After Null Crown was defeated by the Sword of Voidlight, and the crown that once denied existence transformed into fertile land where meaning sprouts, the world began to breathe again.
However, beneath the new foundation built from embraced wounds, there remains one truth yet to be revealed.
Rinoa.
Her name has been mentioned, prayed for, and even longed for. Yet it has never been fully remembered.
Fitran stood before the last Deus terminal, a machine more akin to a weeping steel tree of data, rather than just a computer or altar. From the sprawling roots, a fragment of memory emerged.
Initial Recording: Rinoa Origin Protocol
"Subject: Rinoa Lir Seraphin." "Species: Homo Eternum." "Chronological Age: ±9,230,000 years." "Status: Last of the genetic line type ∇-R." "Threat: Targeted by external entities categorized as Alien God." "Status: Sealed by the Deus Ex Machina system through Void Isolation procedures."
Fitran was frozen, powerless against this reality.
He did not understand those terms, but within him, his heart stirred. It was as if the name "Rinoa Lir Seraphin" had inhabited his soul long before he understood what love was. In his darkness, a window seemed to open, offering light that called to him, creating a pain that seeped deep into his bones.
"Why… has no one ever mentioned this?"
The Deus tree answered not with words, but with images:
Rinoa, still a child, stood alone in the emptiness of the fallen sky debris. In her gaze was an unquenchable hope, as if she believed in the miracle that might soon manifest. Yet, in the corner of her heart, shadows of doubt lurked, spreading a sense of helplessness that enveloped her.
Her voice was swallowed by the void, but her eyes blazed:
"I do not want to be a variable." "I want to choose." "Even if my choice... causes all systems to collapse."
Looking ahead, Rinoa felt waves of fear gripping her tightly. Every choice she made became a path to an endless abyss, leading her to painful introspection. Guilt was like roots that sank deep, reinforcing the uncertainty that enveloped her soul.
Rinoa was not merely a passive victim. She chose to step into Deus, disguising herself as a "system trigger" in the hope of canceling the Alien God's design that sought to turn her into a pillar of fixed meaning. Within her, she waged war against a series of suffocating questions; if every choice meant losing everything, then was the freedom she yearned for truly worth fighting for?
But Deus, with its terrifying intelligence, learned quickly. It froze Rinoa, sealing every precious memory that remained, and created a Void protective system to ensure that no soul could find her again. In her pitch-black darkness, Rinoa felt the suffocating loneliness, as if her soul were trapped in a labyrinth with no way out, surrounded by the shadows of the past.
Fitran fell to the ground, trembling—not from fear, but because he felt something within him beginning to awaken. Each heartbeat thudded like vibrations touching the deepest layers of his consciousness, stirring buried and mysterious memories, as if whispers from afar were calling his name.
"Why... do I feel guilty?" That question slipped from his lips, almost unutterable. He felt trapped in a cracked mirror, gazing at shadows that reminded him of a dark and painful past, as if each crack symbolized an unhealed wound.
"Why do I feel I should remember this?" A strange compulsion filled his heart, as if something greater than himself was drawing attention and awakening a deep sense of regret, like a soft voice echoing in the empty space.
And from within him… the deepest voice responded: Besides dismissing the fear that enveloped him, the voice was full of warmth and firmness, as if reminding him of an unbreakable bond, like a fine thread connecting souls.
"Because you were there then." These words flowed like a calming river current, yet behind its flow lay a deep sadness and condemnation, awakening buried memories.
"And you... chose to forget it." Each syllable felt like sharp shards of glass, piercing the heart and shaking the guilt that continued to bind him, as if reminding him of a promise that had been broken.
Most of the meaning in Deus was shaped by an anti-memory system, creating tyranny for those trapped within it. Some beings once existed in the early days, leaving their marks on the earth… only to be forgotten, submerged in the oblivion of history. And Fitran was one of them. There was a loneliness that enveloped the journey of his memory, as if every step taken in this world was built upon sacrifices he had rejected with all his soul.
The terminal unraveled data, displaying an unavoidable truth:
"Companion Subject: Fitran – status: Guardian Failure." A disappointment full of explosions struck him; that statement felt like a harsh verdict, affirming all the doubts that had gnawed at his heart and soul with an unmanageable sense of loneliness.
"Task: To protect subject Rinoa from within the layers of Deus." A task that should have been noble now felt like a crushing burden, creating a gap in his soul that was difficult to comprehend, as if the scattered pieces of his hopes were left behind. He wanted to ask the dark sky whether this was what fate meant? Or merely a fatal mistake trapped in the fabric of destiny? It all felt so biting and utterly unfair, burning with bitterness.
"Incident: Subject relinquished her will to seal Rinoa deeper, so that the Alien God could not track her."
"Consequence: Memory Disconnection. Identity Reintegration Delayed."
Fitran was not merely a failed protector. He was the last key—who chose to be forgotten, to give Rinoa a chance to survive longer against any God threatening in the darkness.
But within the darkness of this decision, his mind was trapped in a labyrinth of deep sorrow. He felt as if his soul were split in two, each side struggling to understand the inevitable separation. Why must they be separated from the love that should unite them? With every heartbeat that vibrated, he felt the gap between his existence and Rinoa's presence widening, like an abyss difficult to cross.
Tears fell from his eyes, not merely from sadness, but from a feeling... of awe and horror at a love so great, so strong, that it was hard to express in words.
"I sacrificed my entire self… for someone… whom I cannot even remember."
As his words echoed in the thick silence of the night, it felt as if he was releasing a heavy burden that had long been buried. A deep longing and regret enveloped his being, like a thin fog covering the morning, leaving a sense of emptiness and void.
"But my heart... does not forget."
"And that is enough."
The Last Terminal Lit Up:
"Do you wish to restore the memory?"
"Risk: Collapse of current personality."
"Benefit: Rinoa may recognize you again."
Fitran did not answer immediately, remaining silent in the suffocating stillness pressing against his chest. His head throbbed, flowing with a silent voice that reminded him of the traces of memories left behind in the dark space tightly sealed. Every choice felt painful, like a valley filled with thorns, attacking the sense of security he tried to build. Every possibility, like pure poison, flowed through his veins sharply and slowly.
Suddenly, he gazed at the Sword of Voidlight still standing on the ground, as if reminding him of all that had happened. In that moment, he whispered to the night wind, "Not now." "Let her choose whether she wants to remember me." "I... will wait for her."
And at that moment, the last Deus tree bloomed for the first time. From the cold and unyielding steel trunk, a delicate purple flower grew—a color that had never existed in the Deus system. The flower seemed to hold the essence of everything, an acknowledgment of a love that was not asked to be returned.
Rinoa was not merely a foundation. She was not just code. She was not a goddess. She was a human—who chose to be forgotten to survive amidst the complexities of feelings. In this uncertainty, there was a deep pain, as if every passing second was a reminder of how fragile that choice was. Fitran was a mirror of her choice. In his eyes, Rinoa saw the reflection of what she had left behind; her inability to fully accept herself felt like a dark shadow that continued to follow, fighting against the light she sought to reach in the future.