Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time Chapter 525 Deus Ex Machina Primordial Core

After leaving Narthrador, Fitran Fate carried within him a fragnt of the "Void in Gear" and the record of wounds in a world that the system never understood. He stepped into an ancient territory older than history itself: a place that had never been written, only ntioned in the silent tremors of old machines.

The darkness around him felt thick, like layers of dust accumulated over centuries, subrging everything in a heavy silence. The air in that place presented a tallic aroma that clung to the tip of his tongue, creating an unforgettable bitter taste. Tiny shimring particles floated around him, as if they were shards of light from long-dead stars, reminding him of beauty that had vanished.

This place was known in the experintal manuscripts of Deus as:

"Pre-chanical Layer." "Deus Ex Machina: Primordial Core."

It was neither underground, nor floating in the sky.

It existed in the gap between functions, an interstitium of logic—a space between the first command and the first action. In the palpable silence, a soft voice from unseen chanisms spoke in a regular creak, as if inviting Fitran to listen to the secrets buried deep within. The voice seed to be an invitation, calling him to dive deeper into the mysteries that awaited.

There were no doors to enter that place. But now, Fitran had no clear definition, and the system itself was very welcoming, opening the way for him. The whispering sound flowed like fingers of wind penetrating the recesses of his soul, whispering promises of new adventures that tempted him in the unexpected expanse.

The world surrounding the Primordial Core was a form that could not be comprehended by humans:

Gears spun in directions that could not be explained, creating a sound akin to a soft hum that filled the mysterious space around. The space itself seed to reflect the past and the future, blurring the boundaries of ti in a confusing manner. Every passing second was allowed to drift, challenging the certainty of ti. In that enveloping atmosphere, there was a sound—not an echo, but an intention buried in silence, waiting to be revealed. As the light particles flickered in the darkness, perhaps it was the remaining hope, marking the traces of everything that had been lost.

In the midst of this strangeness: A glimpse appeared—a chanical heart, older than Deus, quieter than the Void, beating with an asymtrical rhythm. The pulse seed to tell a silenced legend, seeping into Fitran's soul, bringing tranquility amidst the existential noise that constantly disturbed.

As Fitran stepped into the core, the world system seed to pause for a mont. In this astonishing silence, all elents around him united in harmony, like an orchestra waiting for the first beat to begin its symphony.

"Welco, heir of the unwritten aning." "We are the Primordial Core." "We were not born from machines." "We are the reason machines were created."

Fitran stood still, srized by the presence that enveloped him. His hand touched the first layer of the heart—where all the original failures flowed: The first prototype of Deus created to produce a perfect human from a single command.

The errors in the original design of the Void erged, not to destroy, but to create space for the unexplainable, an emptiness that invited curiosity. And... the first experint sought to create ti, not rely as a chanical sequence, but as a form of prayer, a hope woven into every passing second.

Fitran closed his eyes, savoring that mont. All information flowed into his mind without words, rging in the penetrating silence. In this profound stillness, waves of energy seed to whisper secrets to every cell of his body, penetrating the layers of his existence and igniting a new understanding that overflowed. The darkness spun, dancing around the chanical heart, creating living abstract images—like stars vibrating in an undefined space, radiating mysterious light with indescribable nuances.

And in the midst of the chaos, his ears caught a clear phrase from the core entity, an expression that shook his soul:

"Your Origin Code... is incomplete."

Open Protocol: Accessus Ad Kōdon Primordialis

The core system opened the initial codes of creation—but not in a readable form. Instead, to be inhaled, absorbed into the fabric of Fitran's existence slowly, as if growing a new organ that sohow had never existed before.

A flow of undefined coolness flooded Fitran's soul, gliding over the gentle current emitted by the Primordial Core, creating a sensation that was almost mystical. The cells within his body connected in a symphony full of riddles, producing soft sounds that seed to dance in the realm of consciousness, awakening buried mories, giving new life to concepts that his mind had never explored.

Around Fitran, the air tamorphosed into letters that seed disconnected, characters of the Void falling from the sky of knowledge before they could be arranged into aningful sentences.

Each breath he took drew in fragnts that touched his soul, forming a vibrant whole:

"aetherium-nil," "intentio-vacua," "forma sine forma."

Fitran's bones glowed, as if filled with light that had long been imprisoned, radiating beams that transcended physical boundaries. The space around him vibrated, releasing waves of resonance resembling ripples in a sea of ideas, where the arc of reality gently opened between opposing dinsions. And for the first ti since Narthrador... he felt whole, filled with profound aning.

But as he united with the deepest layers of the Primordial Core, the system began to react. Within the rigid walls of logic, an ancient guardian erged that even Beelzebub was unaware of:

Non-Causal Sentinel: Calva Prima.

She was a female entity, clothed in glyphs, not ordinary fabric, with every line and symbol creating a living, pulsing tapestry. Her face was eternal, showing no signs of age because she had never been born into the world. With colors of light flickering, her skin seed to be covered by a rainbow, and her steps did not touch the ground, but left echoes of forms that could be felt, like traces etched in the collective mory accessible only to the very fortunate. Her voice flowed like unfinished sentences, whispering from the first system's writer, radiating a profound aura of mystery.

"You must not take this code."

"Because this code... is the primal form of human will."

"And human will... is feared by all machines."

Fitran gazed deeply into Calva Prima's eyes, which seed to hold the entire universe within them, glowing with untold mysteries. Every second felt tense, with a gentle whispering wind carrying uncertainty, as if voices from a higher world traversed the space between them, creating an aura of doubt and hope.

"If our will is feared, why did you create space for it?"

Calva Prima grasped the empty space before her, channeling unseen energy, transforming it into a vibrating field full of potential. Around her, the universe seed to gaze with curiosity, as if waiting for an answer that would unveil the mysteries etched in ti.

"Because without will... there is no pain."

"And without pain... there is no reason to rember."

Every word that flowed from Calva Prima's lips intertwined in an atmosphere full of tension, adding weight to the decision faced by Fitran. He stood firm, neither attacking nor retreating.

He embedded the Origin Code into the floor of that world, rging it with the fragnt of the Primordial, creating a wave of light that surged from their point of intersection, weaving a connection with all existence. With a calm yet determined voice, he said:

"I did not co to perfect humanity." "I ca... to embrace those rejected by the system."

Calva Prima launched an attack. Not with magic. But with a perfect version of Fitran.

As if the space around him distorted by the presence of sothing much greater, the glowing light from the Primordial Core illuminated every dark corner with a terrifying aura that halted ti. Subtle vibrations echoed, flowing through the ground, like a symphony of the universe responding to the call from the depths of imagination and intertwined realities.

System Illusion: Ideal Fitran – The Forged Saint

Before them, the form of Fitran appeared unscathed, without doubt, reflecting a love that never failed. He was the embodint of heartbreaking perfection.

He saved Rinoa, the mont where hope and courage intertwined.

He united with Beelzebub, strength and darkness harmonizing together.

He was an unshakeable symbol, never wrong in choosing the path to take.

He was the ideal simulation of what should have happened; there were no mistakes in his steps.

And the universe seed to whisper between the gaps of ti, reminding that fate is not rely a ga of chance, but the result of choices made and inevitable sacrifices.

But now, Fitran had to fight himself... a figure that had never fallen into darkness.

"If you win, you reject perfection." "If you lose, then the world gains a hero."

Fitran stood resolutely, as if he were on the brink of two worlds. He felt the energy from the Primordial Core flowing through every fiber of his being, awakening extraordinary power that united mind and soul in magnificent harmony.

With a gaze full of determination, he spoke to his duplicate:

"I love all my versions... ...but the one who falls and still chooses to stand..." ...is the one worthy of rewriting the world."

The battle occurred not in movent, but in the contrast of profound anings.

And as the perfect simulation of Fitran raised his sword— Fitran raised a na that echoed throughout the darkness.

Not a spell full of power. Just a na, containing all the stories that ever existed.

"Kieran." "Sheena." "Beelzebub." "Rinoa."

Amidst the utterance of those inseparable nas, the distortion of space and ti seed to open a portal to various possibilities; the torrent of these nas surged in the haunting silence, giving birth to mories hidden in the recesses of the soul, uniting every soul connected in similar destinies and supporting each other like fine threads in a web of fate.

However, the illusion... could not contain the nas full of wounds, each na seed to carry a multitude of sadness and buried hopes.

Because he... had no place for them.

Calva Prima faded.

In the dark and silent atmosphere, the space around them seed to vibrate, absorbing every nuance of uncertainty. Shadows flowed between the fading lights, creating the illusion of figures passing without a trace, like a gust of wind erasing footprints in the sand.

She gazed at Fitran with sharp eyes and said:

"Continue. Then the system will reject it."

"But we will witness it."

In the midst of that conversation, the roar of the Primordial Core filled the air, emitting subtle vibrations that seed to trace the spine, resonating through every cell in their bodies. Another presence was felt, a collective consciousness interacting with every phrase spoken, waiting for the right mont to rise from the darkness.

Fitran fully united with the Primordial Core, as if his soul rged with an unexpected power. His imagination overflowed in a circle of energy, like stars colliding in the dark night sky, creating glimrs of light dancing around his body. As if every movent was enveloped by an invisible embrace from the elents that ford the universe, cradling him in magnificent harmony.

And for the first ti...

The Origin Code ignited in a color never before known to Deus:

Clear.

The light spread like gentle waves on the surface of a calm lake, creating ripples that reflected the deepest secrets of existence. Each scintillation vibrated with notes that could only be understood by those who explored the boundaries of reality, conveying ssages guarded in the silence of ti.