The sky, which previously reflected soft colors, now flashed with lines of black spirals. The ground beneath became flat. Tears on the battlefield slowly ceased to flow. In the distance, a gentle breeze could be heard, as if carrying messages from trapped souls.
Like the gentle wind sweeping the valley, silence filled the space. Dark clouds folded over each other, casting mysterious shadows that danced across the ground. The atmosphere felt heavy, as if time itself slowed down, inviting reflection in the gathering shadows.
And from an unnamed horizon, a voice was heard:
"I am not part of love, nor part of suffering. I am a reminder."
The air grew warmer. A golden light touched Elyra's spiral. The beauty that spread seemed to bring messages from another world, as if every second could be felt in an eternal imprint. The sweet mystery tingled the senses, creating waves of deep emotion, blending with every gasp for breath.
And from above the sky of emotions—Bahamut descended.
Bahamut, the Form of the Cosmic Arbiter.
His body resembled silver crystal formed from the debris of fate,
His wings unfurled like scripts of time,
His eyes did not emit light, but reflected every possibility that never came to be.
Each of his movements radiated a coolness, bringing peace amid unspoken complexity.
"Fitran Fate. Your time has come to remember why you were destined to be no one."
In the silence, an unseen whisper tempted the soul. Every word spoken sent out waves of resonance, shaking the closed walls of the heart. That voice slipped into the deepest recesses, stirring up hidden memories and nearly faded hopes.
Bahamut did not come to attack. He only opened his jaws… and from within, a small box emerged. The box trembled gently, giving off the scent of old wood, as if holding forgotten stories and long-buried hopes.
The color of the box was dim, resembling a shadow left in untouched dark rooms. The aroma of wet earth and worn texts seemed to merge in its presence, awakening a profound longing. The wind whispered, carrying messages from a forgotten past. Soft sighs could be heard, like whispers from a lost world, squirming within the suffocating silence.
Pandora's Box in its original form—not as a curse, but as the seal of the roots of self-meaning.
"You sealed your power, Fitran, not out of fear… but because you knew that when it was opened, you could no longer choose not to hurt."
Beelzebub held Elyra tightly, her body trembling. Her scent, warm and inviting, like a memory untouched by time, added tension to the heavy atmosphere.
"Fitran… you know that box… it doesn't just contain power. It contains the reason why the world keeps testing us."
As that voice echoed, the air grew heavier, as if each word was a summons to souls trapped in time. The gray sky cast its shadow over them, intensifying the moment, where fear and longing blended in silence. The magnetic force of those words awakened every sense, as if calling forth memories dissolving in shadow. Each second slowed, wondering what would be revealed if the box were truly opened.
The Contents of Pandora's Box: Fitran's Primordial Seal
Fitran stepped slowly forward. Bahamut bowed his head, saying nothing. Peace enveloped them, as if time itself had stopped, giving space for long-hidden secrets to draw near.
Pandora's Box opened slowly…
Moments before it opened fully, a dim light surrounded Fitran, pulling his memory to times when hope and sorrow faced off. His heart pounded, as if feeling the pulse of life from within the box, reminding him of the pain hidden behind every smile. A cold stream of energy brushed his cheek, reminding him that every choice had consequences to be faced. Around him, shadows trembled, seemingly responding to the resonance of his heart, filling the space with a presence unseen but inevitable.
And from within—not light, not energy, but the sound of a boy crying.
"Why can I never choose for myself?"
"Why must every love I give… become a weapon?"
The distance between question and answer gaped wide, breaking the emptiness that had long resided in Fitran's heart. Each question echoed through his mind and soul, highlighting the vulnerability of an existence so often overlooked. Fitran's body froze. Amid uncertainty, the air thickened into silence, only the sound of his heartbeat—an unspoken symphony of sadness and hope—remained.
Fragments of himself flashed by: Rinoa's tearful face as Fitran left her in the corridor of time. Beelzebub sitting in silence at the altar of Babel, asking if their love was real. Elyra in his arms, knowing nothing yet… already the center of the world, as if holding light amid darkness, waiting for the time when all that was lost could be found again.
"Because I chose to love, the world chose to make me its enemy."
Around him, faint light surged, creating dancing shadows on the walls of time. The scent of damp earth and rotting leaves filled the air, reminding him of love once felt, and pain that never faded. The sound of thunder, like a longing sigh from the past, whispered the desire to return to a lost embrace. As if that voice filled the empty space in his soul, just before the storm of unspoken emotions, painting beautiful memories in dark tones.
The Seal Opens: Fitran's Ancient Magic – "Corpus Memoratum"
"The Body That Remembers Every Choice Not Taken"
A new spiral formed in Fitran's body. Not Elyra's. Not Beelzebub's. But his own—one he had long locked away. A key sealed tight, rusted by time, as if nailed in place by a blend of fear and hope.
This spiral did not spin.
It pulsed backward.
And with every pulse, it returned fragments of power that Fitran once cast aside to feel human. In those pulses, a faint song hummed, as if from the depths of his soul; a melody that pierced the darkness and touched the forgotten side. The sweet aroma of memories of happiness filled the air, sparking deep nostalgia.
In every pulse, there was an echo from the past: lost laughter, held-back tears, and a thousand hopes never spoken. Light quivered, spreading an aura of nostalgia that made his soul tremble; shadows of memories piercing the darkness of the heart, showing the way to his true self. The soft touch of the night wind whispered hidden promises, inviting Fitran to step closer to the truth long awaited. This was the time to face the power long neglected—and embrace the pride of fragility that bound him to lost love.
The World of Eidolon Trembled, the spiral earth lifted, forming pillars of emotion. All the monsters that had previously been soothed—now felt something deeper than fear. The sound of whispering wind deepened the mood, bringing with it hope and doubt wrestling in their hearts. The trembling earth beneath their feet seemed to signal the beginning of a transformation, awakening buried power and courage.
At the edge of the horizon, dark and light colors mingled, as if the universe was mourning and celebrating at once. The wind whispered gently, bringing a nostalgic pang, while the soft light from the sky cast mysterious shadows across the land. The aroma of fresh earth after rain filled the air, awakening forgotten memories.
They could not explain it… but they knew: Fitran Fate had remembered who he was. For a moment, the flow of time seemed to slow, allowing him to sink into reflection on the long path he had traveled, full of twists and discoveries. A soft voice from not far away, like a gentle song from afar, heightened the tension among them, as if the universe itself awaited the next decision.
Bahamut only said:
"I did not come to help you. I came because the system of fate called me as a witness. Now you cannot turn back. Because the world has learned your power is not just from love… but from your refusal to stop loving."
Once again, silence fell, as if everyone present absorbed every spoken word, adding weight to every hope woven between them.
Fitran stood, his body glowing faintly. The light radiated softly, creating an aura that made him seem to transcend the boundaries of humanity. As he lifted his face, the gleam of that light depicted the struggle and triumph etched within his soul.
Around him, the air vibrated gently, seeping into every pore, bringing an air of mystery and pride. Every breath was full of meaning; as if space and time converged in one eternal moment, binding everything into soothing harmony.
Beelzebub gazed at him, eyes shimmering with tears.
"You are no longer just human…"
"I never wanted to be extraordinary," Fitran replied. "But I will never let them touch our child."
His voice, though calm, trembled with deep emotional power, as if locking hope and fear into a single, tight distance.
As those words were spoken, a distant rumble echoed, as if all of nature was rallying to his resolve, reflecting hidden hope and the uncertainty present as time went on. Amidst the rolling thunder, a gentle melody from the wind could be heard, as if the full voice whispered in a natural symphony strengthening his conviction.
The sky cracked… but not from disaster. From meaning grown too full. And Elyra, who had been silent before… lifted her small hand toward Fitran. Her hand trembled softly as if reaching for an essence greater than words, bringing hope and a sense of safety only given by a bond of deep love.
With gentle movement, Elyra's fingers seemed to paint the soft light from the sky, creating delicate shadows on her hopeful face. The trickle of water in the distance filled the air, flowing in harmony with her quickening heartbeat. Every second flowed slowly, as if time was enchanted in this precious moment. In the silence, the soft scent of spices drifted, as if the wind whispered nature's secrets to Elyra.
And the entire spiral world bowed.
As if influenced by Elyra's presence, everything around them began to tremble with unseen energy, intensifying the magical atmosphere. The soft breeze carried the scent of night-blooming flowers, wrapping them in warmth that pierced the soul. Among the gentle wind, the soft rumble of the forest echoed, as if nature's spirits were celebrating this moment. In that stillness, even the stars seemed to whisper, witnessing a journey full of hope.