Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time Chapter 244 Arx Nihil — Memoria’s Call

Fifth morning: a thin, silver mist envelops the large stones at the foot of the hill, creating an illusion of another world that captivates the senses. The sky gently transitions from bright blue to soothing shades of purple, still not fully illuminated, but the golden light tenderly spreads, painting the horizon as if inviting thousands of stars to awaken from their slumber. Before them stands the Great Gate, majestic and mysterious, softly glowing under the warm morning light.

The brass gate, fifty milliters thick, towers high, resembling a giant jaw locked in silence for thousands of years. ticulously carved, the depiction of the Tree of Life showcases its branches spiraling in every direction, creating an illusion of graceful arms reaching for the sky. In every crack, thousands of ancient glyphs sparkle, as if whispering secrets to anyone brave enough to approach.

Fitran and Rinoa stand in deep silence, surrounded by an almost tangible magical aura, as if ti slows around them. They are not in a hurry—not due to doubt—but because they sense the profound awareness of what lies beyond this gate: not rely a passage to Gamma, but a living reminder of all that the world has forgotten—an oblivion embedded in the faded fragnts of history.

"This gate will not open for just any magic," Rinoa spoke softly, her voice calm and gentle as she touched one of the softly glowing glyphs, the light dancing around her fingers like a warm embrace. "It asks for sothing not from your hands, but from your very being."

Fitran gazed deeply into the carvings that seed to move, radiating ancient wisdom. In a steady tone, he replied, "It demands the truth."

Rinoa nodded, her eyes sparkling in the silence, filled with aning—as if summarizing the thousands of secrets held in the depths of their hearts.

At that mont, Fitran stepped forward, his stride filled with confidence and courage, as if challenging the darkness that lood over them.

His hand was raised, holding neither a gleaming sword nor weaving elental spells in the air. Even without tools, only driven by a burning desire, he emanated a sacred aura that enveloped the surroundings.

Yet, from the depths of his soul—deeper than mory or wounds—he called upon the Voidwright, a summons that pulsed slowly, as if rging with the heartbeat of the earth, awakening the ancient power that lay dormant.

Passive Magic: moria Vector (mory Vector)

(Voidwright Passive Art)

The Voidwright is not rely an art of destruction and void. At the pinnacle of its abilities, it transforms into a mirror of existence, reflecting every layer of reality with a clarity that can touch the soul. As a Voidwright who has entered into a contract with Beelzebub, Fitran is enveloped in mystical shadows, entering the realm of Overseer. Within those depths, he possesses passive magic that resonates in harmony with the universe's heartbeat—moria Vector, even if unconsciously activated.

Effect:

moria Vector cos into play when the void power within Fitran interacts with symbols, architecture, or elents of the ancient world filled with spiritual mories. Each contact causes Fitran's consciousness to recall mories that have been severed from his soul, like delicate threads magically woven back into the unseen tapestry of fate. In that mont, the world seems to vibrate before his eyes, every wall, pillar, and carving appearing to be reborn with a new life that radiates beauty previously hidden.

There was no spell or preparation; the event unfolded like the force of gravity—an inevitable law of nature inherent in the existence of a Voidwright, drawing every nearby soul into a dance beneath the dark and mysterious starry sky. The hidden voices resonated within, each vibration carrying a sweet lody of nostalgia that called forth mories long forgotten.

And the Great Gate—carved with thousands of Proto-Speech glyphs, shimring invisibly like the gentle moonlight enveloping the night—beca the perfect trigger to awaken the moria Vector. Each glyph possessed an aura, radiating in dynamic ethereal colors, as if holding eternal secrets from a ti long forgotten.

"Arx Nihil: Aperire moria."

(The Gate of Emptiness: Open the mory)

In an instant, the glyphs etched upon the surface of the Great Gate began to light up one by one, emitting a magnificent display of light, like a row of stars greeting the dawn. Black-gold light flowed gently from Fitran's palm, enveloping the ancient carvings and seeping into the spiritual chanisms of the gate, creating a stunning harmony between physical reality and ethereal dinsions. Each touch seed to awaken ancient resonance, celebrating the infinite passage of ti.

The thunderous sound of ancient tal echoed—not rely the noise of a gate opening but the awakening of an ancient consciousness from its long slumber, carrying whispers from other dinsions. Its vibrations shook the entire realm surrounding it with a majestic flow of energy, as if the universe resonated in profound harmony.

However, as the Voidwright's magic penetrated the gate's core, it did not rely dismantle the physical seal. Dark energy intertwined with dim light, flowing like clear water dripping into a mysterious dark well. Gently, it unraveled everything stored within Fitran, like layers of earth being lifted by a fierce wind, revealing mories and emotions hidden in darkness's embrace.

Fitran's body jolted, his breath caught as if trapped in a vortex of ti. His head felt bombarded by a thousand voices from undefined directions, spinning in the darkness that pursued him, pushing him back to the defining monts of his life. mories surged all at once, wild and unordered:

The first ti he learned magic from the formless entity nad Harut, its shadow glided elegantly above an altar surrounded by shimring starlight, defying the laws of nature with each charismatic movent.

When he buried his friends to contain Beelzebub's wrath, the ground around him appeared soaked with tears and blood, mingling in a sacrant of grief beneath the sorrowful moonlight, a silent witness to the sadness that enveloped the night.

When he kissed Rinoa beneath the majestic Ygrallis tree, its branches stretched wide, shielding them from the noisy outside world. Its sweet, fresh aroma enveloped them, as if ti slowed and faded amidst the beauty of a mont filled with silk and wonder.

However, when he betrayed Iris, the bright morning sunlight seed to drown in darkness, tainted by ominous clouds hanging above, symbolizing the collapse of trust that had been built, now shattered in an instant like shards of glass frozen in mory.

When he decided to burn the city to stop the rise of Sephiroth, flas soared high, painting the sky in hues of orange and black, creating a night engulfed in a sea of chaos and haunting destruction.

As he gazed at Rinoa's face, softly saying, "If you fall, I will stay," his smile radiated warmth, piercing through the coming darkness, wrapping her in an embrace akin to morning dew, defying sorrow with each drop of hope.

All those mories surged back, bringing with them everything that ford him as Fitran—both in the joy-bringing light and in the painful darkness—enveloping his soul all at once. Each layer of mory enveloped him like a gentle mystic fog, creating a magical atmosphere in the consciousness that slowly awakened again.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed in front of the towering Great Gate—a magnificent structure adorned with mystical carvings that shimred faintly in the peculiar light. His eyes were vacant, as if trapped in the flow of ti, his thoughts drifting far away. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from the sudden realization of who he truly was. Love, betrayal, and the latent strength within him rose, rging in a distillation of extraordinary experience, guiding him toward a greater purpose.

"Fitran!" Rinoa approached him with all her emotions, supporting him with gentle hands, her eyes sparkling like stars dancing in the night sky, gazing at his face now illuminated, entwined with soft light and deep shadows that reflected struggle and hope.

Fitran looked deep into her eyes, as if attempting to penetrate the ocean of her soul. And for the first ti after navigating the dark, winding Labyrinth... he called her na, his voice resonant and filled with awareness, like an echo bouncing between the walls of ti.

"Rinoa..." his voice cracked, feeling empty yet resonating deeply. "You're still here... even after I've lost everything that was precious."

Rinoa held him tightly, as if absorbing the warmth that remained within their souls, promising in their close embrace, "I promise, I will never leave."

Fitran closed his eyes, feeling the world swirl around him, mories rushing in like a relentless tide. "I rember everything. Even those things I wished I would never have to see again, every mory feels like a gaping wound, dancing at the edge of recollection."

Rinoa gently touched his face, her fingers curling at the corners of his eyes, as if hoping to erase the pain from Fitran's mory. "And I will continue to love you—even after you rember all the painful things," she said, her voice soft yet resolute.

A pale white light, neither magic nor fire, but the pure essence of an ancient world, flows from behind the gate like a glowing river piercing the darkness of night, creating a shimring and captivating path. The road to sothing older than history widens, akin to the dawn's light breaking the night, vast and majestic like an infinite map that will never be fully understood.

However, Fitran did not step forward imdiately, entranced by the breathtaking panorama laid out before him.

He gazed at Rinoa, a firebird gliding gracefully between them, before shifting his attention to the nearly hypnotic gate, sparkling like a gem in the light.

"I know what awaits us beyond could be far darker than anything we've faced so far. But now... I will not run again," he said with determination blazing in his chest.

Rinoa nodded, gripping his hand tightly, her light shining softly like a star, guiding their steps. "Because now, you are not alone," she said, her certainty radiating hope.

With synchronized steps, they walked towards the Great Gate—a magnificent archway glowing with translucent orange light. The gate seed alive, showcasing intricate carvings that sparkled like stars, radiating ancient symbols that swayed gently, alive with energy. Each stroke narrated its own legend, inviting reflection before proceeding further. Behind the gate, the ground glittered like crystal, reflecting light in unimaginable hues, creating a scene akin to crossing into another world. The air around them vibrated, holding unspoken languages, as if inviting them to delve into the depths of unexplored mysteries. Before them, the shadow of the future awaited, hazy yet shimring—a symbol of the interplay between hope and fear woven into the fabric of fate.