Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 600 - 599.2 Special : Elyra: The Spiral Without a Name

On the night when the sky of the Philistines cracked with an unknown sound, a child was born from the collision of two wills that had once refused to love each other. She was not just a baby—she was the greatest question ever thrown at the world's fate.

Her name is Elyra.

Her body is small, her skin pale as if she had just been carved from light that refused to call itself bright. Her hair is thin and shiny like silver thread, and her eyes... ah, her eyes are the spiral itself—a vortex without a center that pulses in rhythm with the vibrations of the world.

Behind Elyra's eternal gaze lies a secret deeper than the darkness of the night. When her eyes pierce through space and time, there are whispers that dance softly, as if she could hear every heartbeat, including the hearts of her parents, Fitran and Beelzebub. Each beat is not just a sound—but a song of longing, anxiety, and unspoken hope.

From Elyra's first breath, reality changed. Not because she cried louder than other babies, but because spirals were born from every breath she took. In the air, on the stone altar floor, even in the dreams of Beelzebub and Fitran, new spirals formed. They had no center; they did not point outward or inward. They simply "were"—and in their existence, the world began to ask:

When Elyra let out her first sound, Fitran felt his soul dissolve in a sea of uncertainty. Were these spirals a sign that they had strayed from the path they should have taken? Or were the spirals a reminder of the love they had rejected? On the other hand, Beelzebub could only gaze at her daughter with fear and wonder, questioning whether she would be able to protect such a special being from a world that might oppose her.

"How do you love something that cannot yet be named?"

The ritual at the ancient altar was complete. Candles burned the air with a blue hue, and the sound of ancient roots vibrated softly beneath the city of the Philistines. Fitran embraced Beelzebub, who cried in silence, her body stretching between pain and wonder. And in those moments, Elyra was born into the world—not through the sound of crying, but through the spirals that blossomed from her chest.

Under the flickering candlelight, Elyra's face revealed vulnerability, as if her small soul was now woven into the fabric of an unexpected time. In her gaze, there was an indescribable peace, inviting gentle touches from her parents. They felt that every fallen strand of hair was a promise that they would protect this newly born anomaly.

The night's breath felt deeper, as if the universe was celebrating this moment. Fitran felt his stomach tremble inside, intertwined between worry and hope, while Beelzebub gazed at Elyra with eyes reflecting support and unconditional love. "She will make everything different," her heart whispered.

Beelzebub looked at her daughter. No words were sacred enough, no prayer long enough. Only a hug too afraid of loss, and tears that did not know why they had to fall.

"If only words could explain your beauty," Beelzebub whispered, as if speaking directly to her soul, "what would we say about this extraordinary anomaly?" Beelzebub's tears flowed as if wanting to wash the world of all complexities that blinded, hoping that Elyra could absorb the wonder in every drop.

Fitran felt the world stop, as if fate held its own breath.

In the profound silence, he felt connected to the flow of time. "Elyra," he said hopefully, "within you lies the power to change everything we know." Elyra's eyes seemed to respond, digging into something older than time, illuminating all that awaited her.

From the very first second, Elyra became the center of the anomaly. Every movement of her fingers formed spiral patterns in the air, and anyone who gazed into her eyes—even soulless beings—would feel a "tremor" in their hearts.

In that uncertainty, Elyra felt the warm embrace of her father, Fitran. Every time she felt his cold hands, it was as if the spirals within her vibrated stronger, as if connected to an ancient power hidden behind the lines of time. "You will always be precious, my dear," he whispered softly, but like an empty echo lost between dimensions.

Beelzebub saw her and knew:

"She is not human. She is not a demon. She is the question written by the world on a night that forgot to dream."

Beside her, Fitran felt his heart tremble. Every time Elyra blinked, his world seemed to race toward uncertainty, but there was a calmness that offered hope. "Elyra, every spiral is an opportunity," Fitran said, trying to reassure, though shadows of anxiety were visible on his face.

Elyra did not cry like an ordinary baby. She only gazed, her eyes moving in a tranquil spiral. When Fitran's hand touched her forehead, the world trembled slightly, and in the distance, the guardians of the spirals knew that something had been born... something that could not be governed by the old laws.

The spirals within Elyra could not be controlled—even by Fitran and Beelzebub. The spirals rejected the center, rejected patterns, rejected naming. Sometimes the spirals formed light that vibrated the roots of the world, sometimes they split space and time, creating sparks of meaning beyond logic.

In her mind, Elyra often heard the soft voice of her forgotten mother. That voice painted dreams, helping her understand that every spiral could also create beauty. "You are the light that never goes out," her mother said in her memory, igniting a burning spirit within her soul.

No mantra could bind Elyra's spirals. No glyph could record their vibrations. She is the sixth spiral—the spiral that no one has ever predicted.

Yet, behind that beauty lies a heavy burden. Elyra feels like a bridge between two worlds, between hope and doubt. Every night, when the moon shines, she asks the stars: "Will I be a savior or a disruptor?" And each time, her spirals provide a deep answer, as if reminding her to keep searching for meaning in the noise of the world.

Every spiral born from her changes something in the world. Sometimes small—a stone becomes light, the air forms rain, time moves slowly. Sometimes large—reality itself feels like it will break. Yet, in the core of this wonder, Elyra feels alone, trapped in a vast palette of emotions. In Beelzebub's messy embrace, she wonders if she can be a bridge between two worlds—the dreamed world and the real world. There are moments when her spirals whisper secrets, depicting her hopes to unite with her parents without bringing destruction.

Fitran and Beelzebub soon understood: This world is too fragile to accept Elyra as she is. Therefore, they made a bitter decision: to seal Elyra. Every second felt as heavy as thousands of years as they contemplated that step. In Elyra's heart, the faces of her parents flashed—two poles that brought her to life, yet also threatened to destroy everything around her. In their gaze, she saw pain, confusion, and buried hope.

However, before the sealing, Elyra remained alive in dreams, in gentle touches, in the silence of Concon's space and Beelzebub's ninth womb. In her spirit, there was confusion as to why she had to be cast aside. "Shouldn't love protect?" Elyra asked in her heart, her spirals seemingly responding with a gentle vibration. Every night, as darkness enveloped, she felt a soft voice, "We love you, Elyra, even though we are forced to carry this burden."

Elyra never spoke. She only gazed, and the spirals continued to spin, writing a language that no one could read. In her gaze, there was a deep feeling—a reflection of her parents' love and sorrow. In the spirals dancing around her, there was hope that love would find a way, even amidst the shadows of emptiness. Every movement is an ode, defying the shackles of fate that challenge her existence.

Elyra is the primordial spiral, born from two poles: Beelzebub's wounded love and Fitran's will to love without destroying. In an unexpected form, Elyra unites both, an anomaly that creates so much beauty in fragility. She is a blend of light and shadows, creating a symphony of souls between her parents. Like a moving spiral, she reflects an uncertain journey, mirroring the tension between love and emptiness.

Every spiral born from her body is an anomaly—she has no center or stable pattern. Her presence explores the core of uncertainty, drawing the attention of entities that may feel the magnetism of the chaos she radiates. In the complexity of her existence, the guardians of the world feel an unexplainable call—whether it is a silence too loud or a hope buried in every vibration created.

Supernatural beings, guardians of the world, even the magic systems of Atlantis and the gods detect Elyra's anomaly. They all feel a "tremor" in reality. Within that vibration lies a message—a cry from the depths of a soul longing for home. All their searches seem futile as Elyra stands at the threshold between heritage and emptiness. Every entity that witnesses her cannot ignore her presence, yet feels burdened by the potential destruction she brings.

Elyra cannot speak. All her communication is only through gazes, spirals, and strange changes around her. In silence, there are lessons throughout history. She is a bridge between fate and desire, where every movement of her spiral is a lyric written in the existential sky. If only she could express her heart, perhaps she would say, "My love does not require words, only a touch, a dream, a hope that continues to spin."

Sealing became the last resort: Elyra was hidden in Beelzebub's ninth womb, then moved to the spiral nest of Concon, to protect the world and herself.

In the uncertainty surrounding her world, Elyra felt a gentle touch of curious hope. Would she return to the surface, breaking through the tyranny of darkness that enveloped her? Every spiral turn gave glimpses of love and fear filling her mind. Amidst the noise of nature, a soft whisper emerged, as if the Mother promised a journey back.

Elyra's spirals provoke the emergence of new entities (Umbra-Khalid, Neph-Null, Mizuhoto, even future possibilities like Virelya), and threaten to open paths to the sixth and seventh spirals.

Fitran often found himself pondering, gazing at the spirals around him and imagining Elyra's form that he could now only dream of. He remembered how his daughter always changed the course of time with her mysterious smile, making the pieces on the board of life dance in harmony. Beelzebub, on the other hand, tirelessly watched over, presenting strength and resilience, while in her heart, she whispered to the wind, calling out her name with longing.

No one knows what Elyra truly is. Even Fitran and Beelzebub can only embrace and pray that the world will one day be ready to accept a being born from questions and not from answers.

In her solitude, Elyra could hear the heartbeats of her parents, both merging in a symphony of hope and anxiety. There are moments when their compassion and affection explore the recesses of her soul, digging up understanding in hidden places. She feels that, though not manifested in the real world, their love is the spiral that connects souls, strengthening and bringing to life the identity hidden behind deep longing.