Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 392 The City That Stopped Beating

The sky above the ruins of Ghel-Arkoth—an ancient machine city buried by time—was rust-colored, resembling blood that had long since congealed on its surface. Pillars of smoke rose from the cracks in the earth, and giant, rusted gears hung from the ceiling of the ancient cave once known as Architecture of the Under Ages. This place was the heart of mechanical magic technology from the ancient world, but now only the sounds of creaking and empty steam remained. Each abandoned temple seemed to whisper in the silence, narrating the rise and fall that filled their timelines.

Rui stepped slowly, iron dust clinging to her soles, emphasizing the helplessness in a place that was once bustling with activity. In his left hand, the Spiral relic still pulsed weakly, feeling like a heartbeat guiding him. Yet, in the suffocating quiet, he sensed a deeper rhythm, as if each of his steps were a gear in a colossal machine that had lost its way. Feeling that restlessness, he knew there was more than just that moving within him.

Qayin was awakening.

"You approach the place where I was forgotten," the voice growled, "You know what it means." In her heart, Rui felt it; the tug between the past and the future, a reminder that yesterday and tomorrow depended on her choices in the present moment, as if she was the bridge between two conflicting eras.

Rui did not reply. She simply continued to walk along the cracked steel pathway, passing the skeletal remains of half-collapsed buildings that once transported magic through cylindrical channels and golden pipes. Every second felt like a bullet flying by, turning the wheel of time that brought him to the brink of decision. Would he step into the history that devoured him, or turn back, leaving behind the shadows of the past that constantly haunted his steps?

The walls of this city were adorned with carvings shaped like cylinders and tiered circles, symbols of an ancient era when humanity tried to conquer time not with prayers, but with logic and gears. On one of the layers of the main pillar, Rui saw a carving that took the form of a human face—transforming into a clock, then into ashes, creating a narrative about the unavoidable cycle of time. That face recorded longing and fear, a reminder that time is both a prison and a liberator. Beneath it, an inscription in ancient letters read:

"Those who create time will be consumed by time."

"This place knows you," Rui whispered to the voice within her, feeling a vibration that touched her soul. "Or perhaps... this place knows me. It seems as if every corner of the city absorbs its essence, weaving a fate intertwined with the threads of time, connecting it to all the possibilities that exist."

"This city was built by hands that defy fate. They forged their own paths, just like you," she said, her voice echoing like the clash of gears colliding within a machine. It was clear that this place was an endless labyrinth of hope and regret.

"And they were destroyed," she replied, her heart racing, spinning amidst a vision laden with sorrow. Inside him, regret surged like waves upon the shore, crashing against the fragile rocks of hope.

"Not by me. But by unfinished choices," the voice added, a hint of anger lacing its grip on the darkness. Each word pierced Rui's soul, compelling him to reflect once more.

Rui sensed something stirring within her, like a broken clock mechanism striving to function again. At the heart of the city, there was energy calling to her; a mysterious magnet that made her reluctant to move away. He stepped forward, guided not by logic, but by something deeper—an instinct, or perhaps... the memories of Qayin, swirling in his mind like the wheel of time tirelessly attempting to rewind.

He arrived at the center of Ghel-Arkoth: a round room with a metal dome towering like a spire, shimmering with a mist of emotions that enveloped everything. In its center stood The Harmonious Tower, a colossal clock tower with hands that had long ceased to tick, symbolizing a torturous silence. The clock had four hands, all pointing towards him, as if waiting for a decision that would freeze this moment forever.

As Rui stepped closer, his Spiral relic reacted—not with light, but with an absolute silence, like words trapped between sound waves. The nearer he got, the more palpable it became: an invisible pull affirming his presence in this space.

"This is where I am bound," the voice revealed, flowing like mist that obscured memories. Each word anchored a heavy feeling in her chest, as if that moment was the culmination of a long journey.

"I know," Rui replied, her voice trembling like a falling star unable to nurture hope.

"If you drive that relic into the center of the floor... I will disappear," the statement sent Rui's heart racing, caught in a conflict between darkness and light, ignoring the whisper of his inner voice urging him to turn away.

"And with you, will I also disappear?" she asked, as silence enveloped her, like a shadow darkening the retreating hope.

The stillness.

Qayin did not respond, leaving Rui trapped between the tic-tac of the past and an uncertain future.

And Rui finally understood: all along, there was no difference between herself and Qayin. He was not merely a vessel; he was a shard of that entity—perhaps the last fragment left of the will once known as Qayin. The space around him seemed to vibrate, as if the heart of the ancient city of Ghel-Arkoth was pumping the pulse of time that had long stopped. A cold wind blew, carrying the scent of metal and swirling distant memories like gears forced to turn in an old machine. In that silence, Rui's thoughts spiraled, tempting his soul with visions of potential and danger.

Suddenly, the clock tower hummed. The sound of old wheels turning echoed. From above, a colossal mechanical figure descended—like a clockwork doll, its eyes glowing red with energy, and its hands grasping a staff adorned with a split spiral symbol. Every second felt like time was fighting against him, building tension and dilemma within Rui, reminding him of the pressure of the decisions he faced, not just for himself but for the balance of the world.

The entity spoke:

"You have come, heir of the Spiral Qayin. I am Vardashti, the Keeper of the Last Moment." The voice resonated like the chime of metal on an ancient clock, echoing through the stone-paved corridors that seemed to hold the footsteps of countless souls. There was a sacred pressure in each word, challenging his spirit to contemplate what it truly means to be human. "My purpose is to assess: will the will you inherit continue, or will it stop here, in the midst of a history that has come to a halt?"

Rui fell silent. In the darkness, her mind wandered, recalling the intricate history of Ghel-Arkoth, where every machine served not only to sustain life but to reveal whether this search for existence would lead her toward freedom or eternal shackles.

"Will you release Qayin and allow the world to be freed?"

"Or will you hold onto him... and accept that you are not human, not a curse, but a will that walks?" In the silent roar of the night wind, it felt as if time itself drew a breath. Rui asked softly, "What will happen if I kill Qayin?" In the dim glow of the lights painting the streets of Ghel-Arkoth with strokes of gold and silver, a mechanical heart pulsed within his chest; a reminder of what was lost. This body would crumble. But the world would be saved from the potential destruction of the Fourth Spiral." Those words spun like a dislodged gear, continuously whirling in his mind. "And what if I don't kill him?" His inner voice trembled, straining to lift the burden that pressed heavier. "You will become yourself.

But the world will see the shadow of Qayin in every step you take. You will walk upon the cracks of the world, and time will hasten its destruction. Perhaps this world is not just about choices, but also about the traces left behind, about the remnants that crawl along the fabric of time. Rui fell to his knees. His soul was torn, powerless against the cacophony swirling in his mind. He did not cry. Yet his body trembled violently. He felt the weight of every second around him, pressing down, demanding. "Is... all this struggle merely to decide whether I am worthy of life?" Amidst the tangled rafia of confusion, his mind conjured fragments of time, yearning for answers yet confronted by an endless silence. Qayin responded not with a threat, but with a voice full of pain:

"I am not asking you to become me. But if I must vanish... then you must also be ready to step forward without me," Qayin's voice resonated with a deep sadness.

"But I do not know who I am without you," Rui admitted, vulnerability evident in her voice.

"That is the Spiral, Rui. It is not a straight line leading to the light. It is a circle of wounds that always returns to the beginning—and each time, you must choose anew."

Rui gazed at his trembling hands, as if they were connected to the ticking of time swirling around him; each second slapped him like a sharp wind in the ancient streets of Ghel-Arkoth. He recalled every battle, every moment of solitude, and all the unspoken words tangled between the wheels of time and bitter memories. His thoughts drifted, ensnared in a labyrinth of recollections, as though the old clock mechanism in the corner of the city heard his whispers, reminding him of every choice that brought him to this moment. And he knew...

If he let go of Qayin, then everything that shaped him would also vanish, leaving him a mere fragment of the unyielding mechanics of time, lost amidst the chaotic flow that carried everything away.

The clock entity, Vardashti, lowered its spiral staff before Rui, emitting a rumbling sound as if time itself were calling him.

"Plant your Spiral relic here, and the decision will become real."

Rui stood up slowly, like a machine creaking in the tense silence.

She grasped the relic, sensing the unison of power and paralysis, as if facing gears biting into one another within an uncertain time machine.

His steps were slow, each footfall creating a metallic crackle against the damp floor of the old city. One by one, the wheels on the walls began to move, turning like the heartbeat of a machine struggling to live amidst the hollow silence.

The last moments spun both backward and forward, creating the illusion of time trapped in an endless cycle. Qayin remained silent, like a shadow stored in the dark recesses of time.

Rui closed her eyes, striving to grasp the remnants of fading strength. And...

She thrust the artifact into the metal floor, piercing the cold surface that seemed to possess a soul, sinking into the chaotic evacuation of history. Light did not explode; instead, it flowed like the stream of time that had halted, creating unimaginable change for the city and for himself.

There was no great explosion. No screams echoed. Only the seconds that stopped, affirming the presence of every felt moment. The entire city fell into total silence, as if awaiting pivotal moments that would forever alter its fate.

The clock in the tower chimed once, loud and clear, a sound reminiscent of eternity. Then its hands moved. Not forward, but inward, redirecting fate in an unexpected direction.

Rui awakened amidst peace and complexity, squeezed by the conflicting dimensions of his inner self. He was still alive, trapped in the maze of his own thoughts. Yet... he knew something had changed, something deeper than a mere flash of light.

Qayin is not entirely gone; he is trapped in the relics of memories, within each wrinkle of time that has been pushed aside. However... he no longer resides within himself. He is neither a spirit nor a force, nor a parasite, but rather a part of an ancient and mysterious machine that drives his soul.

He is now part of his very bones, flowing through every liferocket of time.

Silent. Dead. Yet still united, like two interlocking cogs in a complex mechanism. Vardashti gazes at Rui and says in a calm voice that resonates with cosmic echoes:

"You chose not to kill Qayin, but to accept that you cannot kill a part of yourself. Thus, the Spiral has chosen you again, like an inescapable vortex of time."

"From today onward, you are a Spiralwalker—an explorer carrying unfinished and unredeemable will, yet still moving forward; as if the time machine itself guides her to an undetermined destination."

"You are a Spiralwalker—an explorer carrying unfinished and unredeemable will, yet still moving forward; as if the time machine itself guides him to an undetermined destination."

Rui leaves Ghel-Arkoth with slow but steady steps, each stride echoing the desires and doubts that continue to swirl in her mind.

Not all curses can be broken. But some can be endured, woven tightly into the thread of time.

And perhaps...

That is enough in this unpredictable flow of the machine.