Fitran sat atop a tower made of gleaming black stone, soaring high amidst the gray clouds. The tower spiraled upward, reflecting an infinite passage of time. Its intricate carvings on each layer depicted ancient tales and forgotten secrets. The sturdy columns stood firm, defying storms and sheltering rain, embodying an architecture that embraced mysticism and eternity. Below him, the fifth sea unfolded, perpetually restless, vibrating with hues of purple and dark blue, sparkling like jewels hidden within the chest of the universe. In the distance, the waves spoke in a hoarse voice, recounting its life story to anyone willing to listen.
The place belonged to no one. The wind bore no messages, and the sun rose without any witnesses. It remained silent, allowing the wind to tear at its tattered cloak. Fitran recalled the days when he was regarded as a knight of truth, engaged in many battles for justice. However, as time passed, he came to see how the once-respected system now merely served to uphold power while disregarding humanity. The resurgence of the newly formed Arkanum Veritas threatened to reinforce power in Gaia, compelling people to live without question. Here, the call to return no longer stirred his heart; he had witnessed the bitter truth behind the illusion.
A black bird arrived, silent, and simply dropped a piece of parchment written with blood ink and wax: a copy of the echo of the laws from the newly activated Arkanum Veritas. His name was mentioned in the thirteenth line as a witness of the old era. It was clear that he once played a significant role in that narrative. However, he did not read beyond that.
He placed the document on a stone, letting the wind carry it out to sea.
"Let them replay the same game," he murmured. "I have stepped out of the game."
Once, Fitran was a knight of truth who fought for justice and goodness. Now, he did not even claim to be human. After encountering Beelzebub and losing half of his living memories, his philosophical transformation began; he had become something else—fragments of will, a current from the void that chose to walk not to win, but to erase the narrative itself. Whenever he reflected on his past victories, he was reminded of the moment he felt betrayed by the system he was supposed to defend. When difficult decisions had to be made, he saw the truth disguised as lies for the sake of greater power.
In the distance, a towering spire, its walls made of shimmering stone, reflected the faint glow of the moon. This tower, as if crafted from ancient crystal, emanated a mysterious aura that enveloped the surrounding area. Each layered stone reaching towards the sky was etched with symbols understandable only to those who had traversed the path of truth, and its softly curved edges resembled a shield, enhancing both an elegance and an unmatched strength. Yet now, those symbols felt like a prison for Fitran, a reminder of all he had left behind in pursuit of true freedom.
When the wind whispers softly, it carries the strange aroma of the Fifth Sea; the scent of salt enveloped in the unexpected fragrance of sea flowers, as if the ocean itself were recounting an ancient story buried deep. The Fifth Sea serves as the boundary between reality and dreams, its waters shimmering with colors that defy description—bright blue mingling with deep purple in a breathtaking harmony. The waves move gently, as if dancing to a rhythm only those souls connected with the wisdom deep within the ocean floor can hear. However, he knows this tranquility will not last long; the rise of Arkanum Veritas poses a real threat to Gaia's power structure, and his call to return is a plea from a past that no longer aligns with his beliefs. Meanwhile, he chooses to stand at the edge of the abyss, challenging the system he once defended.
A messenger arrived—a young woman bearing the royal seal and fear in her eyes. "Lord Fitran… Arkanum Veritas has risen again. They will demand rights over Gaia. Lady Aurianne is drafting a counter-manifesto. We... we need you back." For a brief moment, Fitran felt the vibrations of the past, where the bold call to defend the truth ignited a deep sense of fervor within him. However, the haunting shadow of Beelzebub and the loss of half his memories made him question the meaning of that struggle. The resurgence of Arkanum Veritas, a group he once fought against for justice, now shook the very foundations of Gaia's power, creating new openings for chaos and conflict.
In Fitran's mind, the tower stood tall amid the tumultuous roar of the fifth sea, reminiscent of a time when he swung his sword for truth, reaching high like hope amidst the waves of uncertainty. He recalled the moments he devoted his soul to a system that turned out to be corrupt, as decisions led him towards a deep philosophical division. The memory of realizing that the leaders he supported were utterly unworthy became a turning point in his life journey. At a height nearly unreachable by humans, the summit was adorned with luminescent moss that sparkled, as if connecting the stars in the sky to the depths of the ocean. Each stone forming the tower was a silent witness to the tales of battle, every crack and contour narrating the conflict between good and evil, mirroring the struggles within Fitran himself.
However, the roots of these problems lay within himself; the brutal actions taken against Gaia's high officials and the dismantling of the shadow government had shaken the political foundations of Gaia to its core. This chaos flowed like a fierce current in a storm, impacting every aspect of life throughout this once peaceful realm.
Fitran remained trapped in the dark fog left by Beelzebub's magic, which had sealed away half of his memories. The loss of these crucial parts of himself made every decision feel foreign, as if he were observing a shadow of himself, detached from his original purpose. In a faint flashback, he recalled witnessing his once-loyal comrades being captured and tortured simply for standing by the principles of justice. That moment became his turning point; he realized that the system he had defended was riddled with flaws, and the truth he held no longer aligned with the reality at hand.
Whether these glimpses of the past were merely fragments of his distorted memory, a new presence slowly began to infiltrate his fragile soul after losing those vital pieces of himself. They appeared like shadows, whispering vague words that he could not fully comprehend, yet were enough to disturb his peace and stir his curiosity.
Inside him, there was an emptiness, as if a void had frozen his spirit, filling his heart with a longing for lost memories. The thought of becoming a knight of truth again felt impossible, especially as he witnessed how the resurgence of Arkanum Veritas increasingly threatened the fragile power structures in Gaia. Their revival underscored the dissatisfaction of the people and ignited the desires of old powers wanting to reclaim control. There was still a long journey ahead before he could fully return to who he once was.
Fitran turned slowly. His eyes held no hope or anger, only a deep, quiet exhaustion, a transformation from a defender of the system he once championed to a decision-maker, weighing whether to resist or not.
"Do you know why they were able to rise again?" he asked.
The envoy looked puzzled. "Because... because their legal rights have not been fully revoked?"
"Because this world still hopes for the system." He stood, his steps slow, as if walking upon time itself. "But I will not return for the system. I am not interested in kingdoms, in petitions, in the voices of the people demanding and then forgetting. I come not to save, but to witness something older than truth: a just emptiness.
Behind him, a tall tower rises, made of gleaming black stone, as if coated in the moon's brilliance. Its sharp form juts upwards, with a tip that seems to reach for the twinkling stars shrouded in mystery. The walls are layered and adorned with intricate carvings that resemble ancient spells, telling tales of rise and fall. The tower's columns are hewn from shimmering white marble, creating a dramatic contrast with the dark main stone, like hope amidst despair. The height of the tower is not just physical; it symbolizes the unwavering aspirations of humanity, never extinguished even when surrounded by emptiness.
Fitran stood there, gazing at the tower as a symbol of the beliefs he once held dear. In the past, he had been a knight of truth, fighting for a system that promised to deliver justice. However, faced with the prolonged conflict between corrupt leaders and an oppressed society, doubts began to creep in. The call to return to the system that had been passed down to him grew increasingly stifling, especially after losing half of his memories—a moment that left him feeling even more estranged. In a fleeting glimpse of recollection, he remembered Beelzebub, a figure who had once been his guiding light, now transformed into a symbol of the very deceit he had fought against. That moment marked his turning point; witnessing how idealism could be twisted to serve the interests of those in power. No longer was he a defender, but a dissenter against a system rife with lies.
This philosophical transformation followed him like a shadow that he could not leave behind. He struggled to distance himself from the call to return, believing that ignoring it was the only way to honor the fundamental values he sought to uphold. Every step he took became part of the resistance against the power structure of Gaia, now threatened by the resurgence of Arkanum Veritas. With the reactivation of that power, the balance that had been maintained began to falter, shaking the foundations of a worn-out authority and sending waves of discontent through society. Fitran realized that the decision to reject the call back could plant seeds of new hope, encouraging others to unite against tyranny and rediscover the light in the darkness that had long enveloped them.
He walked past the messenger, not in a hurry, not with any particular destination in mind. Just walking. Before him, the Fifth Sea stretched wide, its waters shimmering like millions of diamonds dancing in the light. The waves rolled softly, yet behind the roar of their sound, there was something deeper and more frightening. This sea was known as a place where time melted into illusion, where the waves bore silent witness to all the hopes that had been drowned. The waters, displaying a bluish-green hue, seemed to have a desire of their own—enticing, pulling, yet simultaneously terrifying, like a secret buried in a heart that had drifted away. The silence enveloping the scene arose not only from the water but also from the countless souls that could no longer be counted; they were witnesses to the darkness that had spread there, trapped between dreams and a shattered reality.
Gazing at the endless sea, Fitran was reminded of the accident that befell his friend—an event that shattered everything. Faced with the injustices wrought by the system, he once fought valiantly as a knight of truth, opposing every deviation. However, all of that changed when Beelzebub appeared, unraveling the layers of reality he had long accepted as truth. The loss of half his memory became a pivotal moment, as if erasing a part of his identity. The call to return to the system felt like shackles, binding him to bitter memories and hollow hopes. Now, he preferred to reject that call, realizing that the awakening of Arkanum Veritas was not a resurgence of truth, but a violation of a broken order.
Finally, a new fire ignited within him—one born from emptiness and destruction. Not to burn, but to ensure—nothing returns whole. Every step he took was a protest against external powers that sought to dictate his life, and each late night found him reflecting on the sacrifices made for a semblance of peace. Arkanum Veritas had a domino effect on the power structure of Gaia, dismantling the foundations built to enslave hope. And in his heart, Fitran knew that this change was but the beginning.
Aetherium Castle Hall, Burness I City, Gaia Island 2
The room was never truly silent, but today, an agonizing stillness filled the air, as if inviting every stifled heartbeat to echo within. The Aetherium Hall, the highest meeting chamber of the Gaia kingdom, was surrounded by majestic pillars that soared upward, adorned with ancient carvings that now felt like bitter memories on a forsaken shipwreck. The scent of wood and burning candles lingered in the atmosphere, further enhancing the awkwardness of this unusual gathering.
At the round table, five new dignitaries sat—replacements for those who had been murdered in Thirtos, by unknown hands and for unclear reasons. They inherited a bloody throne, burdened by a blended feeling of oppression and fear within their chests. Each passing second felt like a burning reminder of the price they must pay to acquire this power, and the shadows of fallen predecessors only exacerbated their dark mood.
Lord Alaric Vantess, with fiery eyes and a body trembling from anger, slammed his hands on the table, his voice slicing through the silence. "He refuses! Fitran will not take sides!" In his mind, Alaric struggled to comprehend why Fitran, once known as the knight of truth, was now distancing himself.
Lady Seraphine Valeora, the representative of the Great House of Astral, stared blankly at the large map hanging in the center of the room, her mind drifting far away. "It's not rejection. He... remains silent. That's worse." Her voice quivered, fearing that Fitran's silence was not merely a sign of indifference, but a signal of a greater chaos to come for the kingdom.
"Arkanum Veritas has activated its claim rights. They have the legal power to submit a reclamation of the kingdom. And now they have the people's sympathy. Even the soldiers in the barracks start questioning the 'Codex Reclaimare'," muttered Marquess Octavian Malre, his face pale as first snow. His eyes, usually vibrant, now appeared empty, as if the weight of the news pressed down all hope within him. The rise of Arkanum Veritas hinted at a serious threat to the power structure of Gaia, a collapse that would not only shift military positions but also threaten to unveil all the lies long hidden beneath the surface. As this current of change began to flow, uncertainty enveloped the room—myths and reality would collide in ways they had never imagined.
Chancellor Darius Vernault, the youngest among them, spoke hesitantly, "Perhaps… perhaps we could lure him back with a new contract. Promise him land. Power. Even... full freedom from the laws of Gaia." Darius's voice trembled, reflecting the doubts and fears clouding his mind—it felt like a shackle, trapping him in this daunting choice. What was once perceived as systemic peace had now transformed into a snare, and everyone in the room felt its repercussions, caught between hope and the fear of facing the consequences of their decisions. Darius recalled how their pride as guardians of truth had eroded due to the neglect suffered by Fitran, and now they had to bear the burden of trying to win him back, even as it seemed increasingly improbable.
Sir Thalor Grevenheim, who had been silent until now, let out a dry laugh. "Do you think Fitran still cares about land or power? We are talking about a being that rejects reality. He is a monster," he added.
A silence filled the room, thick with tension. Everyone present felt the weight of uncertainty, like a dark fog slowly creeping in to envelop their existence. Amidst this tension, the map in the center of the room began to tremble, a result of the magical vibrations emanating from the district of Thirtos. A glyph materialized on its surface—a signal marking the activation of the Codex Arkanum. This symbol had not appeared since the era of Gaia's founders. Everyone in the room was left speechless, their breaths catching for a moment, as if the world outside was once again reminding them of a threat greater than mere political disputes.
Lady Seraphine Valeora stood up. "If Fitran is not with us… then he is a gap we cannot protect. Anything could come through him." Her voice was resolute, yet a hint of vulnerability seeped through—an unmaskable realization of the cost of loss and how the absence of a leader could change the trajectory of a nation. The resurgence of Arkanum Veritas, which was meant to slice through selfishness and ambition, instead stirred fear of a power that would only confound and exacerbate the conflicts among them. In their hearts, everyone felt the uncertainty: were they ready to face the consequences of this awakening, especially if Fitran remained indifferent?
"Including the destruction we fear," continued Sir Thalor Grevenheim, his voice echoing through the silence. The urgency in his speech was evident, like a leader facing a storm without protection. He felt the weight of responsibility becoming heavier on his shoulders, as if the world would collapse if they did not act.
For the first time, the leaders of Gaia felt they were not battling against an organization or the people. They were fighting against an impartial void. And that was the most lethal threat.
Fitran, once known as the knight of truth, now distanced himself from the call to return, feeling a profound transformation within. What had once been his finger pointing to uphold justice was slowly turning into a rejection of the system he believed oppressed him. Amidst the chaos of conflict enveloping Gaia, he recalled the mental battle he had to endure when confronting Beelzebub, the entity that had stolen half of his memories, leaving him estranged from himself and acutely aware of the danger.
In a flashback, Fitran stood in the midst of a battlefield filled with sacrifice and suffering. He witnessed soldiers fighting for principles they believed in, yet the existing system exploited their suffering for the sake of power. This pivotal moment made him skeptical of the structure he once defended. Now, the call to return had grown increasingly faint, obscured by the awareness of the consequences of the rise of Arkanum Veritas, a power that could shake the foundations of Gaia's authority. A thought crossed his mind: if Arkanum Veritas were to awaken, this structure would not survive without change, forcing everyone involved to confront an unavoidable truth.
"This is how they remember you, Fitran," Beelzebub said in a low voice that echoed in the darkness. The atmosphere around felt cold and ominous, shadows danced on the walls as if intently listening to their conversation. "You seem to create a narrative that your memories have been consumed by me, obscuring the true essence of who you are now."
"As per our agreement," he continued, the voice rising in tension, "if the world does not desire you, I will swallow all the remaining hope they have, replacing it with eternal darkness."
"The Eighth Stomach – "Gluttony of Remembrance"
This magic is not merely about swallowing; it is also about digesting and transforming the collective memory into something dark and unpredictable. It cunningly steals the world's memories, absorbing every detail and emotion, then expelling a new version that has been "cooked" with lies, making these lies an undeniable truth in the minds of those affected.
Every living being within a certain radius, including spirits and transdimensional entities, will experience profound changes in their memories as determined by Beelzebub's will. Histories etched in historical documents, records of magic containing ancient knowledge, and even relics that hold stories of the past will all become distorted, as if reality has been engineered according to the new memories created. For those who dare to resist or who become aware of this manipulation, a terrifying experience awaits: "Vertigo of Truth". This is a debilitating condition that induces nausea, loss of balance, and mild madness—a turmoil in their minds where the brain struggles to reconcile the displaced reality with the original memories as if they have been erased.
"But it is impossible for you to be forgotten," Beelzebub continued, his eyes glinting in the darkness. "At the very least, the girl will always remember you; your name will be etched in her soul like footprints in the sand that will never fade."
This magic cannot reach entities disconnected from their "roots of existence" in this world, such as Fitran, who has shed his humanity and vanished into the darkness. Furthermore, this magic is ineffective against beings that do not rely on memory as the foundation of consciousness, like the Pure Golem made of clay that lacks a soul, or certain races from unimaginable dimensions.
"It's time for you to realize, Fitran."
"When I activate this magic ....
"First Stomach, Anamnesis Devourer
This magic not only devours memories but also the very meaning of existence. It absorbs recollections as if chewing them into a fine paste, creating a porridge of nothingness that threatens to envelop all, leaving individuals trapped in a terrifying existential void. However, if the victim is an entity like Fitran, who is not entirely bound by human form,...
When half of his memories are erased, Fitran should have collapsed into emptiness, vanishing like morning dew absorbed by sunlight. Yet, instead...
"In that void, something awakens, piercing through the darkness that engulfs his soul."
He is no longer known as Fitran the Brave Knight, who wielded a sword against the darkness. Nor is he the Guardian of Gaia, dutifully maintaining the balance of nature. He is not even the ruthless killer lurking in the shadows. What rises now is "Fitran: The Echo of the First Light and Final Shadow" — an ancient consciousness, shrouded in mystery, that even Beelzebub has never encountered.