The night was quiet.
Only the sound of the wind moved through the village.
Feroz stared at Sameer.
His father's name.
The stranger knew his father's name too.
"Tell me exactly what happened."
Sameer nodded.
He sat down across from Feroz.
For a moment, he seemed unsure where to begin.
Then he took a deep breath.
"It was about three months ago."
Feroz listened carefully.
"I was traveling between villages, looking for information about my father."
Sameer looked toward the dark horizon.
"I had been doing it for years."
A pause.
"Most people didn't know anything."
"Or they didn't want to tell me."
Feroz understood that feeling.
Far too well.
"Then one night, I met him."
"The stranger?"
Sameer nodded.
"The stranger."
His voice grew quieter.
"I never saw his face."
"He wore a grey cloak."
"The hood never moved."
Feroz immediately remembered Haroon.
The grey-haired man.
But this didn't feel right.
Haroon would have revealed himself.
And Sameer didn't seem to recognize the name.
"What did he say?"
Sameer frowned.
Trying to remember.
"Not much."
A pause.
"He asked me why I was searching."
"And?"
"I told him about my father."
"What happened next?"
Sameer's expression changed.
Almost uncomfortable.
"He asked me a question."
"What question?"
Sameer looked directly at Feroz.
"He asked me whether I wanted the truth..."
A pause.
"...or comfort."
The words hit harder than expected.
Because they sounded familiar.
Like something Yusuf might have said.
Or Younus.
Or Ibn Younus.
The kind of question that never had an easy answer.
"What did you say?"
Sameer laughed softly.
"I told him I wanted both."
For the first time that night—
Feroz smiled.
"Fair answer."
"It wasn't."
Sameer shook his head.
"He said nobody gets both."
The smile disappeared.
That sounded more like the hidden world.
Cruel.
But honest.
Then Sameer continued.
"Before he left, he told me to come here."
Feroz waited.
"And then?"
Sameer's voice dropped.
"He said something else."
The atmosphere changed.
Immediately.
Feroz could feel it.
"What?"
Sameer swallowed.
Then repeated the exact words.
"When you find Feroz Khan..."
A pause.
"...tell him the debt is waking up."
Silence.
Complete silence.
The wind seemed to stop.
Feroz felt his chest tighten.
Debt.
Again.
The word had followed him for years.
The cave.
The visions.
The stone tree.
Qadir's sacrifice.
The ancient hall.
Everything eventually returned to the same thing.
Debt.
"What else?"
Sameer shook his head.
"Nothing."
Then he hesitated.
"No."
Another pause.
"There was one more thing."
Feroz immediately focused.
"What?"
Sameer's expression darkened.
"He mentioned your father."
The silence returned.
"He said..."
Sameer looked uncomfortable.
As if he wasn't sure he should say it.
Then finally:
"Qadir Khan failed once."
Feroz froze.
Those words felt wrong.
Completely wrong.
Failed?
Failed what?
His father had sacrificed everything.
Protected him.
Hidden him.
Kept him alive.
How was that failure?
Before Feroz could ask another question—
something happened.
The mark on his arm suddenly burned.
Not painfully.
But intensely.
Golden light spread beneath his sleeve.
Feroz immediately stood.
"What is it?" Sameer asked.
The mark grew brighter.
Brighter.
Then suddenly—
the book beside Feroz opened by itself.
Pages flipping rapidly.
One after another.
Faster.
Faster.
Until they stopped.
A single page remained open.
Golden words appeared.
Not slowly this time.
Instantly.
As if they had been waiting.
Feroz stared at them.
So did Sameer.
The message was short.
Only one sentence.
"The first failure was not the last."
Silence.
Neither of them spoke.
Because neither understood what it meant.
But one thing was becoming clear.
The book wasn't reacting randomly.
It was responding to specific things.
Specific names.
Specific truths.
Rahim.
Qadir.
The debt.
They were all connected.
Somehow.
And somewhere far away—
on a lonely mountain road—
the traveler known as Rahim stopped once again.
He looked toward the distant sky.
Toward a place he could not see.
Then he quietly smiled.
Not because things were going according to plan.
Because after many years—
the right questions were finally being asked.