Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 574 News of Elyra Penetrating Omega, and Loki Looks Away

In the Omega world, magic has withered, and language now lies in dust, where the meaning of names disappears like dew in the morning. This world stands on the ruins of myths, where the great Chronos once froze time, and the guardians of dimensions became victims of a will that has died, severed from reality.

However, as Elyra weeps, her glowing glyph, Aperta Lux Spiralis, begins to vibrate beyond the faded map of magic, penetrating the smallest cracks between time and reality. It touches Omega, sending waves of energy that revive the long silence.

In the soothing stillness, the whispers of ancestors vibrate gently, merging with the rustling wind that utters secrets long lost in darkness. Each passage of time shakes the heart of the earth, as if reminding of the power of magic that once shone with unimaginable brilliance.

In the midst of the desolate and silent ash desert of Omega stands Arbor Nihil—the proud black tree that has been dead for 8000 years, as if a silent witness to the passage of time. Yet on that day, a small golden leaf began to grow at the tip of its branch, radiating a captivating shimmering light. The leaf is not just a plant; it is a letter, a symbol of forgotten hope.

In its embrace, the leaf glows with a soft sacred light, as if reigniting the dim flame of magic and signaling new hope amidst the frozen silence.

The letter "E."

The space is filled with mysterious shadows, enveloping every corner with an aura of uncertainty. Pillars of light hang upside down, as if time has stumbled heavily upon them. Clocks tick backward, against the flow of time that should flow in one direction. The spells etched on the walls remain unread; they are willingly forgotten, as if trapped in silence forever, never to have the chance to be revived.

In the darkness of that space, ghostly voices echo like whispers from the past, calling back memories buried in the heart. Each floating speck of dust seems laden with long-lost tales, hinting that in this world, there are still magical threads waiting to be spun back into living stories.

And from the midst of the room, which is sunk in darkness, Loki rises, like a figure reborn from shadows. His youthful face contrasts with his wise eyes, as if every gaze holds fragments of forgotten history. In his hand, he holds a piece of the thread of time—the last fragment of a fate that has been canceled.

In his gaze, the shimmer of stars seems trapped, radiating a haunting glow; the universe vibrates with an intensity that feels full of unfulfilled potential. Here, on the edge of time, truth and illusion intertwine, filling the space with a tense and thrilling energy, creating an atmosphere that could almost be cut with a knife. freewebnøvel.com

He spins slowly, stepping gracefully like a dance in the middle of the night, then speaks to himself. His soft voice intertwines with the whispers of the faint winds of time, as if hinting at secrets long buried. "A name that should never have been born... has split history." "A spiral that is not closed... is the enemy of all ancient pacts." "Good."

The space around him seems to vibrate with intense and intimidating energy; its walls appear to hold hope and fear, ready to recreate everything with one absolute decision, altering the woven fate.

As he steps out of the cathedral, the Omega world screams with a resonating voice. Not out of fear—but because his return means something profoundly important. A sharp cold wind blows, carrying whispers from forgotten times, filling the space around him with magical resonance. As if all elements of nature conspire, creating a thrilling dramatization, crafting an atmosphere rich with hope and mystery.

The guardians of the Omega foundation, beings gathered in a mystical circle, witness the inevitable change:

Heira Chronosept Melek Ar-Rah Solon Vectra and even Joanna the Spiral Guardian... all feel the imbalance of meaning surrounding them. In their gazes, there is a sea of ancient knowledge flowing, as if revealing a bridge connecting lost time with a future full of mystery. The name Elyra is not just a new mention; rather, it is a name that redefines the essence of "name" itself. That name echoes in the sky, like a signal to the twinkling stars, indicating that something great is rising, waiting to be embraced and understood.

Fitran gazes at the sky, which now begins to pulse gently, as if there is a cosmic heart vibrating above him, spreading a magical aura around. He feels the resonance that has transcended the boundaries of the world, touching souls that sleep in the claws of deep and terrifying darkness. The darkness is no longer silent; it roils, filled with potential and hope never felt before, shaking the walls of the hidden heart.

Beelzebub, in an intimate moment while nursing Elyra, feels the hairs on her neck stand up, as if enveloped by the terrifying atmosphere surrounding them. In her gaze, filled with doubt and concern, a shadow of an enemy lurking behind the veil of reality emerges, patiently waiting for the moment to strike with a devastating blow.

"What is that?" she asks in a soft voice, muffled by the tension hanging in the air, as it can be felt in every breath. "The world is calling..." Fitran replies, his voice full of meaning, as if he interprets a message deeper than mere words. "Not calling Elyra. But calling what remains of the old system to react, demanding its presence to the surface."

Amidst the murmurs of the softly whispering wind, as if bringing him back to the past, images of bygone days flash through Fitran's mind, reminding him of moments where wonder and darkness moved in unspoken harmony, creating moments filled with tension. And deep in his mind, he hears a voice long unheard, like an echo from the sidelined corridors of time:

"Fitran. It's me... Loki. I will come to see your child. Not to destroy her—but to witness if she is truly worthy of erasing the old names that bind."

The voice seems to paint an invisible curtain, weaving the room with a strong resonance, igniting waves in the air, and bringing the distinctive aroma of a forgotten world; a nostalgic scent that is both enchanting and terrifying, placing Fitran at the crossroads between hope and fear.

Loki gathers shards from the old system, each piece holding its own story and power, as if harboring secrets buried in the recesses of time: Fragments of Chronos, which hold the memories of time travel, Remnants of Avalon, symbols of lost beauty, Bones of the void pact, which evoke emptiness and mystery.

Among the scattered shards, perhaps hidden is a faint hope, or merely a shadow of something that once existed but is now fading, creating a dark and mysterious atmosphere. With a soft voice that breaks the silence, Loki whispers a new spell:

"Elyra... If you are the end of the word, then allow me to be the writer of the last word that will call you from the thick darkness, like a painter gently touching a blank canvas with the colors of hope. Let my voice penetrate the silence, transforming the stillness into a beautiful song, awakening your buried shadow among the ruins of memories."