Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 380 The Breaking of the Realms Aftermath of the Spiral War

Chapter 380 - 380 The Breaking of the Realms Aftermath of the Spiral War

A second after the impact...

The sky is silent, trapped in the emptiness of a shattered mirror, as if the entire universe is holding its breath.

There are no words spoken; only a suffocating silence wraps the heart in anxiety.

No light illuminates the surroundings, just the thick darkness, covering everything with a frightening black curtain.

No colors paint the panorama; it feels as if the world has lost its palette, leaving behind a monotonous, gloomy gray ash.

Reality has come to a halt.

All dimensions overlap, like layers of torn paper swirling in a storm, caught in the eerie silence.

Time appears frozen; the crystal seconds that should flow are now trapped in a static loop, holding everything in silence.

Meaning blurs, nearly becoming insignificant, like a fading shadow as a new light tries to penetrate the darkness.

In the midst of the emptiness...

The ashes of Joanna and the ashes of old laws swirl, flying in a terrifying slow-motion dance, like ghosts waltzing in the wind.

The clash between the Spiral of Divinity (Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Kraken)

and the Spiral of New Will (Joanna & the Titans)

unleashes a surge of magic that cannot be contained within a single reality, tearing the sky into thousands of shimmering fragments, each telling the story of an endless battle.

The three main layers of the world crumbled simultaneously:

The Chrono-Kosmos Layer — the once-solid compass of time now shatters, creating ruins that sparkle like scattered stars, emanating a faint yet breathtaking light.

The Fluctuating Layer — alternative pathways of will melt and intertwine, as if shaped by an unseen delicate hand. Waves of shimmering light permeate through dimensions, shaking reality with a terrifying vibration, where each second feels like a repetitive cycle pressing on the soul. The Continuum Layer — laws of continuity and stability shatter like glass, with its shards glistening in the air, creating lethal flashes that whisper to every soul witnessing the scene. Joanna is hurled far from the center of the impact. Her body bleeds, the glyphs of Flux and Anake on her back crack, releasing bursts of blazing energy, as if roaring in pain and suffering.

She clutched at the ground that no longer felt like soil; particles of dust and fragments of magic swirled around her, coalescing into a dark shadow that danced beneath the fading light. Above, the sky changed colors rapidly—blue, red, gray, and then black—painting a scene of absolute darkness, as if the universe itself was aware of the sorrow trapped within her heart.

"...Am I still alive?" Joanna whispered.

The voice of Jeanne echoed faintly in the recesses of Joanna's memory, penetrating her consciousness with a warmth tinged with loss, not from the outside world. The final strands of that memory surfaced before the Spiral was unleashed, creating an unforgettable image. In that shadow, pain and hope collided, giving birth to an aura of painful nostalgia, as if time itself paused for a moment. "Joanna, remember... You chose not to win... But to stop the pain from being passed on."

"Don't become that pain yourself."

Hyperion: his body exploded into shards of light, emanating a glow that seemed to challenge the encroaching darkness; its brilliant sparkle left a jarring emptiness, as if the battle had yet to fully conclude. Crius: swept into the dimension of constellations—lost without a direction, surrendering himself to the dark and unpredictable mysteries. Coeus: though still alive, his mind fragmented into thousands of conflicting logical paths, ensnared in an inextricable labyrinth of confusing thoughts. Iapetus: gravely wounded, yet his sword still blazed, a flame of struggle that refused to extinguish even in the direst of circumstances. Theia: her eyes blind—finding too many possibilities, losing grasp of a single, fundamental truth, her face reflected an unspoken confusion and chaos, as if calling for clarity amid uncertainty.

Only one stood tall amidst the turmoil,

Joanna, gazing into the void, feeling the weight of the decision she had made, the only hope that shone through the dense darkness. Every fiber of her being resonated with nostalgia, yearning for a past that now lingered only as a faint shadow, like a blurred dream gradually fading from memory.

Zeus: lies beneath a shattered sky, dark purple lightning weaving between swirling clouds as Astrapheon crumbles within its helicoid. Blood of the sun drips like tears from the fractured heavens, creating a chilling and dramatic tableau.

Poseidon: the trident of Thalassarchon is buried in the lost whirlpool, submerged in the dark, roiling waves, as if the ocean itself is lamenting, conveying profound and unbearable sorrow.

Hades: returns to the underworld, his mist dissipating, bringing a thick and piercing aroma of death, reminiscent of fresh blood evaporating in silence.

Kraken Ultima: transforms into a statue in the void, its face etched with eternal pain in form and color, frozen by the Spiral Joanna, which defies the emptiness without will, creating an invisible wave that permeates the melancholic universe, echoing in heart-wrenching silence.

The entire world is acutely aware:

it's not about who wins... but what has been lost. In the chilling silence, a profound sense of loss hangs heavy, like a deep wound that continues to gash, clenching the souls that remain in an unyielding grip.

Time now flows unevenly. Seconds slide into confusion, seemingly trapped in a random game, with pauses that feel endless where hope and fear collide noisily, creating a symphony of unease in the air.

Some regions can no longer distinguish between dawn and dusk. Darkness envelops the once-bright dawn, wrapping everything in a terrifying shroud of shadows that linger among empty homes and crumbling debris, as if time itself has come to a standstill.

Some cities are caught in the repetition of the same day. A monotonous atmosphere blankets the surroundings, with the thundering of identical footsteps echoing repeatedly, stirring a sense of despair in the hearts of those hurled into a tormenting cycle, as if trapped in an endless labyrinth of time.

Some places... are frozen forever. In an eternal stillness, the chill grips fiercely, biting to the bone, enveloping all hope for rebirth and new life like a gray fog that obscures the sunlight.

The Arkanum wizards found themselves unable to decipher the new glyphs that floated in the air, shimmering like dew caught in the dim light of the moon. Each glyph pulsated with unpredictable energy, emanating a mysterious aura that enveloped them. The Guardians of the Stones felt the tension rise, losing contact with the magical source, worry reflected on their faces shrouded in darkness. The world they once knew began to erode, transforming into dark shadows. The nexus of reality slowly faded away, leaving behind faint, shimmering traces, reminiscent of lost stars in the night sky.

The common folk... only knew one truth:

"The sun has shattered."

The heavens were now split with a dark crimson hue, as if signaling the suffering that engulfed the world beneath. Not only the sky, but also the very meaning of "tomorrow" began to waver, tossed to and fro in confusion and fear, like a piece of paper whisked away by a violent storm. ƒreewebɳovel.com

Amidst the ruins, Joanna clutched the shard of her Spiral, feeling the sharp edges prick her fingers, as if reminding her of the difficult choices she had made. She stood with great effort, appearing as though the world around her was attempting to drag her into a deep chasm of despair.

"I do not regret. But I must take responsibility."

"If I have shattered the world, I will weave it back together with these hands."

With fervent determination, Joanna stretched her arms wide, feeling a surge of energy filling every fiber of her being, creating gentle ripples in the air. Each movement felt alive, exploring the space around her with hope intensifying with each passing moment.

From the remnants of the Spiral Infinite Defiance,

she forged a new Spiral: a glimmer of light that seemed to dance with every motion, spreading renewal amid the suffocating pain.

"Spiral Vitae: Thread of Reconciliation," Joanna declared.

Magic was not meant for attack, even though the flames of intention blazed within her soul. It was not for destruction, despite the ruin surrounding her like a dark shadow. Instead, it was to reconnect what has been torn apart, igniting a new light in the midst of the thick darkness that threatened.

"I will create new laws. Not laws that force love to die, but laws that make choices meaningful again."

Joanna gazed at the darkened sky, feeling the weight of suffering pressing on her soul, as hope vibrated within the tense uncertainty. The Black Sun continued to rotate slowly, now calmer, like a breath taken after an explosion—a moment of silence flowing amidst the raging storm.

The remaining Titans approached slowly, their aura radiating courage and resolve. No words were spoken. Only a silent acknowledgment: they chose her. Not as the new Chronos, But as the weaver of the new world.

And from a distance, a muffled voice whispered a call from the fractures of time: the generations to come would be born into a world shaped by Joanna, a world cloaked in dark shadows and a new veil of light. Within it, love shimmered like a blazing star, while wounds writhed with a searing heat like an unquenchable ember.