Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 451 Beelzebub Evidence Eater

After emerging from the spiral that divides logic, the world became very silent, like the silence of a night without sound. Too silent, as if all voices had been swallowed by darkness.

Fitran and Beelzebub stood on cracked ground, the fissures resembling open wounds, exhaling swirling gray smoke. These cracks were not the result of ordinary destruction—rather, they were a rejection of structure, a protest from something greater. This place was not an ordinary space; it was a boundary separating reality from origin, a gap revealing everything that should remain hidden. It was the crack between the visible world and a terrifying dimension. Here, beings like Beelzebub were created... and punished if they crossed the defined limits.

As Fitran looked ahead, his heart raced. He knew something had come, not an ordinary creature, nor a god. But the original body of Beelzebub, a representation of all madness and darkness that could be.

The sky bulged, melting like black liquid, spreading in all directions. From the crack in the sky, a horrifying shape emerged: nine layers of stomachs spinning like the gears of hell, rotating with a rhythm that created tension.

Each stomach dripped liquid glyphs, symbols seemingly forced out from that darkness, symbols that could not be read without losing the language that had been known. Each glyph seemed to vibrate, creating ripples in the atmosphere of their standing location.

From within the first stomach, a voice echoed, resonating like a scream from the depths of darkness:

"You have loved."

"Then you are no longer one of us."

The second stomach whispered in a tone that heightened the tension, its voice seeping into the soul:

"Once you are bound by emotion, you betray the foundation of our system."

The third stomach roared, its voice a dome full of threats surrounding them:

"You will be consumed again. We do not tolerate betrayal against the established will."

Beelzebub fell silent, emanating a dark aura that pressed the air around her. Her eyes were green, reminiscent of the light of poison, yet they did not shine. She knew... this was a call back, a voice from the darkness that once brought her life.

Fitran turned to her, seeing Beelzebub not only trapped in darkness but as if she flowed within it, forming and swelling, creating a terrifying presence.

"Is that... your original body?"

"Not just a body," Beelzebub replied, her voice echoing like the whisper of wind stirring the thin mist among the dark shadows.

"That is me... from before, a figure full of light now ensnared in eternal darkness."

"I, before knowing tenderness, silence... or you, before being trapped in the web of illusion spun by love."

The fourth stomach continued, its voice adding to the tension, like the roar of an ancient creature trapped in a freeze of time:

"What you consider love is merely an illusion that traps you deeper, like a snake coiling around its prey."

"What will happen if you... return to it?"

The fifth stomach opened, its rumbling voice like thunder shaking the ground, sounding like Beelzebub herself—vibrating with the voice of her past:

"You will lose everything. No memories. No feelings. No me—only emptiness that torments the soul."

"Only pure will... to swallow all meaning so that the system is never whole, as if tearing reality apart and obliterating your last hope."

"I will lose everything," she said, her face reflecting the fear that enveloped her like dark fog.

"No memories left. No eternal feelings."

"No true me, only my shadow abandoned among the distorted rooms."

"There is only pure will... to swallow all meaning so that this system is never whole, Beelzebub. You must understand the consequences."

The fifth stomach opened, a vibrating voice hissing, creating vibrations in the atmosphere, adding a frightening impression to the already dark ambiance.

From within it came a voice that sounded like Beelzebub herself—her past voice, but distorted by layers of control pressing down, producing a stuttering rhythm as if the space around her was retreating.

"You have lingered too long on the side of humanity, Beelzebub. They have corrupted you."

"Love, which should guide you, has now made you weak, like a dim light that should burn but instead fades."

"You began to love not out of need, but out of... a desire to survive, a paradox gnawing at your soul. It is an intolerable flaw, a dark shadow behind the beams of light."

The seventh stomach began to absorb the ground beneath Beelzebub's feet, contracting like black mud being sucked into a deeper darkness with surprising strength, evoking the impression that the world around her was collapsing.

She staggered, her body trembling under the increasingly heavy burden, as if the air around her was distorted, choking and demanding with a deadly force.

"I... will not be able to resist if she calls all layers. This is a call that cannot be ignored," she gasped, her voice echoing like a silent sound from the depths of darkness. Every word spoken seemed like a shadow floating, adding weight to the oppressive atmosphere.

Fitran, who had allowed Beelzebub to stand as a guardian all this time, now stepped forward firmly, his steps resolute like light fighting against darkness. Around him, the faint light from the normal dimension seemed to vibrate before swallowing the dark of the intimidating supernatural light.

"You do not have to return to that grip," he said with a tone full of conviction, looking with eyes that seemed capable of piercing the layers of darkness covering Beelzebub's soul.

Beelzebub turned, her face filled with doubt, astonished by Fitran's courage in the midst of this danger. Her previously proud expression now cracked, revealing repressed anger, as if she were grappling with a monster within herself.

"If I stay, I will be destroyed. This system tears me from within," she said, her voice becoming a whisper, each word like the rumble of thunder in the dark sky.

"My body is designed to reject love. If I endure... I will explode from within," she explained, reflected in her eyes that resembled a sea of fire, fiery and dangerous.

"Then let me..." Fitran paused, gazing into her deep and steep eyes like an abyss without a bottom, diving into courage—his eyes intense.

"Let me be the vessel of your will to love, let me help free you."

Fitran spread his hands with hope, his hands appearing like lanterns trying to illuminate their own path in the endless darkness.

The void within his body—sealed by him all this time—opened slightly, providing a little space to welcome some energy from Beelzebub, forming a dim circle of light that spun, like a star lost in emptiness.

The eighth stomach roared heavily, its voice asserting its dominant position; the dark and frightening narrative seemed to vibrate between the heartbeats filled with tension:

"You, human, cannot absorb the will and power from hell, Beelzebub. This process will only damage you deeper," its voice seemed to create a tremendous wave that shook the air, penetrating the entire space.

"The love you desire will make you explode. This reality cannot be avoided."

"I do not absorb," Fitran replied calmly, his tone steady despite the threats like dark shadows lurking around him, creating pressure that felt almost tearing.

"I only acknowledge your true existence and your repressed urges, like a blazing fire in the darkness."

"Acknowledge what?" asked the ninth stomach, its voice distorted and full of dissatisfaction, like thunder far behind the mountains. The space around them buzzed, as if distorted by the emptiness between the separated dimensions.

"...That I also want Beelzebub to remain herself. Even if that love never returns to me, like light lost swallowed by darkness forever."

Beelzebub fell to her knees, her body bowing under an invisible weight.

Her body burned slowly, not with flames that illuminate, but with a gentle glow that warms. The fire flowed like dim light in a dark cave, soft and alluring.

From her back, wings like fabric unfolded—not black, not light, but dull gray... a color between will and doubt, as if made of flowing and endless mist.

"You give me space," she said weakly, her voice like a whisper from the depths.

"And because of that, I will not be consumed by the emptiness that threatens me."

"Are you sure of that?" asked the ninth stomach with a gripping tone, like the grip of a giant hand trying to restrain. "The greater system does not allow your conflicting presence."

"I am not merely a product of this will," Beelzebub responded with a trembling voice, as if the sound came from the depths of hell. "I have the right to choose, like the dawn light trying to pierce the darkness of night."

"That right is an illusion," the eighth stomach threatened, as if creating a shockwave that was destructive. "Every choice you make has been shackled by a higher will, like shackles holding a terrorized being without hope."

"You do not have the right to judge it," Beelzebub faced it, dulling the tension in her voice with a burning determination. "I choose to love, even if it is unreturned, like a wildflower growing in a barren field."

"Love is a trap, Beelzebub," the seventh stomach emphasized, its voice sharp like a needle's eye. "We who are tasked with watching will not allow love that does not conform to the ruling system, like unfeeling guards against alienated souls."

"I am free from this system!" Beelzebub shouted, her voice echoing like thunder in the darkness, ignoring the threats that were closing in. Thick shadows surrounded her, depicting a suffocating helplessness. "My existence does not depend on your will!"

Her original body—the Nine Stomach Hell—groaned, a deep and terrifying sound like the rumble of a volcano ready to erupt.

She could not swallow a being that was acknowledged by free will, as if time spun slowly around her.

"Anyone who claims freedom in this system is nothing more than an illusion," hissed the sixth stomach, its cold voice making the air chilling like frost in the morning. Every word was like a blade of ice cutting through the silence, creating cracks in the reality around them.

"There will be no room for the individual!" shouted the fifth stomach, rage clearly depicted in its increasingly raised tone, stirring waves of energy that shook the darkness around it.

"And in one final scream, the body crumbled to ash," Beelzebub asserted, her movements full of tension as if trapped between two worlds. She surrendered in the midst of a storm of threatening waves, invisible shadows sucking the light around her. "But even in my ashes, I will choose my existence."

Beelzebub stared at her own hands, her fingers appearing like the branches of a dead tree, rising full of despair.

"I am no longer a monster. But I am not human either."

"May I still stand by your side?"

Fitran did not answer, silent with a deep gaze, as if looking into Beelzebub's soul.

He simply reached for her hand, the grip warm, feeling like light in the midst of darkness.

And he did not let go, as if saving Beelzebub from falling into the abyss of emptiness.

Beelzebub, the Devourer of Evidence,

had been saved not by proof,

but by the acknowledgment that she has the right to exist, to love, and not return to her nature.

And for the first time,

she was not part of the system.

But part of a choice.