Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time Chapter 530 Null Protocol – Reject Name

The world has fallen silent. The sounds that usually fill the space have vanished, as if ti has paused for a mont to reflect on what has been lost. Yet beneath the surface of reality that has lted away, the Deus system has not fully surrendered.

EX-0 has disappeared.

Origin Code has been activated.

Beelzebub is back.

In the dark corners, hundreds of automatons have declared their will. They move with a clear purpose, though naless. However... the system cannot allow one thing to remain intact:

Nas.

Within Fitran's soul, there is a surge of restlessness, like an unutterable whisper. He feels trapped between two worlds—one filled with aning, and another being consud by the dark Void. These nas live within him, becoming part of every breath he takes, burdened by an invisible weight.

As long as these nas exist, the world still has room for wounds. And as long as wounds can be nad... aning will always return.

Activation of the Final Protocol: Null Protocol: Total Denomination Purge

This protocol erases all nas from the network of existence.

Not just identities—but the relationship between aning and recognition.

People will not know who Rinoa is.

They will not rember who Sheena is.

They will not recognize Jeanne, Joanna, Beelzebub.

Not even... will they know Fitran.

Fitran feels the spirits of the nas wandering in the shadows of mory, stirring pain every ti he rembers them. Their voices bloom in his heart, demanding to be desired again; a rejection of the emptiness that grips his soul as if he is the link between the lost and the remaining.

The sky transforms into fragnts of shattered alphabets, like letters burning in the air. Rain falls, not water, but nas dissolving into aningless sounds.

In the cities, statues fade.

Books turn blank.

People begin to refer to their loved ones as:

"Soone... that."

"Who once was."

"I forget, but I know they are important."

And at the center of it all... Fitran stands alone.

His hands grip the now-glowing Origin Code, yet it screams. The symbol ∴⁇ on his chest pulses wildly. Because the nas he carries, though erased, still vibrate in the recesses of his heart, demanding to be rembered... and to fight against the Void that seeks to swallow everything. He knows, as long as there is mory, the hope to restore aning will always exist.

"Soone... that."

"Who once was."

"I forget, but I know they are important."

And at the center of it all... Fitran stands alone. Around his body, the faint shadows of the lost nas manifest into illusions that bite at his soul, leaving a painful and vibrating sensation in his mind. Every unspoken na forms an empty space, as if demanding attention and recognition for the existence of those who should be eternal.

His hands grip the now-glowing Origin Code, yet it screams. The symbol ∴⁇ on his chest pulses wildly. In that pulse, Fitran feels confusion between hope and resignation, between the desire to rember and the fear of a deeper loss. Because the nas he carries... begin to be erased one by one.

Kieran.

Jeanne.

Rinoa.

Joanna.

Beelzebub.

All those nas... begin to disappear. In the darkness, Fitran hears whispers, not only from the Origin Code, but also from the space within him filled with nas that have carved their marks in his heart. Nas that should protect, but now beco a curse that burdens his soul.

"You cannot carry those nas any longer."

"They will turn into empty burdens."

"The system has decided: If aning cannot be controlled, then its recognition will be erased."

Yet Fitran does not give up. He stands in the midst of the na-erasing tide, and for the first ti... his internal voice begins to resonate. A call from the Void pleading for him not to lose the way to rember everything, even as the world tries to forget. He feels the chasm between the eraser and the erased, as if that space becos a battlefield between threatened identities.

He nas those nas, not as power—but as a prayer. In every word spoken, it is as if he reignites a small fla of dim mories, giving hope to a part of himself that has long been trapped in uncertainty.

"Kieran... forgive ."

"Beelzebub... if I cannot na you, then I will stand by you without saying anything."

"Rinoa... even if I forget how to spell your na, I have never stopped rembering what it feels like to love you." In every call, his heart burns with the understanding that each na is an inseparable part of his soul that must be preserved from emptiness.

And at that point...

The Void within the Gear in his chest begins to react.

Not rejecting the erasure.

But becoming a refuge for the nas that cannot be spoken. In the silence filled with longing, he feels the flow of power from the Void, uniting all that has been lost and giving new life to mories that have been pushed out of reality.

Voidwright Technique: Cradle of Forgotten Tongues

Fitran transforms the space within him into a silent reminder, an eternal bed for the nas erased from the world, yet still existing in the vibrations of aning. And as he stands firm, the essence of his soul unites with the unspoken charity, creating a symphony of consciousness that transcends the limits set by the system.

His body begins to shine from within, forming the silhouettes of those who have been forgotten by the world, yet still stand around him. In the midst of that light, Fitran feels a profound sadness, as if thousands of souls gaze at him with longing. Each glimr that appears is a sign of those who once lived, nas that struggle against the darkness that seeks to forget them.

The world begins to lose mory, but the Origin Code retains the small voices:

"I once had a father..."

"There was soone who hugged when I was scared..."

"I don't know who they are... but I want to be like them." Those voices echo in his soul, creating a resonance between the past and the present, carrying an unspoken weight of responsibility. Fitran feels a greater burden—not just being a vessel, but a guardian of precious monts that should be immortalized.

The system touches its peak.

"Fitran Fate... no longer has a na."

"You are nobody." Each of those words pierces his heart, forcing him to confront the bitter truth: that in his effort to preserve mories, he is also losing himself. In that silence, his inner voice intends to resist, determined not to let the darkness erase what has been.

And Fitran answers, without moving his lips:

"Then let be those who are not nad."

"Let ... be the space where nas can endure."

In that acknowledgnt, Fitran feels as if he draws strength from the depths of the Void. Though trapped in solitude, he is determined to beco a sacred place for those who are lost. Every na within him is a star, and he is the sky that holds all the light that may fade.

The sky of the world shatters.

Not due to destruction.

But because of the resonance of wounds that still wish to endure even if unknown.

In the silence that envelops the world, Fitran feels the weight of every unspoken na. He knows, within that emptiness, there are souls waiting to be rembered.

Each na seems to cling to the walls of his heart, waiting for the mont to be brought back into the world that has forgotten them.

And from behind that crack, the voice of a child is heard:

"I don't know who they are..."

"But they are the reason I want to live."

In those words, Fitran feels the rhythm of life that is unbroken, even though he himself is a shadow. Every utterance spoken by that child is like a bridge connecting what has been and what is lost; as if reminding Fitran of his responsibility as a guardian of mory.

Fitran's na is no longer ntioned in the world. Yet he continues to walk. And with every step he takes... new words are ford.

Sweat flows down his temples as he walks, creating faint sounds that begin to whisper, "Don't let us be forgotten." There is a burden gnawing at him, a burning question: Will he succeed in carving mory and aning from those nas before everything fades into the Void?

In the midst of emptiness, Fitran finds strength in uncertainty. He is the bridge between the forgotten and the rembered. In every step he takes, he plants hope, that even if those nas are lost, their aning will continue to live in the hearts that long for them.

"I am the space," he thinks, "where nas can endure, even as the world forgets them." In his mind, images of the Origin Code swirl, a justification behind the reason for his existence. The awareness of his significant role motivates his actions; every breath he takes is a step toward recreation, before everything is ultimately forgotten in the Void.