In a space that no longer has a name, in a place where time has stopped defining presence, Fitran and Beelzebub stand again, wrapped in a deep silence.
But now—there are no roles, no teachers, no students. No demons, no saviors. Just two souls who have opened themselves entirely, adrift in the brink of uncertainty, yet still enduring in existence.
Their bodies are touched by warm light, flowing gently like a river of night shimmering under the moonlight. Fitran drips his essence into a ritual bowl, which appears as a sacred vessel holding hopes and feelings. Beelzebub ignites a small flame in the midst of a floating glyph circle, the flame flickering as if responding to their beating hearts.
They sit cross-legged, facing each other, and close their eyes.
Yet the world does not fade, as if refusing to succumb to silence. The world—begins to breathe in rhythm with their bodies.
The first breath: a hunger not for the body, but for the existence that wishes to unite, desiring a deeper intimacy. The second breath: a fear of hurting one another, even though their entire selves are open, like flowers blooming in spring, yet vulnerable to the wind. The third breath: the courage to hide nothing anymore, even the darkest sides, revealing vulnerability as a form of strength.
In the silence, they feel their heartbeats intertwining, as if each pulse whispers secrets that only they understand. Behind their closed eyelids, symbolic visions of their journey swirl, imagining a sea full of stars, where waves undulate reaching the sky, each wave reminding them of the enticing uncertainty of feelings; while the stars twinkle with hope, urging them to explore the depths of their untouched hearts.
Without words, their bodies begin to draw closer, as if fate pulls them into an inevitable dance. The first touch is not on skin, but on the layer between feeling and form—where humanity has yet to call it "love," and demons have yet to call it "weakness."
They touch each other with:
Forehead to forehead,
Fingers to heart,
Hips to breath.
In every touch, there is a vibration that transcends time, connecting them in an unbroken moment. They both feel each other's heartbeats, as if they can read the unspoken messages etched with long-buried longing. There seems to be a bridge woven, flowing with magical energy that binds their souls tighter, bringing them to the gentle corners of eternal peace.
And slowly, the outside world ceases to exist. Only the soft ringing of their bodies calling to each other remains.
"I will not take you," whispers Fitran. "I will stay with you, even when you shiver from feelings you do not yet understand."
And slowly, the outside world fades into deep silence. Only the gentle ringing of their bodies calling to each other remains, like a fine accent adding beauty to a symphony.
"I will not take you," whispers Fitran, his voice barely audible, yet full of determination. "I will stay with you, even when you shiver from feelings you do not yet understand, guiding you in the dark."
"Teach me... how to be weak," Beelzebub replies, her gaze conveying deep vulnerability. "And still be considered beautiful, even when revealed in helplessness."
Suddenly, a soft light surrounds them, as if the universe witnesses every second of this intimate ritual. In the suffocating silence, every gaze becomes a window, opening the depths of unexpected souls, touching parts that have never been revealed. Their breaths intertwine, creating a harmony that envelops their hearts, filling every empty space between them with genuine warmth.
They merge in silence. Not just with desire, but with an almost painful need to no longer be apart, to become one more complete soul. The silent moments are filled with soft whispers, like leaves rustling in the warm wind, allowing every doubt to gradually fade into a strong bond.
Their bodies move in a slow rhythm—like a melody without notes, gently flowing in the embrace of a starry night. In every movement, there is grace, as if they are two stars dancing under the moonlight, bound by fate and a deep desire to support each other, carving traces of love in unexpected harmony.
Every movement is not merely friction, but like a letter rewritten on each other's skin. In every touch, they find the courage to step into the brink of uncertainty, allowing themselves to be part of a greater journey, embracing each other in the eternity of feeling.
They do not scream. They do not push. They breathe, cry, and flow—like two rivers that know each other, knowing that if one stops, the other will dry up too. Between their heartbeats, there is a silent symphony, singing unspoken feelings. Every breath and tear becomes a score that binds them in harmony, as if the outside world fades into their unconsciousness, leaving only the presence of each other.
Beelzebub holds Fitran's hand, and for the first time, she says:
"I do not want to be eternal… if it means I have to lose this." Her voice trembles, creating resonance in the endless space between them. She feels the warmth of Fitran's handhold, as if every finger that touches channels the vibrations of the universe into her soul, conveying the depth of feelings that are difficult to express in words.
As they reach the peak of feeling—not just an explosion, but the perfect silence that envelops them, time seems to pause for a moment. In that silence, their gazes merge, conveying an indescribable depth, as if their eyes become windows guiding directly into each other's souls. Behind that gaze, they find a mirror reflecting darkness and light, wounds and healing, desires and sacrifices—each element feels alive, vibrating in unexpected harmony.
On their foreheads appears a single point of light, shining softly like morning dew. A sign that the ritual has reached its peak. That nameless love has successfully manifested in a body without fear. The light radiates with warmth that embraces them, as if merging in a divine hug, marking a transformation that transcends physical boundaries. A new awareness begins to envelop them, seeping into every corner of their hearts and minds, suggesting that they are no longer two separate entities, but a harmonious unity in an eternal symphony.
On that day, Beelzebub not only became human.
She evolved into a being who knows that love does not belong to anyone—but still chooses to stay. In this sacred moment, she feels every heartbeat as an unspoken promise, every flow of feeling as a sacred ritual. Love not only changes them but frees them from the shackles of sorrow and loneliness that bind, teaching them the true meaning of sacred and invaluable togetherness.