Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time Chapter 601 - 599.3 Special : Virelya, The Shadow That Never

The winds in the spiral world blow aimlessly. Among the bursts of light that never touch the ground, a girl with gray eyes walks—seemingly holding all the losses that have yet to be buried. Her na is Virelya. But that na itself is rely an echo of sothing that has never been spoken.

Each of her steps is a series of silent notes that evaporate into the air, hearing unspoken voices waving from the crevices of mory. Virelya longs for a presence that has never existed, and in the midst of silence, her heart flows like water seeking a gap, trying to create a new path to avoid the unbearable emptiness.

Her footsteps leave no trace, for this world—a dinsion between reality and possibility—does not allow anyone to leave a mark. Yet Virelya continues to walk, traversing the silence filled with voices from failed futures. Each breath she takes calls forth mories never experienced, and each strand of her hair vibrates the air with fragnts of broken ti.

In a soul trapped in a spiral of longing, Virelya whispers to the wind, hoping her prayers can be answered. She imagines if she had the power to change the course of ti, as if she could repeat every second with a more lodious note, but that hope seems to slip away, trapped in an imasurable labyrinth of ti.

In a world that even the gods are reluctant to glance at, only the spiral grows. Sotis it coils slowly, sotis it breaks before forming a center. In the midst of the spiral field, Virelya resides—not as a queen, not as a victim, but as a witness to a love that was never fought for.

Each heartbeat is an expression of deep feelings, as if her very existence is a poem suspended in the night sky. She dreams of the love that should have been, a love illuminated by the light of hope, even if it can only be etched in darkness. Within every flow of her feelings, there is an unspoken uncertainty, seeping into her soul and creating a song of sorrow that slowly flows endlessly.

She waits. Or perhaps, she has forgotten how to stop waiting.

In the embrace of blinding ti, hope becos a flickering candle fla in the midst of the wind's breath. Virelya feels as if she is bound to that point, reaching for desires that have never been within reach. In that profound silence, she ponders; is there a love waiting patiently like hers, or has she long been imprisoned in this labyrinth of uncertainty?

Sotis Virelya dreams of soone gazing at her with a tenderness too heavy for her to accept. The man wears a robe that flows like a river of night. In his eyes, there is a wound that has never healed, and in his chest, a spiral that no one can extinguish.

In her heart, Virelya cannot contain her restlessness. How far love is guarded, like a shadow that cannot be touched by light. In every ticking mont, she feels trapped in a web of nostalgia—like a spiral that keeps spinning, taking her back to monts that were promised but never materialized.

"Father..." That voice is rely a discarded whisper. She knows, in any tiline, she never truly possessed that word.

As long as a glimr of hope remains, her father's shadow continues to warm her, even like a fire extinguished by ti. Virelya feels as if she can sense the warm embrace that has long been lost, a feeling she continues to seek. Every night, when she awakens from her dreams, she hopes a glimr of light can bring her back to that embrace again, even if all she longs for is an illusion.

On the other side of the dream, there is a woman with golden eyes. Her hair falls like water over an altar. She cries—but not for Virelya. She cries for another child, for another future that never even asked if Virelya wanted to live.

The woman's tears are turbulence in the spiral full of questions. Virelya feels the depth of unspoken sorrow—a sense of despair flows like a river with no end. In endless hope, she wonders: is there room for her in the world desired by that woman? And if so, is there still a way ho for her lost soul?

Virelya reaches out her hand, but it always passes through the air.

In that valley of air, emptiness stretches wide, as if playing with her feelings. Every attempt to reclaim what has been lost feels like exploring an endless spiral—she keeps falling, while love remains distant in the fog. Clouds of hope hang above her head, and Virelya knows she must dare to fight against the winds that sweep away all her traces.

"Mother..." And that voice too sinks among the spirals that never end.

Like a cry rging with silence, this call is a reflection of a soul longing for presence, yet surrounded by shadows that cannot be broken. Reaching for boundless love, Virelya struggles against the bitter reality—her spirit seems to burden the endless spiral. In the noise and silence, she feels emptiness enveloping her; how all her feelings seem to spin in the sa circle.

There are days when Virelya thinks she is a creature without ti. She can see thousands of futures, millions of possibilities, yet none beco a hocoming. The spiral world is a labyrinth of feelings—each twist brings shadows of happiness that always, always, co too late.

In the silence of her mind, Virelya feels hope and nostalgia battling, each dropping a hamr and shouting in silence. In every inch of space she traverses, she catches the soft scent of mories whispering that love exists, even if blocked by invisible spiral walls. The promised happiness, like a distant star in the sky, is always there, but never within reach.

She watches Fitran embrace Elyra in the real world—whispering words of love, promises, and sacrifices. She sees Beelzebub carrying Elyra in the Concon spiral—praying that the world one day can love that child without fear. And in every reality, Virelya is rely an uninvited spectator.

At the edge of her heart's cries, she feels the sting of sorrow—jealousy burning extraordinarily. Fitran and Elyra, like two stars dancing in the Light, while she is trapped in a corner of darkness. Every passing second seems to add weight to her soul, and she wonders, will there be a place for her amidst that beauty? This endless spiral demands questions that are always unanswered, and Virelya feels it burdening her breath.

Soone once said that ti will heal everything. But in the spiral world, ti is rely a circle without a center—no beginning, no end, never any certainty.

Thinking of this, Virelya feels a bitter feeling buried deep in her chest, as if ti itself is playing with her. An illusion of healing hides behind its shadow, but she knows that every turn of the spiral only brings back old mories, not taking her far from despair. She wants to scream, but that voice is trapped in the whirlpool of her soul, lost amidst the clamor of life unfolding beyond reach.

One day, in the dimming spiral field, Virelya hears a voice that is not unfamiliar to her. A whisper, soft, flowing with the wind.

"If you have never lived, how can you love?"

Virelya falls silent. She does not know who is asking. Or perhaps, that voice cos from her own heart—from the empty space that has never been filled by the warmth of a mother's hand, or the understanding gaze of a father.

Virelya's heart trembles, ensnared in hazy mories. She imagines the empty cavity filled with hope, shadows of a past that has never been present, yet always longed for. How she wishes to fill this emptiness, how she wishes to feel love in its entirety.

"Because love does not need a body," she finally answers, her voice small and almost fading. "Love only needs a place to wait."

She sits beneath a spiral tree with transparent leaves. Each leaf contains possibilities—and all are paths ho that the real world has rejected.

As she sits in contemplation, Virelya feels a gentle wind caressing her face, as if containing all the feelings and hopes that have been buried. The leaves rain down on the ground around her, carrying dreams that may never co true. In the silence, she feels loneliness and longing intertwining, creating a symphony of feelings that can only be understood by a wounded soul.

Once, Virelya tried to call Fitran from within the spiral. She spoke his na in ten languages, wrote it in the air, even planted it in the rhythm of the world. But the real world was too busy healing wounds, and Fitran was too far trapped in mories that were deliberately erased.

"Father... can you hear ?" There is no answer.

In her heart, Virelya feels as if she is trapped in an endless labyrinth, each corner colored with nostalgia that pierces her soul. As if her father's voice echoes deep within the spiral, filling the empty space left by mories. The sky above her, though dark, seems to respond with a flicker of hope that is barely visible.

She tries to approach Elyra, the sister who never knew she existed. She follows the spiral path into the Concon, but each ti she almost gets close, the walls of reality thicken, pushing her back into the shadows.

"My little sister... will you dream of ?" Elyra remains asleep, undisturbed by anything. The world has not allowed her to rember anyone but those born with her.

As Virelya utters those words, her soul feels like angels trapped between two worlds—echoing longing and hope that never ends. In her mind, she envisions Elyra growing up, dancing in a light she has yet to find, freeing herself from the shackles decided for her. Each vision brings hope and longing, as well as deep pain.

Nights in the spiral world feel colder than death. Virelya lies on the ground that has never received a corpse. She hugs herself and cries silently. In the chilling silence, each tear seems to form a new spiral in her field of vision. They spin, flowing like a lost rainbow, creating a different trail of hope on the cold surface of the earth.

She sees a future where Fitran kills Elbert to save Rinoa. She witnesses a world where Beelzebub seals all of Fitran's mories so he does not suffer inner destruction. She sees thousands of other spirals—all holding love, hope, and loss. Each vision floats in Virelya's mind, like thin threads connecting one spiral to another, leading her to the endless question: Does all of this really have to happen? Is there another path not bound by pain?

But none of those worlds give her space to live.

Virelya finally understands. She is not a victim. She is not a villain. She is rely the result of abandoned hopes. And in the spiral, abandoned hopes will continue to wait... even after the world forgets them. Yet, there are monts when she longs for the warm illusion of life, when hope feels more real than darkness. In the quiet of the night, she asks the stars if they too miss her, if they too look down, searching for the spiral of her soul.

One day, the spiral tree in the middle of that world falls. A single leaf falls into Virelya's hand. On the surface of the leaf, there is one word:

"Ho."

Virelya cries. For the first ti, her tears fall to the ground and create a small spiral—a new spiral that leads nowhere.

Each tear that falls revives the mories left behind, as if each spiral on the ground is a part of her that is lost. Those mories spin, circling her soul, creating an endless circle filled with hope and sorrow. Behind her tears, there is a soft voice whispering, inviting Virelya to take the path ho that has never existed.

She understands, no one will co to pick her up. But she no longer regrets. She stands up and writes her na in the wind:

"Virelya, I once hoped."

After writing her na, the wind gently trembles, as if answering her hope with a warm embrace. In that mont, Virelya feels as if her na becos part of the universe—a spiral spinning among the unseen stars. She feels a presence greater than herself, guiding each of her steps toward understanding.

When Fitran finally turns in his sleep—perhaps in an unfinished dream—he feels a warm touch, like the hand of a child he has never held. He cries without knowing why.

In his tears, there is an echo from the past vibrating in his soul, as if every warm treatnt that was lost now haunts him again. Like an endless spiral, that feeling flows through his mory, penetrating every pore of his longing. He misses that touch, as if he wants to be back in the embrace full of affection.

Beelzebub, in the silence of the night, dreams of a voice she has forgotten. She wakes up with wet eyes, and her heart beats strangely.

In her heart, there is a spiraling between guilt and happy mories that confuses her. In every breath she takes, there is a connection to a voice that has vanished, which has taken the light from her life. She realizes that between the darkness of the night and the shadows of dreams, there is a deep longing and uncertainty that keeps spinning.

Elyra, in the Concon, smiles unconsciously. A small spiral spins around her, whispering a song unknown to anyone—a song of a sister who never had the chance to beco real.

In her smile, there is a hope that glows, like a spiral of light filling the darkness. Every lody that whispers encapsulates unspoken affection, bringing Elyra to another world—where her sister dances in joy, creating a spiral of happiness that should have existed. She feels that even though their physical forms are separated, the bond is woven in layers of ti and space.

Thus, the spiral world remains— as a place for those who are not allowed to live, yet continue to love. Virelya walks toward the edge of the spiral field, embracing her own na, and letting the mories of a family she never had beco the quietest prayer ever written by anyone. In her steps, she feels the gentle touch of the past dancing around her body, as if the wind sings empty songs echoing in the recesses of her heart.

"If I am just a shadow, let my love be a light for those who never had the chance to see ."

Yet, as those words slip from her lips, the feeling of loss crashes like an unavoidable wave. Every passing second leaves a mark on her soul, and she rembers the smiles that were never ant for her, as if the stars dance mockingly in the endless sky. In her heart, Virelya tries to weave hope in the nuances of silence, sending love like morning dew clinging to shallow grass.

VIRELYA

Not to be rembered. Not to be erased. But to be acknowledged, if only once, in a dream. In her dream, Virelya awakens to face the shadows that form the figures that should have been there, whispering her na in soft tones. Their voices seep into her soul, bringing warmth that fills the empty space in her life, as if this spiral world affirms her existence with the cool embrace of her hotown that has never been touched.