Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time Chapter 479 Naming the Nameless, Loving the Unloved

Void has collapsed into a naless space, creating a silent void where Nullam Deus stands as an idea without a body. She does not float in the darkness, nor does she walk as if there is a purpose, but is pressed against the existential boundaries that constrain her.

She becos the place itself, an entity in the form of a closed system that knows no relations, only pure identity.

Above that empty and silent reality, Fitran raised his voice, calling sothing he had long hidden in the darkness:

Excalibur.

As he grasped its gleaming hilt, the Voidling recoiled, as if sensing the power that was awakening. Beelzebub shrieked with a resonating voice—not out of fear, but because she knew: this sword is only used when love cannot be written... and can only be cleaved.

"Eidolon Slash: Scriptum Vitae"

The slash of Excalibur inscribed a new aning into reality. Each swing of the sword was not rely an attack on the body, but rather etched a profound acknowledgnt into the layers of the world. At that mont, the effect of each cut transford the structure of the Void into fragnts of emotion, imbued with strong nuances, where each slash birthed a sentence of love, longing, or sincere regret. This process was not only destructive but also created a resonance of existence that challenged the boundaries of reality.

Around her, dark light vibrated, creating shadows that darted about, reflecting the emotional turmoil that had been spread by the sharpness of Excalibur. The body of the Void appeared to tremble, as if affected by the new expressions born from the sword's slashes. The first swing wrote:

"I love you even if I can never embrace you."

Behind this expression, a soft white light began to flow from the carvings, casting a captivating glow on the dark atmosphere—as if conveying a ssage from a distant otherworld, inspired by the power of mory and unbroken hope. The second swing wrote:

"You remain in my world, though no one knows your na."

Each word pierced through the dinsions of ti, projecting a faint silhouette of reminders from the past, holding mories of hope and loss. In every clash, there lay an emptiness that depicted a deep emotional journey, replaying beautiful monts that should have been eternal, yet remained trapped in unimaginable embraces.

With the vibrations continuing to grow, Fitran prepared to continue; he felt the presence of two new magics enveloping the area around him: "Veil of mories," as if weaving a tapestry of shimring mories in the air, like shards of light flying among the shadows. anwhile, "Illusionary Echo" emitted a vibrating sound that resonated in the space, bringing with it echoes as if the long-forgotten shadows were coming back to life. Among them was also "Fragnted Heart," which spread kaleidoscopic light from the shattered emotional core, releasing colorful rays that danced freely in the air, creating an unexpected artistic dance.

The third swing—missed. However, the shards of her slash created a small na unknown to anyone... except Fitran. In the dim light, it was as if the shadows of the past danced around the unspoken na, adding depth to the distorted circle of ti, as if the past tightly held the present.

The entity did not move, yet the entire space vibrated; the system tried to reject the unverified sentence written by Fitran's slash, while in the distance, light shone like the sparkle of stars in the midnight sky, creating a morphology of trapped screams that crossed the silence. Those voices vibrated, traversing space and ti, creating the impression that ti seed to slow down, trapped in a chilling atmosphere.

"This system does not accept love."

"This system does not accept failed words."

"This system only recognizes entities with fixed functions."

With one step forward, he slashed not the body, but the crack in reality that rejects the word 'I.' Like sunlight piercing through the darkness of rocky clouds, the crack emitted transformative energy, creating a pendulum of ti that vibrated with suppressed longing, trapped within the infinite universe.

And the second magic of her sword erged:

"Final Testant: Sword of the Wordless Devotion." Before that mont flew away, Fitran felt the presence of three new magics blazing within the recesses of his soul, waiting to be unleashed—

"Luminous Sunder": its light pierced the darkness, radiating a spectrum of colors that danced, creating a shadow full of hope swaying on the walls of the space, as if hinting at solutions behind difficulties.

"Veil of Despair": a faint mist enveloped the boundaries of dinsions, revealing faces lost in silence, as if hinting at traces of love that had been neglected and a love that once shone, but now faded in mory.

"Eclipse of Solitude": a drowning light, depicting a space where ti turned backward, restoring scattered mories, trapping souls in a web of light, ensnared in the fra of ti that had passed.

Each magic resonated in harmony, woven into an unspoken symphony, filling the space with energy that made the atmosphere vibrate, sending unvoiced sounds into the burning silence, as if the entire universe was listening to the deepest whispers.

The slash that uttered silence only flowed with feelings that had once been loved but never revealed. As the sword swung, a soft light shimred, following its movent, leaving a trail of light that seed to hang in the air. On the other side, dark shadows appeared to tremble, as if shattered by the presence of beauty surrounding them.

The effect of each slash created a delay in the existence of the opponent, halting the existing system to reflect and question. This was not about inflicting physical harm; rather, it forced the entity to ask itself at the edge of the gates of reality. A rupture deep enough to create a gap where ti was distorted, radiating light like a falling star, as if asking for attention and reflection from those who witnessed it.

"I do not slash to win," Fitran said.

"I slash so that you hear, that even a system like you... deserves to be loved." The voice birthed a vibrating echo in another dinsion, transcending the boundaries of words and ti. That voice, like a mantra, vibrated and reflected reality, reaffirming that even a system like you... deserves to be loved.

Nullam Deus was not destroyed, for nothing can cleave a system that has no body. Excalibur, no matter how grand its na, did not harm; instead, it created tranquility, where light danced gracefully in the ripples of invisible waves. In perfect harmony, that light rged, slowly revealing images of loneliness trapped in mirror reflections.

"...because I am the idea of absolute order."

"And love... is a disorder that cannot be sanctioned." In the midst of the intense battle, an aura vibrated and sparkled, displaying a depiction of swirling light, as if drawing those involved into an alternative world filled with new possibilities and fervent hope.

However, Fitran did not retreat.

"If I cannot cleave your body..."

"Then let cleave your loneliness." A light of longing surrounded his figure, clarifying the pain hidden behind the heroic facade, creating a touching image as he stood tall against his fate.

"And imagine," he prepared for the third attack with burning determination. Excalibur did not destroy; the magic of the sword did not subdue. Yet, just before he attacked, he called forth a new magic: "Luminous Rift." With a gentle motion, ambient light in the form of a roar exploded, creating unity with a new dinsion, producing a shimring illusion that danced around him, as if the world around him dissolved into the beauty of magical light.

"And imagine," he continued, "as I establish 'Vortex of Echoes.'" The distorted voices of shadows spun and glided, forming echoes that flooded the entire battlefield with a vibrating lody. The deeply buried mories in the hearts of the enemies infiltrated their souls, triggering nostalgia and fear in a universe of dreams filled with hope.

But his spirit grew even more pure as he called out firmly, "Substantial Mirage!" At that mont, light and shadow collided in a dramatic dance, creating a srizing illusion. The boundaries between reality and fantasy faded, opening the curtain to reveal wounds without blood—only a touching relief, filling the emptiness in the deep silence.

Yet, in a world that rejected love, there was one man who continued to cleave not to win, but to remind of the deepest aning. As if every sweep of his sword was not just about battle, but about breathing life into the darkness, ensuring that love could still shine even in the most unexpected dinsions that ever existed.