Dawn crept silently behind the ruins of the city, slipping through the cracks in the crumbling walls and bouncing off the cold stone floor. A faint golden light slowly entered the room where Fitran and Beelzebub were resting. In the peaceful silence, only their breaths could be heard, slowly, harmoniously, calmly.
Beelzebub woke up first. Her body still felt heavy, but not as weak as the night before. Her hand reflexively touched her belly, and for the first time since all of this began, she felt something strange—not anxiety, not fear, but… closeness. A connection she had never imagined before. She paused for a moment, allowing this new feeling to fill her heart. There was a warmth flowing through her, like morning light piercing through the fog, bringing light to the dark parts of herself that had long been forgotten.
As if sensing this wave of emotion, the corners of the room began to speak to her. The cracked walls whispered of loss, but among the gaps, there was a glimmer of hope—like fresh morning dew on the leaves. With every breath, she felt the tension of the past, when she was just emptiness. Now, in this body, she felt a voice within her that begged to be heard. No longer just something hollow, but something full of desires and dreams she had tightly closed off for so long.
On the other side, Fitran was still asleep, one hand tightly holding Beelzebub's hand as if refusing to part even in sleep. He looked peaceful. His face was calm, slightly softer than usual, free from the burdens of war or the will of the gods and demons chasing him. Beelzebub gazed at Fitran, feeling an unexpected surge of affection. Every detail of his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the soft sound of his breath, even the gentle sigh on his lips—seemed to remind her that this love could save them from darkness. In that tranquility, Beelzebub felt a raging conflict, between deep love and the fear of loss that always haunted her.
Beelzebub stared at the man's face for a long time, then whispered in a voice barely audible:
"I am no longer emptiness. I… am a woman. I love him. I carry his child. And I will protect both of them—even if I have to fight the whole world."
As those words slipped from her lips, a storm arose within her. There was a strong fear of losing her freedom, and at the same time, a deep desire to accept this new reality. Yes, the space in her heart that was once empty was now filled with courage and love. She felt like a queen on the battlefield, standing above everything, but with a vulnerability hidden behind it all.
Gently, she touched Fitran's face, feeling him closer, as if trying to channel all the love and worries that surged within her to be understood. She knew she had changed. By acknowledging this love, she also acknowledged her weaknesses. The sky outside began to turn red, signaling a new day full of hope—and in her heart, Beelzebub felt her promise to herself, to no longer run from who she truly was.
Those words lingered in her chest. She remembered a time when she was a nameless, formless entity, just a dark will that could not be understood, feared, and hated. That dark shadow haunted her thoughts again, as if the whispers of the past continued to echo in her ears. However, amidst the golden light that began to illuminate her mind, a feeling grew. A feeling that had previously been considered taboo: the longing to be loved and accepted.
But now, she had a name, a role, and a warm body. She even had weaknesses—and because of that, she felt whole. A few tears fell unbidden, feeling free from the burden of emptiness. She remembered the first time she felt it; a gentle heartbeat within her, which felt like hope. Hope that had never belonged to a formless entity.
Beelzebub stood slowly, putting on her robe that she had removed the night before with tenderness. She stepped outside the ruins, letting the cold morning air sweep across her face. The fog still enveloped parts of the city, but for the first time, she felt that the fog was not threatening. Rather, it was protective. The morning air brought freshness, as if erasing the dark traces that once existed. Every gust of wind felt like a gentle embrace, calming her soul that was turbulent with newfound peace.
She stood at the edge of a high stone, facing the vast ruins, then called something from within her. Her gaze focused on the silhouettes of the debris that reminded her of the uncertainties of the past. Sadness. Yet now, her vision was filled with hope; hope to rebuild, not just from the ruins, but also from the fragility she possessed.
A faint golden light flickered from her hand—the same light that once belonged only to a sacred entity. Now, she was able to control that light, not as emptiness, not as a destructive force, but as a body that was pregnant—holding life, not destruction. Now Beelzebub understood that there was power in vulnerability. She could be a creator of life, not just a harbinger of darkness. The light trembled, as if responding to her feelings, radiating warmth that flowed through her entire being.
Footsteps behind her made her turn. Fitran stood there in his loose robe, his hair disheveled, but his eyes still full of warm light. "You woke up early." Fitran's voice pierced the tranquility, not disturbing, but completing it. As if his presence was part of the reason for her transformation—someone who could see her not as emptiness, but as a valuable being.
Beelzebub smiled slightly. "I want to feel the morning as… my new self." There was something warm in her smile, something that reassured her that this journey was not the end; she had the right to choose her own path, to define her identity.
Fitran stepped closer, standing beside her, gazing in the same direction. "Your new self?" Fitran said, and in his tone, Beelzebub heard a promise—a promise to support her in every step, to recognize the beauty that existed within both of them, even though the world outside was full of darkness.
"I once was emptiness," Beelzebub replied softly. "But now I can feel this air entering my lungs. I can feel my feet touching the world. I can feel… your warmth near me."
She turned to look at Fitran deeply. Doubt and hope struggled within her, creating an emotional complexity that was hard to express. There were moments when the darkness of emptiness gnawed at her soul, reminding her of everything that was lost—living without purpose, just drifting in an eternal void. Those memories were like faint shadows, emerging from the corners of her mind, but Fitran's presence, with his sincere love, was like a light trying to dispel that darkness.
"And for the first time, I want to call myself a woman."
Fitran fell silent, looking at her with eyes that slowly warmed. There was a sincerity in his gaze, as if he was penetrating the emotional walls that Beelzebub had built over the years. "You are the strongest woman I have ever known."
Beelzebub laughed softly. A laugh that was not forced, not bitter, not mad—just a sincere, human laugh. In those moments, she felt her heart beating faster, each beat seemed to sing a song of newfound freedom. "You know… I used to scoff at mortal beings who could be shattered just by feelings. But now, I understand. Those feelings are what make them irreplaceable."
For a moment, the silence between them created space for Beelzebub to reflect on the journey she had taken. The wind blew gently, carrying the fresh aroma of the surrounding nature. She caught the sound of water trickling in the distance and the chirping of birds that seemed to celebrate the new awakening within her. A mix of gratitude and anger surged within her—anger at herself for once refusing to feel, and gratitude for now being able to feel. Something within her bloomed and burned, freeing all the feelings that had been buried, which she had always considered weaknesses.
She felt something more than just the warmth of Fitran's body beside her; it was a bond that was growing stronger. With every new breath she took, Beelzebub realized that there was strength in vulnerability, in accepting all that she had considered the softer sides of her life. So much time had been wasted in emptiness, and now, it was time to move forward. To celebrate every pulse of feeling that flooded her.
Fitran looked at her, then took her hand. "Beelzebub. I love you, not because of your strength, or because of the child you carry. But because of your courage to choose to be weak—because only those who are weak can truly love."
Beelzebub lowered her gaze, her face slightly flushed. She was still not used to all this tenderness. Questions swirled in her mind, whether she deserved to receive such feelings. Two years ago, she was just an empty figure, burdened with a power she did not know. Now, she was here, in the soft light of dawn breaking through the gaps in the trees, awakening the side of herself that had long been buried in darkness.
But before she could answer, a distant explosion in the eastern part of the city made them both turn. The sound echoed, filling her with a familiar anxiety. It felt like a vibration signaling that everything would change—or perhaps, a new challenge they would have to face.
A flash of purple light split the sky, forming a spiral symbol they had never seen before. Beelzebub felt her heart race. On one hand, there was fear of what lay ahead; on the other hand, there was a strange urge to approach, to delve deeper into the meaning of that symbol. The wind suddenly whirled strangely—and dark whispers were heard again, this time not from Umbra-Khalid… but from something older. Something that called her name, perhaps from the darkness itself.
"She has been awakened," Beelzebub whispered, her body trembling. As the purple light reflected off her face, she felt a series of unexpected emotions. Was this a result of her transformation? That feeling, which she once considered a weakness, now created a conflict within her between curiosity and fear. She felt trapped between two worlds—one filled with nihilistic power, and the other birthing love and hope.
"Who?" Fitran asked quickly, gripping Beelzebub's hand tightly.
Beelzebub paused for a moment, her gaze drifting far into the darkness, as if recalling the layers of buried past. Within her, two sides battled—one that always felt comfortable in silence and emptiness, and the new side overflowing with strange and profound feelings.
"The figure that sleeps at the bottom of the old temple. The figure that rejects the concept of birth. Even Umbra-Khalid fears her." Beelzebub bit her lip and felt a small pang of fear in her heart. "The entity known as… Anathema Partus—The Rejection of All Forms of Birth."
Fitran frowned. "We didn't awaken her, did we?"
"No… but our ritual shook the roots of this city's reality. The Babelian altar not only contains the power of creation… but also the remnants of the curses of the ancient priests. Those who failed to give birth to the divine… sealed their offspring deep beneath this city."
Beelzebub felt the wetness of tears almost spilling at the corners of her eyes. She had never imagined that her feelings, which were like dew in the morning, would strive to rise from the darkness. She was a being created from emptiness, and now she was trapped in the complexity of feelings—a feeling that made her want to protect, love, and connect with something greater.
Fitran quickly grabbed Beelzebub's shoulders. "You have to leave this city. Now."
But Beelzebub refused. "I will not leave you. And I will not run from the consequences of this birth." Her voice was firm, but inside, she felt the fear and confusion sprouting. With every passing second, she struggled to understand how this empty figure could become someone brave enough to face her destiny.
Fitran was about to argue, but Beelzebub's gaze was now different. She was no longer the dark creature that had transformed into a human. She was now a mother—who would fight even the gods that rejected her child. Within her, a paradigm shift occurred; love, hope, and fear blended into one, emanating from her heart like the scent of flowers blooming in the middle of the forest.
"I will fight Anathema Partus," Beelzebub continued in a low voice, moistening her lips with the determination that grew strong within her soul. "Because I… am a woman. And this is my child."
Fitran looked at her for a long time. In silence, he nodded. "Then… let's face her together."
The wind began to swirl wildly again. In the distance, the ruins of the city began to tremble. Deep within, Beelzebub felt her blood surge, the warmth she had never felt before. It seemed that every heartbeat was a reminder that she was no longer a being of emptiness; she was part of the cycle of life itself.
Yet, doubt still loomed, like a long shadow at sunset. Was she strong enough to fight something that even Umbra-Khalid feared? Would it be enough to change her decision about the changes that were coming? In her heart, there was a struggle greater than just fighting an entity; it was a struggle to accept the most important part of herself.
As the wind whipped across her face, Beelzebub took a deep breath. She felt the aroma of wet earth and morning dew, fresh and promising. Every element around her seemed to sing songs of change, urging her to step forward, to embrace and accept the part of herself that had long been neglected.
"We can face her," Beelzebub whispered, confidence beginning to grow in her voice and movements. "I am no longer a being that shies away from battle."
As her steps began to lead her into the darkness that awaited, a feeling full—a love that was newly blossoming—urged her to confront her fate. And in Beelzebub's mind, a soft light began to shine, guiding her to reach for a figure that could wholeheartedly desire her presence.
And deep beneath the earth, eyes that had been closed for a hundred thousand years slowly opened. An ancient voice, hoarse and full of hatred, murmured:
"Who gave permission… for emptiness to love?"
The space around her trembled with invisible vibrations, as if the ground beneath Beelzebub's feet felt her transformation. Perhaps something oppressive and dark was rising, but in her heart, there was a growing doubt. She, who once merged with darkness, was now trapped in a struggle between the desire to return to the emptiness she knew and the new passion that began to blaze within her, to love, to feel.
Beelzebub closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shield herself from the exposure of this new reality. She felt a sediment of strange feelings, as if the silent soul was now jolted by the presence of her child. That warm feeling, although it brought uncertainty, demanded her to understand the meaning of affection. She approached her child again, feeling the unspoken connection between them—there was strength and weakness united in one bond.
Around her, the cold air began to change; the aroma of wet earth and the night wind blowing felt like a caress on her skin. Every breath reminded her of the dark past, but the existence of her child was like a small lantern illuminating her path. That vibrating feeling was not only present in the form of echoing voices but also in the glimmer of hope that pressed against the darkness within her.
"I… am not alone. Not anymore," Beelzebub whispered to herself, not wanting to be trapped in the shadows of hatred she had once traversed. While that voice continued to compete within her thoughts, reminding her of who she truly was, her body began to move unconsciously toward her child, as if longing for the embrace she had long rejected.
The fear of loss gnawed at her heart again, and she knew that the road ahead would not be easy. The guilt of a past filled with darkness crept in like deep roots, but in that journey, there was hope. There she had to choose: to accept love even if it brought the risk of loss, or to return to the emptiness that had accompanied her for so long.
"Emptiness cannot love, but… can I?" the voice within her whispered doubt again. The wind began to swirl wildly, and Beelzebub felt every gust of wind seemed to carry both promises and threats. For a moment, she felt relief and tension. She opened her eyes, staring into the darkness, as if challenging all the uncertainties that lay ahead.
She knew that to undergo this transformation, she had to confront all her fears and regrets; she could no longer let emptiness dictate her life. Just as she began to understand that, a faint light appeared at the end of the dark corridor, as if calling her to step forward. Beelzebub found herself drawn to that allure, step by step toward the awakening of a new life.
She felt a vibration of anticipation and tension, but beneath it lay a strange force—a purpose. As she stepped further into the light, Beelzebub began to confront the consequences of the actions hse was about to take. The ancient voice that resonated in her heart now sounded softer, as if blessing his journey of rediscovering her true self.