The world has fallen silent. The sounds that usually fill the space have vanished, as if time has paused for a moment to reflect on what has been lost. Yet beneath the surface of reality that has melted 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 nameless. However... the system cannot allow one thing to remain intact:
Names.
Within Fitran's soul, there is a surge of restlessness, like an unutterable whisper. He feels trapped between two worlds—one filled with meaning, and another being consumed by the dark Void. These names live within him, becoming part of every breath he takes, burdened by an invisible weight.
As long as these names exist, the world still has room for wounds. And as long as wounds can be named... meaning will always return.
Activation of the Final Protocol: Null Protocol: Total Denomination Purge
This protocol erases all names from the network of existence.
Not just identities—but the relationship between meaning and recognition.
People will not know who Rinoa is.
They will not remember who Sheena is.
They will not recognize Jeanne, Joanna, Beelzebub.
Not even... will they know Fitran.
Fitran feels the spirits of the names wandering in the shadows of memory, stirring pain every time he remembers 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 fragments of shattered alphabets, like letters burning in the air. Rain falls, not water, but names dissolving into meaningless sounds.
In the cities, statues fade.
Books turn blank.
People begin to refer to their loved ones as:
"Someone... 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 names he carries, though erased, still vibrate in the recesses of his heart, demanding to be remembered... and to fight against the Void that seeks to swallow everything. He knows, as long as there is memory, the hope to restore meaning will always exist.
"Someone... 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 names manifest into illusions that bite at his soul, leaving a painful and vibrating sensation in his mind. Every unspoken name 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 remember and the fear of a deeper loss. Because the names he carries... begin to be erased one by one.
Kieran.
Jeanne.
Rinoa.
Joanna.
Beelzebub.
All those names... begin to disappear. In the darkness, Fitran hears whispers, not only from the Origin Code, but also from the space within him filled with names that have carved their marks in his heart. Names that should protect, but now become a curse that burdens his soul.
"You cannot carry those names any longer."
"They will turn into empty burdens."
"The system has decided: If meaning cannot be controlled, then its recognition will be erased."
Yet Fitran does not give up. He stands in the midst of the name-erasing tide, and for the first time... his internal voice begins to resonate. A call from the Void pleading for him not to lose the way to remember everything, even as the world tries to forget. He feels the chasm between the eraser and the erased, as if that space becomes a battlefield between threatened identities.
He names those names, not as power—but as a prayer. In every word spoken, it is as if he reignites a small flame of dim memories, giving hope to a part of himself that has long been trapped in uncertainty.
"Kieran... forgive me."
"Beelzebub... if I cannot name you, then I will stand by you without saying anything."
"Rinoa... even if I forget how to spell your name, I have never stopped remembering what it feels like to love you." In every call, his heart burns with the understanding that each name 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 names 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 memories 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 names erased from the world, yet still existing in the vibrations of meaning. 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 glimmer that appears is a sign of those who once lived, names that struggle against the darkness that seeks to forget them.
The world begins to lose memory, but the Origin Code retains the small voices:
"I once had a father..."
"There was someone who hugged me 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 moments that should be immortalized.
The system touches its peak.
"Fitran Fate... no longer has a name."
"You are nobody." Each of those words pierces his heart, forcing him to confront the bitter truth: that in his effort to preserve memories, 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 me be those who are not named."
"Let me... be the space where names can endure."
In that acknowledgment, Fitran feels as if he draws strength from the depths of the Void. Though trapped in solitude, he is determined to become a sacred place for those who are lost. Every name 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 name. He knows, within that emptiness, there are souls waiting to be remembered.
Each name seems to cling to the walls of his heart, waiting for the moment 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 memory.
Fitran's name is no longer mentioned in the world. Yet he continues to walk. And with every step he takes... new words are formed.
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 memory and meaning from those names 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 remembered. In every step he takes, he plants hope, that even if those names are lost, their meaning will continue to live in the hearts that long for them.
"I am the space," he thinks, "where names 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.