Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time

Atlantis School, 50th Floor, Atonement Room, Year 10 (Present)

12:00 AM - A chilling silence envelops the midnight hour, as the clock strikes twelve, infusing the air with a palpable tension.

The pastor stands alert, his eyes sharp as an eagle, ready to confront any attacks that may come from the markuez.

"Be careful, Julie," the pastor says firmly, his gaze vigilant, watching every movement around them.

"Yes," she replies, her tone mirroring the same tension.

"Hehehehe, don't act tough, little bug," the markuez mocks, preparing to launch an attack, his smile brimming with malevolence.

Yet, amidst the mounting tension, the sound of footsteps draws nearer, slicing through the stillness of the night.

Tap ... tap ... tap

As the footsteps approach, the silhouette of a figure begins to materialize. Before long, Fitran appears, clad in a flowing robe that billows gently behind him. From a distance, he has already conjured a protective spell, an aura of shimmering light enveloping his form with a calming glow.

"Hey, Pastor! How did you recognize me?" Fitran asks, his voice filled with curiosity.

"Your scent is different from other humans," he responds, his tone soft yet tinged with intrigue.

"(Here it is, Fitran. I feel like I've met him before)," Julie thought, her heart racing with a sense of familiarity.

Fitran gazed at Julie with deep intensity, as if a beam of light cut through the darkness. Suddenly, he felt hypnotized, trapped in the warmth and curiosity radiating from her eyes.

"Julie," the pastor said, gently interrupting his reverie.

"Huh?" Julie replied, confusion evident in her voice as she awoke from her deep contemplation, unconsciously shaking her head slowly.

Now, Fitran stood beside Markuez, staring blankly ahead before slowly patting his shoulder with a reassuring hand. His gesture seemed supportive, as if he wished to pull Markuez out of the noise in his mind.

"Fitran, what are you doing here?" Markuez asked, his voice filled with curiosity, creating a calm atmosphere amidst the turmoil in his thoughts.

"Aren't you supposed to be taking care of someone?" Markuez inquired with a puzzled tone, his eyes shining with uncertainty, reflecting the confusion brewing in his mind.

 Markuez was caught in confusion. In his mind, the memories of Elbert seemed to blend into Fitran, making him feel as though they were one and the same.

"I already know about the Heart Ancient Golem formula," Fitran said, his voice gently echoing as he traced the memories left by Elbert. "The power of that stone can create a portal that will take me anywhere, as if I could easily traverse time and space."

 "Don't tell me you're planning to go to Stones," Markuez said, his voice filled with profound disappointment. "Aren't you supposed to finish your dark magic studies first? I dealt with that damned high official for you."

 "However, my relationship with her is more important," Fitran replied meaningfully, referring to the elegant and mysterious Rinoa.

"What do you mean?" Markuez asked, his expression bewildered, his eyes sparkling with deep curiosity.

Tremendously, Markuez's body multiplied. Five versions of himself appeared around Fitran, creating an exhilarating illusion. One figure attacked fiercely, another humbled himself and knelt, while another lay broken in flames. On a different side, one laughed joyfully, and another wept, filling the air with profound sorrow.

All these events unfolded simultaneously, as if time held no meaning between them.

Marquez screamed in terror, "What is this…?! What are you doing to me?!"

Fitran replied calmly, "You are alive and dead. Until I decide otherwise."

Marquez attempted to strike Fitran with all his might, but each blow merely penetrated an illusory version of Fitran, as if he were trying to destroy a shadow that eluded capture. The reality around them began to fracture, creating gaps that resembled a shattered mirror revealing a different world in each of its shards.

Fitran: "I have seen the possibilities laid out before me...

And of all them, only one deserves to be called reality."

(Final Whisper)

"You... are dead."

With a swift thrust, Fitran's sword pierced sharply into Marquez's throat, as if bringing a definitive end to a story filled with intrigue.

Guah ....!

Markuez felt confused and anxious as he realized that he couldn't activate his powers. His eyes darted in shock towards the sword lodged in his throat, recognizing it as Excalibur, the legendary weapon that was only supposed to belong to the Paladin. Questions spun in his mind: who was the figure standing before him, and why was the sword with his friend? Friend? ...

"It's Fitran," he said, his voice trembling as if revealing his uncertainty. The name escaped his lips not due to a mispronunciation, but because his psyche was shaken by the magic that had just been used. His face was drawn tight, and his eyes reflected a deep unease, as if he were struggling against intimidating shadows in his mind.

Markuez finally shut his eyes.

"It's all because you planned to hurt Rinoa," Fitran said, his tone bursting with anger, his eyes blazing like embers, reflecting the tension that enveloped them, as if the air around them had become heavier with repressed fury.

Zab...! With a swift motion, Fitran released his grip on the sword, yet surprisingly, not a single drop of blood stained the floor, as if Markuez's body had absorbed it entirely, leaving a chilling silence in its wake.

Bruagh...! Markuez's body fell as if the world around him crumbled simultaneously, resonating with a thunderous silence. Power, politics, and authority seemed to vanish, swallowed by time, reducing everything to worthless dust.

 "What kind of magic is that?" the Pastor exclaimed.

Fitran carved a thin smile, as if guarding a secret behind the tension filling the room.

"Fitran. Who is he?" the Pastor asked, his eyes wide with uncertainty and concern.

Fitran still felt the effects of his ultimate quantum spectrum, the Schrödinger Judgement. In his strange moments, he saw another version of himself. When caught in a chase, the shadow suddenly vanished—leaving behind a different reflection: an innocent child, a wise elder, and a terrifying tyrant. Sometimes, two shadows appeared together, but often only one remained. Time felt as though it was stuttering, and the birds froze in mid-air, as if trapped in silence. The rain flowed upwards, defying the laws of nature, creating an unusual spectacle. His own name felt like an illusion, shifting in writing and in people's memories, resonating with what the Pastor had just said.

"So, why don't we recreate that event?" Fitran said firmly, waving his hand to conjure a sparkling magic circle.

"Magic circle! Fire hollow!" Fitran shouted, his voice echoing in the silence that enveloped the place.

In the area where the pastor resided, a shimmering magic circle began to form amidst a rumble of energy. Flames swirled around the circle, then surged violently towards the pastor.

"Quantum spectrum! De combustion!" the pastor shouted firmly, attempting to regain control of the situation.

In an instant, the flames vanished as if swallowed by darkness. However, Julie began to cough, struggling to breathe from the searing warmth.

"To extinguish the fire, we must eliminate the oxygen," Fitran explained, his eyes glancing at Julie with deep concern.

Then, the pastor readied himself once more.

"Quantum spectrum, Sauerstoff," he uttered, his voice accompanied by a magical vibration that permeated the air.

With intense concentration, the pastor drew air from his surroundings with all his might. In his lungs, he carefully separated oxygen and hydrogen from the water vapor, a process that resembled an ancient ritual. The separated oxygen was then funneled back into his mouth, and with resolute confidence, he blew it into Julie's mouth, attempting to restore her chaotic blood circulation caused by Fitran's hypnotic attack.

"Lord Pastor," Julie uttered, feeling her consciousness return. She appeared stunned, disoriented as she surveyed her surroundings until her gaze landed on Markuez's lifeless body sprawled on the floor.

"What happened?" she asked anxiously, but the pastor seemed to ignore her, focused instead on the chaos around them.

Julie observed the pastor carefully, noticing his gaze now directed at Fitran with intense anger. His fury ignited, determined and fierce, before he turned his attention back to the enemy disturbing their peace.

"Fffithann!" Pastor Marah shouted, his voice echoing loudly, reverberating in the tension that engulfed the room.

"Speed of Light," Fitran declared firmly, as if confronting their adversaries hidden in the darkness of the charged atmosphere.

Flash!

As he blinked, his vision suddenly vanished. Fitran disappeared from sight—had he fallen under Fitran's hypnotic magic again? But suddenly, Fitran reappeared before them, thrilling and threatening.

Buagh! A powerful kick struck the pastor, sending him crashing into the wall with unbelievable force, debris swirling around, adding to the mayhem.

Fitran now stood in front of Julie, his deep red eyes resembling blood emanating a terrifying aura that made Julie's heart race. He lifted Julie's chin, gazing at her intensely, allowing her to clearly see the crimson pupils, as though they held a deep and frightening mystery.

Flash!

In a swift movement, the Pastor launched an attack from behind, but with remarkable agility, Fitran dodged and darted back to his original position, reminiscent of a deer leaping over obstacles in the forest.

"Hehehehe, it seems you're not giving me a chance to have some fun," Fitran taunted, his eyes sparkling with challenge.

"Because you're a madman, Fitran," the Pastor replied, his voice firm as he rose, his face reflecting dissatisfaction and anger.

"Quantum Spectrum, Rapture of The Deep," the Pastor uttered, increasing the nitrogen levels.

"Quantum Spectrum, Nitrox," Fitran countered, adding oxygen to break down the nitrogen in his blood from the Pastor's attack.

"Quantum Spectrum, Trimix," Fitran continued, meticulously adjusting the gas composition. He created an atmosphere around him with compressed helium, giving a sense of lightness and helping his breathing flow easier in this daunting depth.

"You're trying to dissolve the nitrogen inside me to make me drunk, so you can attack me freely," Fitran scoffed, his voice quivering with a condescending tone, as if challenging the darkness surrounding him.

"It seems you've misunderstood," the pastor replied, his voice calm and controlled, though his sharp gaze revealed a profound discomfort, as if he were struggling to keep the emotional waves beneath the surface of his tranquil demeanor.