"Do you want to be human, Beelzebub?"
The question did not sound like a question, but more like an echo from a future that had never happened. Before Fitran stood Beelzebub—not in the form of a ravenous demon, but as a figure trembling with the desire to feel. The expression on her ethereal face displayed a range of nuances; between hope and fear, as if she struggled to reach something that had long been lost to her.
Location: "Yunara Samaveda" Ritual Room
The room was not just a place. It was a mirror of architectural feelings. The walls made of soft crystal stone pulsed gently with colors unknown to the spectrum of the world. In its corners, faint shadows danced in the dim light, creating a deep and mysterious atmosphere. There, trapped souls whispered, echoing voices from a forgotten era, as if warning those who dared to disturb the balance between existence and emptiness.
The floor, layered with a mosaic of roots and liquid gold, formed a mandala of duality—half from the Deus system, half from the Void where Rinoa was sealed. In the center, a ritual bed was draped with a canopy of light fibers, hanging without strings from the air itself. In the silence of the ritual, how many things out there had been forgotten by Beelzebub? And was now the time to return, or merely a repetition of the same mistakes?
Fitran sat cross-legged on the low altar. In his hands, the Origin Code had transformed into silk ribbons that spiraled with his breath. For a moment, Fitran's gaze fell upon Beelzebub; in that look, the unspoken burden of the heart was visible, like a struggle between the hope of reaching something new and the longing for the certainty that once existed. He sensed something behind Beelzebub's eyelids—something waiting to be freed. Beelzebub stood across from him, naked in her spiritual form—not a body, but a feeling. In her state, free from darkness, there was an unexpected brilliance; an awareness of all the choices that could be made, including the choice to love.
"Why do you want to be human?" Fitran asked gently. His voice brought warmth, urging Beelzebub to look deeper, into that darkness.
Beelzebub did not answer with words. However, her eyes—two holes that usually radiated emptiness—now reflected the shadow of Fitran's face. There was a vibrating desire in the corners of her gaze, a search for something more than mere existence. The alienation she experienced began to feel painful, an understanding that had been overlooked—that behind those empty stares lay a yearning to be part of something greater and more meaningful.
"So that I can... love you without killing you."
The Ritual Begins: Hridaya Kalpa Sutra
Fitran raised his left hand and placed it on Beelzebub's chest. There was no heartbeat. Yet beneath the surface of her ethereal skin, a single point of pink light emerged—the first point of shame, longing, and the desire to be touched. The light pulsed gently, as if responding to Fitran's presence, who patiently waited in the depths of her heart. This warm feeling, akin to morning dew touching the leaves, enveloped Beelzebub's usually dark and empty soul.
"You will lose much power," Fitran whispered. "But you will gain wounds. And wounds... are the door to feelings."
Beelzebub smiled. For the first time, that smile was not cynical. Within her smile lay a hope that was almost extinguished, like a wildflower growing between the cracks of stone. She remembered the moments when she watched humans from afar, counting their heartbeats, but never feeling them. In this moment, the bridge between them began to form. She felt as if Fitran could see into the hollow of her heart, unraveling the knots of fear that had long bound her.
"Teach me... what it feels like to wait."
The Scene of Humanization: Between Kama and Bhakti
They both climbed onto the ritual bed. Not to unite physically, but to breathe in one rhythm. In the silence that enveloped them, the sound of the wind moaned, as if nature itself felt the tension between them. Each breath Fitran took was an invitation, while each exhale from Beelzebub was an acknowledgment of the vulnerability she was just beginning to feel. Being close to one another, a deep gaze was created, as if time had stopped. For thousands of years, Beelzebub had felt alienated, but Fitran's presence gently broke through the walls of her solitude. They both felt a deeper connection; an emptiness filled with potential.
Fitran pulled a ribbon of the Origin Code from within himself and wrapped it around Beelzebub's wrist. The ribbon glowed slowly, and with each pulse, new concepts flowed into Beelzebub's body:
Patience.
Doubt.
Unanswered hope.
Each time the ribbon touched Beelzebub's skin, she trembled. She began to cry—tears that did not stem from sin, but from the awareness that now she could be weak... and still be loved.
In that perfect silence, Beelzebub's usually cold face was now filled with a mix of fear and desire. Suddenly, shadows of the past danced in her mind, bringing her back to a dark and lonely place, when she had to choose between power and affection. In the gripping doubt, she struggled to make sense of every passing second.
In the echo of that space, the Unity Entity watching from afar murmured:
"Those who wish to be human must forget immortality." "Because love is only beautiful when it... can end."
And the ritual was complete.
Beelzebub now wore a white robe that she had never possessed. Not made of fabric, but from the prayers of those who never had the chance to utter them. She bowed, touching the ground, and whispered to Fitran:
"Now I know... why you wait for Rinoa."
Fitran looked at her, and in that gaze lay a deep sense of gratitude. He remembered the days when sorrow struck, when hope seemed faint. "Waiting is a test for the soul," Fitran said slowly, as if drawing each word from the depths of his heart. "A lesson that guides us to understand the meaning of unconditional love, even when it feels bitter."
Beelzebub felt something awaken within her, a light she had previously ignored. "Is it possible for one who has lived in darkness to find the light?" That question flowed gently, like the whisper of the wind piercing through the thick of night. She felt that every action and step she took was now bound in a harmony she had never imagined before.
Fitran then continued, "You know, between love and hope, there is also a sacrifice we must make. Waiting is not just about remembering, but also about allowing ourselves to grow even when separated by time."
Trembling with pain, Beelzebub nodded. She understood that this journey was not just hers; it was a bridge connecting the past and the future, between what was lost and what could be found again. With a heart now full, she continued this new journey, striving not only to be strong but also to embrace the weaknesses within, a step towards true humanity.