đź“ś READER RULES
"A Realm Where Cowards Get Lost Twice"
1. This story uses a system structure.
Not a tax system, not a coding system— a choice-based survival system.
And every choice has consequences. (Yes, even the stupid ones.)
2. You must be as honorable as a grandmaster in desert chess.
Once your finger touches a pawn—no takebacks.
No crying. No "I didn't mean it."
Live with your decision.
3. Do NOT read all paths.
You're not an omniscient deity. Choose one route and stay loyal.
If you peek at the others, the jinn will judge your commitment issues.
The protagonist's fate is now in your hands.
If they die, that's between you and your conscience.
Do not DM the author at 2 a.m. to blame the plot twist.
5. Confused? Terrified? Regretting your choices?
Perfect.
That means the system works.
Proceed.
6. You may laugh, scream, or re-evaluate your life choices.
You may NOT go back and redo the chapter.
This is not a dating sim.
This is destiny—with lag.
***
Rafi almost dropped to his knees when the glass-forest slowly parted, revealing two paths he'd never seen before. His breath came in ragged bursts; his shoulders throbbed from carrying Sahim for too long. His back still burned from the threat chasing them from behind.
The two paths opened in silence, waiting.
No signs.
No promises of safety.
Just quiet—a quiet that made his heartbeat even more chaotic.
Rafi swallowed, his gaze shifting left and right, eyes almost brimming.
"Ya Rabb… whichever path it is… please don't let it be the wrong one…"
He swallowed again, drew a trembling breath—
and chose.
His heart pounded harder than in the previous chapter of their ordeal.
"Bro…" Sahim's voice was hoarse, half-conscious.
"If we die here… tell Amina I was actually good at running, not just good at fainting…"
Rafi's lips twisted. Panicking, but still with a scrap of humor left in him. He chose left.
"Bismillah… Al-Mashraqat. Let this light not be funeral lighting."
He carried Sahim forward.
The very first step felt like coming home after a long rain. The ground—or whatever this was—reflected a gentle glow, warm like a mosque floor right before Maghrib. Each footfall sent a tiny, calming vibration up his body, rhythmic, as if the world itself were whispering dhikr.
Sahim lifted his face, eyes widening like a child watching fireworks for the first time.
"YA RABB… if Paradise had a trailer, it would look like this," he breathed.
Rafi didn't answer. But from the way his shoulders slowly relaxed, Sahim knew his friend was starting to believe they were—maybe—safe.
Particles of light drifted down from above like golden snow.
The wind stroked their cheeks gently, carrying a sweet scent from nowhere.
Crystal-plants bent politely as they passed, as if greeting them.
Everything… felt right.
At the end of the path, someone appeared. Sahim's breath stopped. The man—mid-forties, warm brown skin, neat beard, loose travel clothes—raised a hand.
"Assalamu'alaikum! Hey! You're from the tour group, right?"
His voice… was human.
Very human.
No strange echo. No non-human vibration. No glitch.
Sahim grabbed Rafi's arm.
"Bro… Bro… a person. A PERSON. We found a PERSON!"
The man came closer, relief on his face.
"Name's Karim. I got lost here too… a long time ago.Â
 But I know the way out. Come on, before Zurq's light drops completely."
Sahim wanted to cry. For the first time since they'd fallen into this alien world… things made sense. Karim walked ahead of them, talking as he brushed aside crystal branches.
"Lots of people wander in here by accident.
But Al-Mashraqat is definitely the safest route.
Never choose the right one. Dhul-Wujūd forest… swallows light.
No one comes back from there."
Rafi nodded quickly, like a schoolboy being reprimanded by his ustadh. Sahim—still shaking—snuck photos of Karim's back once or twice.
"Bro… he shows up on camera… so he's real, right? REAL, yeah?"
Karim turned and laughed.
"Of course I'm real. You'll go home, trust me."
Sahim's heart thawed. They followed Karim up a small rise that formed a bridge of light. At the top… the world broke open into something completely familiar.
Asphalt.
Palm trees.
Low buildings on the city outskirts.
The hot Riyadh air Sahim had known since he was a child.
And in the distance—Police sirens.
Sahim choked.
"Rafi… that… that's home… Bro, that's my house…"
Police officers ran toward them.
"Alhamdulillah! We finally found the two missing young men!"
"Hurry! They're dehydrated!"
Sahim was still shaking. His hands were cold, his breath unsteady, his eyes red from fear that hadn't fully drained out. His body still didn't entirely believe they were no longer being chased by glass-fanged creatures.
He just wanted to sit. Or faint. Or both. But as the ambulance doors closed and white light flooded his face…His phone started to vibrate.
Softly at first.
Then harder.
Then like it wanted to explode.
The screen lit up—full signal. Sahim stared blankly, his brain five seconds late to process. Notifications poured in:
- DMs that wouldn't stop
- Comments raining like meteor showers
- Views shooting up like a bugStory mentions from big accounts
He blinked slowly.
"Uh… Bro…?"
His voice was hoarse, half-traumatized, half dazed.
"All the videos I recorded in… that place… uploaded. All of them."
Rafi turned with a mental facepalm.
"Now?! After we almost died?!"
Sahim stared at the endlessly buzzing screen, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
"I'm trending, bro… actually trending…"
Then, softly—resigned—like someone who just survived a major disaster:
"…Ya Allah… I can finally rest…"
Rafi was pulled onto a stretcher, eyes filling as a woman sprinted toward them from afar.
"Rafi! Ya Allah, Rafi!"
That was… his Ummi. Really her.
Her sweat.
Her voice.
The way she hugged him.
Everything… real.
Sahim smiled faintly, closing his eyes.
"We made it, Bro… we really made it… Alhamdulillah," he sobbed as tears streamed down.
The ambulance doors shut—and Karim, standing by the roadside, slowly lifted his face. That face… cracked.
Not like a shattered illusion—more like a porcelain mask peeling away bit by bit.
Then a little more.
And a little more.
The Police at the roadside melted. Their shoulders stretched, legs bending where no joints should exist, the light in their eyes freezing over white. The siren wail twisted into a high-then-low pitch like a broken cassette tape.
Rafi and Sahim saw none of it.
The ambulance doors were already closed.
Karim smiled… with a mouth that was far too wide.
"Humans always believe what they want to believe."
ZURQ's green light slowly dipped, turning paler.
SAFRA began to rise.
And slowly—not dramatically, not loudly—
fine cracks spread across the surface of the "light."
The crystals began to lose the shape of "houses"; their colors dripped downward like wet paint. And behind them—a space yawned open like a cave of light.
Inside, dozens of creatures sat in a circle.
Not poised to attack.
Not moving.
Not aware.
They sat slumped against each other, necks drooping, faces turned toward the light like people hypnotized by a lullaby. Some wore empty smiles. Some reached out toward "shadows" that were no longer there. One creature even wiped away nonexistent tears, as if missing someone from its own hallucinated world.
Rafi froze.
Sahim swallowed.
"Bro… they're… seeing something too," Sahim whispered, half afraid, half in awe.
"Like… they're all sharing a sweet dream."
And just as SAFRA rose and ZURQ's green glow faded, Sahim swallowed again.
"Bro… we're… not trending to humans, are we?"
Rafi gripped his arm tightly.
Silence.
He drew the deepest breath of the day.
"Bro…"
"Yeah?"
"The exit… isn't here."
—To be Continued—