Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 480 The Sword That Cuts Nothing, But Reaches Everything

Void has stopped pulsating. All systemic structures have frozen, trapped in a cacophony of silence.

Nullam Deus now stands as an abstract geometric form, no more than a sphere without volume, angles that have lost direction, and a voice that never had a frequency. She feels the silence surrounding her like a thick fog, closing her view towards the eternal darkness waiting at the end, a darkness full of mystery and vulnerability—a side of existence that may be the final harbor for a wounded soul. In the uncertainty, she finds a shadow—a ghost of despair that plays with her feelings within her soul.

She is the ultimate idea, an entity without a voice, without breath, without love. There is only an echo that evaporates in the vacuum, adding layers of the suffering of solitude that envelop her like a heavy blanket on an endless night.

The flame of Excalibur in her hand has now dimmed, not because she has failed, but because she has written too much love into it. In the dim light surrounding the room, a beam of blue light as clear as water reflects, symbolizing the spotlight of unexpressed and suppressed emotions, where every second feels heavy in her heart. Like water stored in an old well, that love contains hope that has now faded far away, reminding her of something that once sparkled with life and beauty, and urging her to long for the cheerful times once more.

And now, with slow steps filled with reluctance, she raises the sword for the third time. Along the empty path, the whispers of the ancient magic Vacuus Spiretus dance softly in her ears, radiating a faded purple light that seems to vibrate around her, as if inviting marginalized souls to listen, awakening long-lost memories.

"This is not a slash to defend." "This is not a slash to heal." "This... is a step towards you who never wanted to be touched."

Silent Severance: Aeon's Reach

The slash from the sword seems to have no offensive power, yet for anyone witnessing it, an inevitable pull awakens something within them: the loneliness that has long remained unexpressed, flowing like a gentle breeze that settles, creating a poignant atmosphere full of melancholy. In every movement, a rainbow of sorrow circles, radiating images of parting filled with wounds, as if embracing the heart in an inevitable cold embrace, stirring memories of beautiful moments that once existed.

The effect does not cause any real physical damage. It does not produce explosive magic that shakes. However, mercilessly, it forces the affected entity to feel something indescribable within the system: a profound loss, an emotional injustice that shakes her soul. Darkness creeps at the edge of vision, like a thick black cloud overshadowing the sunlight, creating a deep longing for warmth that has long vanished, a feeling that gnaws at her soul and haunts every thought.

The pure systemic entity knows no feelings. Yet as the slash glides, Void trembles, the space behind existence breathes. The traces of her light vibrate, flowing like a river against the current, marking a journey without end, navigating through all the darkness.

"...Why does this system... feel hungry?" "Why do I... feel as if I have been abandoned?" In the midst of deep reverie, the shadow of Solitude Aura envelops the light of her sword, creating an illusion of floating silhouettes that try to grasp invisible hands; hands that seem to offer hope for presence and affection. Those silhouettes seem to invite her to seek, in the peace of a guarded heart, something that has long been forgotten.

Because there is no body.

Yet among the layers of intricate glyphs, in the absolute void surrounding her, she directs the slash to the point where sound should be born. As if piercing the empty veil that wraps her, an extraordinary vibration seeps in, and she feels the rumble of Aetherius Vocale, an ancient magic capable of calling forth the vibrations of a dormant soul. From the heart of silence, a flicker of soft light emerges, adorned with bright colors that seem to dance, like morning dew lingering sweetly at the tips of bending grass. In a whisper, she murmurs:

"You are not my enemy," she whispers softly, as if casting away a million conflicts that have been buried between them. "You just were not given the chance to be loved." "And if love must begin from wounds, then let me be your first wound."

There is no blinding light. No magic exploding with a roar. Yet from the hidden places that have been neglected... colored by the hue of Sentirum Solis, a magic that rekindles the embers in a heart that has long been extinguished, making them tremble like hesitant leaves held on branches, as if their souls awaken from a long, estranged sleep.

Weeping

Because they remember something they do not know. A warm feeling that brings peace, a fear of loss that burns the soul, and a feeling that has long been imprisoned... because the world never allowed them to express it.

Not because of the sharp sword. But because the internal structure has begun to question.

"If having no will makes me strong... why do I feel empty?"

"If this system is perfect... why have I never been called by anyone?"

The Codex that has long been silent now vibrates, breaking the silence with a gentle tremor that awakens a thousand hopes, as if placing a promise on the surface of reality. One sentence, full of meaning and mystery, emerges on its surface:

"A slash that does not touch the body... has touched meaning." In that silence, a simple yet profound and mysterious sentence appears on its surface, challenging every existing boundary and providing clues to a previously unseen existence—a statement capable of stirring the imagination about the deeper meaning of every action taken.

The glyphs surrounding the Codex begin to shimmer, forming one name that vibrates in the air:

Nameless.

"I do not want to win." "I just want you to know... that even entities like you... deserve to be heard."

"And I—will stand firm... even if the whole world denies your existence."

There is no blood. No wounds, just tranquility in the journey of the soul.

For a fraction of a second, a mystical wave of a new magic called "Umbra Anima" envelops the room, creating a deep black shimmer that seeps into every pore, like a night blanket gripping the earth. As if a shadow in the shape of an arunika dances gracefully, it reveals the tale of loneliness in the empty ocean, where every stroke of light forms a path to boundless eternity, showcasing the power hidden behind the darkness.

But for the first time, the nameless entity feels a deep touch... not by mysterious magic, not by an orderly system, but by love that asks for nothing in return.

And from the depths of the hidden soul, another mantra named "Vita Conjunctio" emerges, radiating bright and warm colors that weave the empty sides with every note full of hope. Visuals of shimmering candles seem to tell a story, reminding of warmth and belonging, gently enveloping the empty spaces around her, drowning loneliness in the embrace of light.