Silence.
For the first time in days—
there was no noise inside Feroz's head.
No whispers.
No pressure.
Nothing.
Just silence.
Feroz stood frozen.
The feeling was so strange that it almost felt wrong.
Slowly, he touched the side of his head.
Nothing.
The noise was truly gone.
He looked at the newcomer.
"...what did you do?"
The man shook his head.
"I didn't do anything."
"Then why did it stop?"
The newcomer glanced toward Vaheen.
Because now—
for the first time—
the figure had a name.
Vaheen remained perfectly still.
Watching.
Waiting.
The man looked back at Feroz.
"Because it heard its own name."
Nobody spoke.
Not even Salman.
The old man looked thoughtful now.
As if he had just learned something important.
Haya crossed her arms.
"You know far too much about this."
The newcomer smiled faintly.
"Probably."
That answer annoyed everyone.
Especially Haroon, if he had been there.
Feroz took a step forward.
"Who are you?"
The man became quiet.
For a few moments, he simply stared into the fog.
Then finally answered.
"My name is Rehan."
The name sounded ordinary.
Too ordinary.
For someone who had apparently died twenty years ago.
The old man looked at him carefully.
"You still haven't explained how you're alive."
Rehan laughed softly.
"I was hoping you'd stop asking."
"You hoped wrong."
Even Haya smiled slightly at that.
For the first time, the tension eased.
Just a little.
Then suddenly—
Vaheen moved.
Everyone became alert instantly.
The figure slowly turned toward the fog ahead.
Not behind them.
Ahead.
The direction of the crossroads.
Rehan's expression immediately darkened.
"That's not good."
Feroz looked at him.
"What now?"
Rehan pointed toward Vaheen.
"He's reacting."
The figure took a single step forward.
Then another.
Like something was calling it.
Or guiding it.
Salman stood up immediately.
"We need to move."
The old man nodded.
"Now."
Feroz frowned.
"Move where?"
"The crossroads."
The answer came from Rehan.
"We don't have time anymore."
The road beneath them suddenly trembled.
Hard.
Much harder than before.
Cracks spread across the stone path.
The fog twisted unnaturally.
Haya nearly lost her balance.
"What was that?"
Rehan looked toward the horizon.
And for the first time—
he looked genuinely worried.
"The roads are merging."
Nobody liked the sound of that.
Feroz looked ahead.
Far through the fog—
he could see faint lights.
Three of them.
Very distant.
But definitely there.
Three glowing points.
Standing apart from each other.
His chest tightened.
The crossroads.
Meanwhile—
back at the valley—
Younus carefully brushed dirt away from the ancient symbol.
More markings appeared underneath.
Haroon crouched beside him.
"What is it?"
Younus didn't answer immediately.
His expression had changed.
Haroon noticed.
"What?"
Younus slowly looked up.
"Qadir found the way."
Silence.
Haroon's eyes widened.
"What way?"
Younus pointed at the markings.
"A path into the threshold."
Ibn Younus stepped closer.
"Can we use it?"
Younus studied the symbols carefully.
Then nodded.
"Maybe."
That single word filled Haroon with hope.
For the first time since Feroz left—
there was a real chance of reaching him.
Back on the shifting road—
Feroz and the others had already started moving.
The fog parted slowly around them.
The three distant lights remained visible.
Growing slightly brighter with every step.
Nobody talked much.
Everyone seemed focused.
Even Vaheen.
For once—
the figure wasn't watching Feroz.
It was watching the crossroads.
And somehow—
that worried Feroz more than anything else.
After nearly an hour of walking—
the group reached the top of a small hill.
And there—
for the first time—
they saw the crossroads clearly.
Three roads.
Three directions.
Three glowing stone gateways standing in the distance.
Each one different.
Each one waiting.
Feroz stopped.
His heart beating faster.
Because deep inside—
he somehow knew.
One of those roads would change everything.