As soon as Fitran's foot touched the dimensions of Umbra-Khalid, the world he knew vanished. Darkness gradually enveloped the beautiful panorama of his past, as if every memory was being sucked into a terrifying void.
There were no colors.
There were no shapes.
No up or down. Only emptiness, vibrating with a profound silence, as if time itself hesitated to take another step. The walls of darkness seemed to whisper, responding to the doubts in his soul, radiating an aura of uncertainty that made each breath feel heavy.
All that existed was a hollow vibration that refused to become sound. In that silence, Fitran could feel the buzzing heartbeat calling forth the hidden parts of his soul. It was as if that sound united all the possibilities he had neglected, sweeping him into the depths of his being, where each option created striking memories in the form of shadows.
He stood in the midst of the void,
yet every movement unveiled fragments of himself—
not as memories, but rather as the possibilities he had never chosen. A faint whisper brushed against his ears, as if the world were reminding him of the potentials that had been overlooked. With each blink, images of a life that could have been floated before him, seemingly begging to be revived, dancing in the empty space around him.
Around Fitran, "versions" of himself began to emerge: whispers of rumor stirred the air, revealing trembling silhouettes that merged with the darkness and mystery enveloping everything. Each silhouette seemed to tell a story, unveiling suppressed hopes and sorrows, creating an inaudible symphony that could only be felt by a sensitive soul.
Fitran Who Gave Up to Become the Emperor of the Void—from one who once fought against fate, he now chose to wield power, eternally trapped in solitude. That emptiness felt like an invisible web, binding him to this place, urging him to reflect on his lost choices, while the cold wind from the spellbinding darkness gently yet hauntingly caressed his face.
Fitran Who Chose to Kill Beelzebub for the World—a heart-wrenching decision made in order to save many souls, where she represented everything he despised.
In the thick darkness, whispers of the wind swirled around, as if recounting a tragedy that could never be erased. Each hiss carried the scent of sorrow and regret, intertwined with the shadows of choices made.
Fitran who Never Loved Anyone—a decision to build walls, warding off the painful love, even as longing gnawed at his soul.
Amidst the unseen shadows, a faint glimmer of light emerged, depicting a legacy of feelings tightly kept. With every breath, he felt the weight of unexpressed love, binding him to a dimension of time that seemed endless.
Fitran who Erased Elyra Before She Was Born—a drastic act that shook the roots of his heart, allowing that shadow to envelop a future that would never materialize.
The space around him trembled, creating a profound resonance connecting all beings in an intimidating silence. The sound of the erased future echoed softly, singing a melody that cut through the depths of his soul.
"Is this all… me?"
"No," whispered a voice from within Umbra-Khalid. The voice rose sharply, resonating in the boundless space.
"This is all you that you never allowed to speak."
Fitran touched one version of himself: Fitran who Rejected Love.
Suddenly, he was absorbed into the scenario:
The world was perfect.
There was no Beelzebub.
There was no Elyra.
Fitran lived forever… yet never felt anything.
Beyond the confines of this reality, delicate waves of energy swirled, as if every cell in his body responded from a buried depth, presenting a resonance that brought forth a mysterious scent from another dimension.
"You have never been destroyed…"
"But you have also… never lived."
He pulled himself out of that scenario—gasping, his body trembling.
With each breath, he felt the cold, heavy air, like the gaze of a thousand unseen eyes watching him with curiosity. Within the depths of his consciousness, vague shadows flickered. He could sense an ancient presence—a mystery enveloping Umbra-Khalid. Every whisper that slithered through filled the darkness with layers of time and dimension, evoking a sense of an existence long buried.
As though the voices came from afar, inviting Fitran to listen to the secrets hidden within the labyrinth of darkness. The voices flowed gently, calling the imprisoned souls to reach for freedom from the shackles of the past and explore the endless currents of possibility.
"I am not evil. I am the part of you that has never been acknowledged.
But when the world rejects possibility…
I come to life.
And now…
I wonder if I can live with you."
Fitran fell silent. He understood one thing: Umbra-Khalid was not a threat. She was a consequence. A consequence of every decision that had no space to be spoken. In the stillness, a deep awareness filled the space, allowing for reflection. There, between reality and illusion, he found his fragmented self, as if each part of him was urging to be reunited in a greater harmony.
Seemingly awakening thousands of memories trapped in the labyrinth of time, Umbra-Khalid was a reflection of a journey he had never taken. Dark corridors flickered in Fitran's mind, reminding him of lost opportunities, of desires left unfulfilled. He felt the resonance of duality within him, a tense peace between what he desired and what was reality: could this neglected soul find companionship in the search for a greater truth? The sky above him was overcast, as though lightning was waiting to ignite all the forgotten principles, bringing him into layers of overlapping dimensions, where every choice vibrated in the non-linear rhythm of time.
For the first time since the rise of the Corpus Memoratum, Fitran's body exhibited a personal reaction. Amidst the suffocating silence, a sense of awkwardness and despair enveloped his every move. It was as if every fiber of his being resonated, attempting to unite two inseparable worlds: the old and the new. Around him, soft shadows danced at the edge of his vision, flowing like water, touching hidden memories and stirring the emptiness within. Not as a cosmic being. Not as a guardian. But as a man longing for the version of himself that had once been rejected.
With each heartbeat, he felt as if a faint voice was softly resonating within his mind, reminding him of the desolate forest and the mysteries hidden within it, where memories are trapped and time seems to stand still. A violet light penetrated the dark crevices, illuminating the paths he had once walked, awakening questions long buried beneath the embrace of confusion.
He opened his hands—and exclaimed:
"If you are a part of me…
then do not stand outside.
Come inside—and let us remember together."
Umbra-Khalid began to encircle Fitran's body in the form of unfinished phrases, such as:
"I will save—"
"If you choose me—"
"But what if—"
All those sentences gradually merged into Fitran's blood.
Within this dimension, the entire world seemed to be tinted with a faint gray hue, adding depth to an atmosphere thick with strangeness. Each word flowing felt as if it vibrated, inviting a long echo that awakened memories of the past, and in the stillness, a song emerged as if rising from the depths of the soul.
With every word, a mystical energy appeared to seep through, channeling uncertainty and peace alike, creating a bridge between turmoil and hope. A soft, invisible light danced around them, seemingly responding to the deep sadness and longing present.
Amidst the dance of light, a mysterious shadow flickered in and out, hinting at the existence of unseen entities, reflecting a sensation that they were not merely standing at the edge of a dimension, but also at the interface of reality and dreams.
Not to be decided.
Not to be won.
But to be loved.
This spiral does not arise from magic, emotions, or hopes.
The Fourth Spiral is:
The Spiral of Accepted Possibilities
The Spiral of Self-Forgiveness
The Spiral of Incomplete Language Given Space
Spiralis Remissa.
Each spiral forms layered alignments, akin to miracles that are invisible yet felt, akin to a choir whispering wisdom alongside vulnerability. Outside, Beelzebub and Elyra wait. The sky of Philistines begins to crack under the pressure from beyond the dimension.
Yet suddenly, everything falls silent.
The sound of footsteps emerges, a soft clinking that carries an air of mystery, like the distant whisper of the wind, permeating every corner of their hearts.
Fitran emerges from the crack of Umbra-Khalid.
Surrounding him, darkness sings, as if calling his name in soft whispers. A faint light traverses the layers of reality around him, making it seem as if he walks between shadows and light, embracing a reality that is not entirely accessible to the mind. His eyes remain cosmic.
However, his face— for the first time—is filled with a sense of peace.
As if hearing the call of a soul hidden within darkness, Fitran senses the presence of an unexpected entity; ancient voices whispering in his ear, guiding the journey of the soul into the forgotten corridors of time. The atmosphere around him vibrates, like soft notes from an instrument played by invisible hands, deepening the mystery that envelops this dimension.
"I didn't conquer it.
I… embraced it."
Within that declaration lies a magical power capable of breaking the shackles of time. Beneath his chest, a pulse beats slowly:
The Fourth Spiral.
Each thrum carries a flowing vibration of energy, penetrating the contours of his soul and reminding him of the endless battles he has just endured. In this newfound tranquility, he realizes that the fragments of his lost self have now reunited, creating a silent melody only understood by those standing on the threshold between dimensions. Amidst these ripples of energy, flashes of emptiness flicker, intertwined with the hope birthed from Fitran's new awareness.
The world remains unaware that the rejected will has just acquired a name.
For the first time, someone chose not to reject himself.
Both forces of darkness and light collaborate in an unprecedented harmony—a symphony of existence that embraces the skies of this dimension, deepening the mystical aura surrounding Fitran, as if the entire universe supports his journey of discovery.
The night was shrouded in mystery as the moonlight reflected shadows dancing around them. Among these dim glimmers, shifting silhouettes occasionally appeared, as if hinting at an unseen presence, capturing the moment at the threshold between reality and illusion. The energy from Umbra-Khalid merged with Fitran's soul, as if beckoning every fragment of memory stored in the depths of his being.
In Beelzebub's embrace, Fitran whispered words that only he could hear: In the distance, the soft voice of the universe echoed, piercing through dimensions with a message that could only be understood by those prepared to face the darkness.
Various images flashed through his mind, revealing faces he once deemed enemies. Now, all thoughts faded into the dark, wrapped in a newfound understanding. The shadows seemed to dance in harmony with the flowing currents of time, retracing bitter and sweet memories. No longer was there hatred; only hope began to blossom in a heart caught between light and dark.
"Forgive me, the self I once hated."
"From this day forward... you will also live."