over already? Do I have to do it again for it to take? I’ll do it as many times as I have to–”
Mydei punched the ground next to Phainon’s head, shattering the ornate tile with explosive power. “You do not get to simply bite me like I am a chew toy, Phainon.” He growled the name as he loomed over the man who went rigid at the threat, and likely at being called by his name. “I do not recall giving you permission to touch my body outside of sparring, yet you touch me all the time. I do not recall you ever once asking to partake in this ‘courting’ ritual you speak of as if it should mean something to me, yet you say that you have been going through with such a thing while I sit without clarification. I do not recall letting you make my insides turn to whirlpools made of bizarre sensations, fire, ice, and electricity alike, yet you cause a storm that I have not felt since long before I took my father’s head. I do not recall ever being made to understand what it is that makes you so positive that I belong to you, yet you claim the certainty of this like it is a fact despite me existing as a blood-bearing human, not a slave or thing to be owned. I may be a weapon to be used and bled for war, but I am not a fucking tool that can be claimed.” He was livid. “I am not a puppet. I will never be a puppet.”
Ice-cold fingers wrapped around the wrist of the hand that had remained in the ground. Phainon’s breathless words were barely audible above the sound of his own blood and rage boiling behind his ears. “I love you, Mydei.”
He froze in place at the words. What?
Phainon continued, his voice still barely audible, “I love you, Mydei. I want to spend Era Nova with you. I want to spend my life with you in whatever world exists after Dawn breaks upon Amphoreus. I really, really, really need you by my side, Mydei.”
Mydei’s eyes hurt, and it felt like they were on fire. Phainon was suddenly blurred like he had been shoved underneath water. His own voice sounded foreign as the air seemed to stall in his throat and catch on a single word. “Love?”
“I love you Mydei. With every fiber of my being. I can’t stand it when other people get close to you and try to get their scent all over you, tainting your perfection that I wish to keep next to me for as long as you’ll let me have you.”
Mydei wrenched his hand from Phainon’s hold, or he tried to at least. He found he simply didn’t have the strength to. The man below him blurred further, and his lungs refused to fill completely, and he felt himself double over while trying to inhale.
“My prince is crying?" Mydei felt Phainon’s cool hand touch his cheek and thumb brush under his eye.
Mydei shook his head. “I have never cried, so I can’t possibly be–”
“You’re crying.” Phainon spoke softly. “Can you really not feel the bond? I know it stayed, I can tell, I can feel it– I can feel your heart beating right next to mine.” His words were so gentle it was almost upsetting. “You are the world to me, Mydei,” the hand that had been on his wrist joined the one on his face, and pulled Mydei downwards, a movement he didn’t find himself wanting to fight. “I’m the ignorant one, not you. I didn’t take the time to even stop to think that you may not know what certain things are.” He moved his arms to wrap around Mydei’s back, holding him awkwardly against his chest. “You weren’t part of the world until you were nearly grown, and I forgot that. I must have assumed you would have learned what your emotions and thoughts were truly about instead of being left to fend for yourself the way you have been doing for your whole life.” He pulled Mydei in even tighter. “Courting means that I wish to be the person who you come home to, who you are the most excited to see when you wake and who you are happy to fall asleep next to. It means that I would like to spend that simple part of my life with you, showering you with affection and not being afraid to have your people try to kill me over it.”
Mydei opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t get the chance, as Phainon just continued.
“I only began to court you because I was told how your culture worked, and that the only way to earn your proper respect was to match you, blow for blow in a duel, and we did just that. I had no idea you didn’t know it was essentially me declaring my romantic intentions right there on the spot. You captivated me the moment I saw you. Your kindness and compassion sent my mind and heart spinning, Mydei. I can’t help that I feel the need to be close to you and keep other people away from you because until now I had no reason to think you didn’t understand my feelings.”
Mydei's heart sped up.
“I want to be able to tell youI love you in public. I want to be able to kiss you and hold you and say that you are the person who chose me, too. That’s what I mean by ‘mine’.” Phainon adjusted his posture and planted his feet on the floor, his knees raising and forcing Mydei to come face-to-face with him. “I want to be able to tell you how good it feels to have your weight on top of my hips like this, how good it feels to taste your skin, how beautiful your eyes are at any given moment.”
Mydei was nose-to-nose with Phainon now, He tried searching those glittering stars for any hint of falsehood and could find none. “Why did you bite me like a feral beast if you wished to declare such feelings?”
“A– a mating bond is–”
“Mating bond?”
Phainon squeaked. “Yes?”
“Why pray-tell would I require such a thing? We can not copulate, we are both male, are we not?”
Phainon muttered something under his breath that Mydei couldn’t make out. “Care to test that theory?”
Mydei’s lip curled up in a grimace. “What? Why? Is that simply not how biology functions?”
“I am pretty sure I can get you to carry my kids if I try hard enough.”
“What are you not telling me?” Mydei’s eyes narrowed in frustration.
“That I bet I can fuck you full enough of my seed to breed you in a single rut, Prince Mydeimos.”
“A what? Wait, breed? Hold on–”
“Bite my neck like I bit yours, please, just— try.”
“Why?”
“Just–” Phainon abruptly sat up, jostling Mydei enough to get him to cling to that white coat. “Bite my neck, if nothing happens, then I’ll set all of this behind me, and let you go forever unless you ask me to stay.” He pressed Mydei’s face against his neck. “Bite me hard enough to make it bleed, I know your teeth are sharp enough, I’ve seen you rip a Titankin’s arm off with just your teeth alone.”
Mydei rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He relented to the absurd request, opened his mouth and sank his teeth into Phainon’s soft and warm skin.
Mydei immediately whined at the bizarre sensation that hit him.
It was bad enough that Phainon seemed to be drooling from being bitten and something that wasn’t his belt was pressing against his own groin, hot and thick in a way that made his stomach burn with an unfamiliar hunger. He let go of Phainon’s neck and licked at the gold that seeped from the wound, something that should have been disgusting but wasn’t and he didn’t know why. Phainon shivered, and seemed to enjoy every second of it.
When the man spoke, it was breathy, “so you did feel something.”
Now that he was closer, he could smell something there on Phainon, and it wasn’t the scent of freshly cleaned linens. “How–” His own voice barely escaped him.
Phainon smells like the span of time between summer and autumn.
He smells like how crushed leaves feel underfoot.
He smells like the summer as the big dippers fly to the night they can’t ever touch here under Kephale’s light.
He smells…
Like a place to come home to.
“Will you let me be yours, Mydei?” Phainon asked, running his hands through soft blonde hair.
—
Earlier that day:
—
“Hey, I think Mydei just got scented by that one guard again, Golden Boy,” Ciphers was picking at her nails before she pointed in the direction of the Omega prince who should know better than to let people do such a thing. “Have you actually told him that it bothers you?”
Phainon’s eyes snapped to where she was pointing. Sure enough, some piece of shit Alpha brat had his hands all over Mydei. The same guy committed this same grave crime at least once a week, and Phainon was getting fed up with it. He stood, from where he had been sitting and walked over to the beautiful Omega he had been drenching in his scent since their duel.
How cruel must you be to play with my affections like this?
He glared at the guard, who sheepishly went on his way. “Why do you keep letting that man touch you?”
“He is committing no crime, and he merely wished to ask how I have been, Deliverer.” Mydei’s eyebrow raised in confusion.
Can’t you smell that he wants to use you?
“He had invited me to assist the city guard with their training tomorrow, so I accepted. It was really nothing much.”
“You what?” That guard is trying to get you alone, you idiot!
Mydei remained silent, opting to sit on a nearby bench and close his eyes as if he was exhausted. He was running himself ragged lately, and Phainon wouldn’t be shocked if his brain wasn’t entirely functional from fever.
Phainon tried to press him further, but received no response, instead Mydei swayed slightly, his posture wavering in a manner that would have gone unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t Phainon. He gripped Mydei’s shoulder. “Mydei?”
“Since when are you allowed to get so close?” His eyes were glazed when they opened. Mydei was definitely not feeling well., yet his scent hadn’t changed outside of the other man’s touch.
“Since I first pinned you to the ground, my prince,” he aimed for sarcasm, but it seemed to land wrong. Mydei only vanished further into his dazed state. “Hey, hey, Mydei? Are you okay?” He pressed his palm to Mydei’s forehead. “You’re flushed, I hope you don’t have a fever.”
Mydei’s eyes connected briefly with his own before they closed again, the man muttering nonsense as he swayed again.
Phainon pressed his forehead to Mydei’s. He was running hot, but not unusually so. This wasn’t a fever, but something else. He made the mistake of closing his eyes for a moment because Mydei moved, pressing their lips together briefly. “M-M-M-Mydei? Did you just–” His heart beat like a war drum. Did he just kiss me? I think he just kissed me. And with such a wistful look on his face, too?????
—
Then:
—
Phainon decided to bring Mydei some more fruit, both in Aedes Elysiae and in Kremnos, the fruits he chose to give as a gift each time represented the request for marriage, especially when presented this way.
Mydei’s lights were out completely, and his door actually had a guard stationed outside, which was rare, so he decided that the only sane route would be to enter through the balcony’s doorway. He had discovered Mydei kept curtains up at all times, likely to preserve sleep cycles from before he moved to Okhema. He could understand that quite well, but he was bothered that it his the beautiful man who lay just beyond.
He knocked on the arch lightly, “Mydei?” He didn’t want to speak above a whisper in the event that he was heard. He knocked again to make sure that Mydei was asleep. Before he could move to set the basket and the note inside it down as an offering, the curtain was pulled back, revealing a mostly nude Mydei. This stole all semblance of reason from Phainon’s brain. Mydei was wearing the bangles he had ordered custom made by Chartronus just for Mydei using some of the Kremnoan actual relics he had found while they continued their search for the floating fortress. Every piece he had given to Chartronus that was too damaged to salvage for its original use was turned into something for Mydei. The man deserved to be dressed in the finest clothing and jewelry the world could offer.
When Mydei didn’t seem to notice that the gifts were all from him, even though he had scented each one, he began to grow concerned.
Is he already bonded to someone? Is that why he can’t tell? Hyacine told me he was a Beta, but Beta donn't smell like he does. That’s just not how that works.
Mydei MUST be an Omega.
Right?
Mydei was not, in fact, an Omega.