Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 454 Sheena’s Shadow That Cannot Be Saved

The next room had no door.

But Fitran's steps seemed to know where to go. Between each step, a longing brushed against his skin, as if the night wind carried the scent of lingering memories, gently caressing his thoughts.

Each of his steps brought forth sounds... the sound of a gown brushing the floor, the sound of gold falling, the sound of someone he once called by her full name:

Sheena Valtheris Elyndra.

The walls of the world shifted, and suddenly Fitran found himself standing on the high balcony of the palace. The night of his wedding to Sheena. [Wedding Night]

A gentle breeze blew, while the candlelight from the party had not yet dimmed, and Sheena sat alone, gazing at the empty sky with a deep look, as if trying to find answers among the stars.

She said nothing. Waves of longing and sorrow filled the atmosphere, creating an empty space between them, as if the sky itself felt the sadness that weighed on Fitran's heart.

"Sheena," Fitran's voice echoed—but his body did not move. In his heart, he felt an unspoken heaviness, like the ocean crashing mercilessly, bringing him back to memories he wished to forget.

Sheena turned.

Her eyes were soft... but distant. A deep sadness intertwined in her gaze, like a star whose twinkle was faint—yes, like hope lost in the folds of time.

"You love me, don't you?" she said softly. [Memory 1]

Fitran felt his heart tremble, trapped between the present and the past. [Time Transition] Could he repeat the words he had buried? he wondered in his heart, but every second felt like shards of glass cutting, leaving deep marks in his mind and a silence enveloping him.

"Why can't I speak?" he thought. "What is holding me back?" A sense of helplessness suffocated him, as if there were invisible shackles preventing him from touching the profound truth.

Fitran in that memory did not answer. He only held her hand, silent.

"I should have said it..." His own voice was barely audible. Cracks of despair evaporated from every unspoken word, echoing in the emptiness of the night.

"She is waiting for me. But I—"

For a moment he hesitated. "Why do I always hold back?" That question floated like a bird trapped in the web of time, unable to fly free.

"This is the last chance," he whispered to himself, even though his heart rebelled. Within his soul, a battle between hope and fear surged, unseen yet felt so real.

And now, Fitran who stood witnessing it whispered: [Reflection of the Present]

Yet, in that silence, there was a coldness creeping between them, like morning mist enveloping the forest, and Fitran's face was filled with doubt, as if his heart struggled against the storm of feelings flooding the empty space between them, deepening the sorrow.

"What do you want from me, Fitran?"

"I want... I want to be better. For you."

And now, in the present, Fitran who stood witnessing it whispered: His face reflected a deep longing, as if he were a shadow of the past that would not fade.

"Why didn't I say it back then...?"

"Maybe, if I had the courage..." he thought in his heart, regret creeping slowly. The sound of the wind seemed to answer him, adding to the pain in his soul, illustrating how that opportunity was like a gentle breath that had already passed.

The image of Sheena smiling—but not to forgive. In her smile, there was a deep sorrow, as if she were morning dew trapped in fog, unable to fully reveal herself.

Rather, to let herself be remembered as someone who was never given certainty.

Seconds passed, the sky above cracked. The memory vanished, like a painting erased by the rain. The space felt empty, as if the atmosphere around them froze in the sadness enveloping both their hearts.

The space changed. The walls, once silent witnesses, trembled as if feeling the pounding heart that was under pressure. The history books laid out innocently also listened, silent in the noise of their inner turmoil.

After a moment, now Sheena knelt in the Elysvarre courtroom. Darkness covered her face, as if the light of hope hid from her sight.

The entire Caereth family—her mother's family—was slaughtered due to the pactum's mistake. Shadows of the past attacked her mind, overshadowing every remaining hope.

Sheena cried... alone. Her tears fell like unexpected rain, soaking the ground of wounds and grief. In the silence, the pain pierced her soul, making her stronger even though she appeared fragile.

Meanwhile, Fitran stood at the threshold.

He wanted to enter, but the nobles were waiting for a sign of strength from him. Among them, there was the aroma of blooming flowers, yet contrasted by the sorrow enveloping his heart.

"Enter... or stay here?" he thought. "But they need me. Am I strong enough? Worthy enough?"

So he chose... not to enter. The peace in his decision felt like the roar of the ocean, challenging his courage to step forward.

"I'm too afraid to look weak," Fitran said to himself, his voice muffled by the tension that gripped his heart. "But... what if this is wrong? Why didn't I say what I should have said? Why did I let all this happen?"

Time turned, bringing memories forward. In his mind, the shadows of past events danced, etching emotional scars that time could not erase. The aroma of fear now filled his chest, resembling smoke rising from a fire that was nearly extinguished. He could feel every heartbeat, calling for a determination that was nearly lost among the doubts that invaded his heart.

The image of Sheena did not turn.

She only said:

"A love that fears to appear weak... is a love that slowly kills." Her voice flowed like water between stones, guiding, yet full of a rumble that held back. Her words soared in the air like an owl flying in the dark night, carrying a message about the fears that lay hidden. Fitran felt that statement pierce his soul, creating fragments of reflection that made him feel increasingly alienated from himself.

"I don't want to be like that," Fitran murmured to himself. "But if I go in and she sees me, what will she think? I can't cry... not now."

And at that moment, the room collapsed, as if splitting time into two sides. Fine dust fell from the ceiling, as if the world around him could no longer remember the faces that once smiled. The roar of the lost era echoed in his ears, as if reminding him to choose wisely, while the shadows of worry continuously rushed through his mind.

The sky changed, a dark blue hue enveloping.

This time, time had collapsed, bringing Fitran to a place full of haunts. Every corner of the room held untold stories, as if its walls were silent witnesses to the pain he tried to hide. "This is all my fault," he thought. "But no one can see me—not if I stay here. I have to do something. Face the reality."

At the altar of the Void, Sheena was trapped in an unstoppable pull of time. Time seemed to fold her, repeating phrases she could never express. She held her belly—Jeanne and Joanna were still unborn, and the shadow of hope crossed Fitran's mind. In the darkness, he imagined the face of his daughter, as if that image could change everything. Fitran shouted mantra after mantra. But nothing worked, only the echo of his voice touching the dark sky, carrying hope that dwindled like morning dew in the face of sunlight.

He screamed, his voice full of helplessness. "Why?" he thought. "Why am I always late? I should be able to do this. I... I don't want to lose her." He tried to cut through time.

Fitran's hand reached out, as if wanting to reclaim the beautiful moments that had passed, pressing against the wind that carried the sorrow further away from him. Every heartbeat felt like a time belt binding him, not giving him a chance to breathe. But Sheena continued to disappear, walking a path further from his sight. "I am not strong enough. Is all this my fault?"

"You cannot save me," said a voice from afar, as if crossing the boundary between reality and hope.

That voice whispered doubts and regrets that bound his heart in a web of sorrow. "Not because you are weak. But because you always come after everything has happened." Those words tore at his heart. "Am I not enough? Strong enough to fight this fate?" he asked himself, in deepening despair. His gaze pierced through the shadows, searching for answers among the clamor of the past echoing in his mind.

The final road stretched out.

On the left and right, thousands of versions of Sheena stood still, marking moments in his life. The first memory: when they smiled together, a place where their laughter echoed, feeling warm and bright. "It was so easy back then," he thought. "Why is it so hard now?" His heartbeat became the background melody of sadness that danced, singing a tune that only he could hear.

Every smile displayed on those faces seemed to remind him of the beauty that was slowly fading, bound in the dimming light.

The second memory: when they argued, their voices filling the air, carving a deeper understanding. Fitran remembered how passionate he was then, as if the world belonged to them. "Do you remember, Sheena? What happened to that spirit?" Every exchange felt like lightning in a calm sky, tearing through the silence with unexpected sparks of enthusiasm. He could feel that energy, vibrating between them like a current igniting every cell in his body, yet now only bitter memories remained.

The third memory: when he kissed Sheena's soft forehead, full of affection, which left a mark in his heart, reminding him of warmth he would never forget, etched in his memory. As if time stopped then, enveloping them in fresh happy moments, allowing them to forget the world full of challenges for a moment. "Doesn't she know how much I love her? What can I do to stop all this?"

Anxiety crept into his heart, like a shadowy cloud hanging on the horizon, covering the warm sunlight. Every second felt long, like the sudden stop of the wind, leaving silence to speak deeper.

The fourth memory: when they fought together, adrenaline flowing and their courage merging. It felt as if nothing could stop them, their dreams shining before their eyes. Their strength came not only from physical bravery but also from the trust built along the journey, an invisible web binding their souls.

Yet, why did it feel so heavy now? Images of beautiful memories flickered in his mind, like a painting worn by time, difficult to face yet still vividly remembered.

Is this true?

He felt his heartbeat as if it outpaced time, creating a mixed song of hope and doubt, as if time challenged all his decisions so far, waiting for an answer from within his soul.

And Fitran knew:

If he stepped past them, he would have to let go of everything. There was a bitter feeling that choked in his chest, as if every step he would take would crush the memories etched in his soul.

Not because he didn't love Sheena.

But because love could not bring back the past.

As Fitran stood at the edge of the road, the scent of freshly fallen rain filled the air, providing a cool sensation that contrasted with the panic inside his heart. Every drop that fell seemed to carry a drop of hope that remained, yet also reminded him of all the memories trapped in darkness. He should have fought harder.

He should not have given up.

But if this continues, will I only hurt her?

He looked down, seeing his distorted reflection in the puddle, a reflection that felt like his own feelings.

"Sheena... forgive me."

And he stepped forward, ignoring the tremors of the ground beneath his feet, which seemed to cry along with his heart.

Each step destroyed one Sheena, memories that were slowly erased. Yet each step also strengthened one feeling within him:

That love... does not always save.

In every footprint, the voice from the past echoed, calling him back into Sheena's embrace, her soft voice like the wind whispering. Why must it be like this?

Am I truly deserving of suffering?

Why not me who leaves?

That not all sacrifices end suffering.

I must accept this, even though my heart still refuses.

The memories of her bind me.

But next time, I hope I can be brave.

If not for me, at least for her.

Ultimately, all of this is about choice, isn't it?

Painful, but someone must go.

This struggle is not over.

As if Sheena's shadow passed by, the scent of lilac she always wore showered his memory—an aroma that once brought happiness, now only leaving sorrow. Just an image, but it felt as if the whole world turned upside down when trying to remember her.

That sometimes, the only thing love can do... is let someone go.

Moments after that decision, at the end of the road, a soft voice was heard. Not a memory.

But Sheena... the last one. I must let her go, right? But how? She is everything. Why does it feel like I am betraying her?

In the suffocating silence of the night, as if the stars were also looking at him with eyes full of sorrow, Fitran felt the universe conspiring against him—silently, he prayed that billions of seconds could stop time for a moment to give a chance, to give hope.

"Thank you... for finally acknowledging that you have failed."

In the silence, "Because only from that failure... do I know that your love is real." That's me, isn't it? The one who always fails. With all the lost hopes. What if this is the biggest mistake of my life?

Fitran cried.

Not because he regretted it. But because he finally stopped denying. I cannot keep running from reality. There must be a way to accept all this. But... what does it feel like when all this ends? I never imagined it.

As the tears flowed, he felt as if every drop carried a story—a story of unspoken love, buried hopes, and unfulfilled desires. Every feeling was trapped, as if stuck in the shackles of time, haunting every corner of his heart.

For a moment, the beautiful memories flashed back, Sheena who could not be saved...

not lost.

She remained—within the wounds, within the tears, within the acknowledgment. Is there a way to ease this pain? Is this what they call sacrifice? Or just negligence? Why does all this feel so painful?

And only after letting her go, Fitran could take the final step in the labyrinth of his life: Should I move on? With every step, trials haunted him, making it feel as if he walked on broken glass. Can all this be forgiven? Or perhaps... perhaps I must make peace with myself, embrace the torn parts, the incomplete ones. Stop blaming myself. Hold this pain as part of me, a neglected patch of garden within my heart.

The sentence that cancels the world.