The light did not blind him.
It focused him.
Every pillar in the circle glowed—
Not wildly—
But precisely.
Controlled.
Measured.
Like everything in this place.
Feroz stood at the center.
Still.
Breathing steady.
Watching.
Waiting.
The seven figures did not move.
But their presence—
Pressed against him.
Not attacking.
Not threatening.
Evaluating.
The first voice spoke—
"Your first test is simple."
Feroz didn't respond.
He understood now—
Nothing here was simple.
The ground beneath his feet shifted.
Softly.
Then—
It disappeared.
Not physically—
But perceptually.
The world around him faded—
But this time—
It didn't break.
It replaced itself.
Feroz stood still—
But he was no longer in the circle.
He felt it instantly.
The air—
Different.
The weight—
Different.
Even the silence—
Changed.
He looked around.
A narrow street.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
His breath caught.
"…Multan."
The heat.
The dust.
The broken paths.
It was perfect.
Not memory—
Recreation.
Haroon.
Younus.
The circle—
Gone.
Feroz stood alone.
Then—
He saw him.
A boy.
Thin.
Wounded.
Running.
Seventeen.
Bleeding.
Hungry.
Desperate.
Feroz froze.
"…me."
The boy didn't see him.
He ran past—
Clutching stolen food.
The same moment.
The same night.
Feroz's chest tightened.
"This already happened…"
The voice of the Circle echoed—
Everywhere—
Nowhere—
"…and yet you are here again."
Feroz clenched his fists.
"What's the test?"
Silence.
Then—
"…watch."
Feroz didn't move.
He followed—
Not physically—
But through the moment.
The boy reached the shack.
Collapsed.
Started eating.
Hands shaking.
Starving.
Broken.
Feroz felt everything.
Not as memory—
As reality.
The hunger.
The pain.
The loneliness.
Every second—
Real again.
"…I survived this," Feroz whispered.
"…yes," the voice replied.
A pause.
"…but not completely."
Feroz frowned.
"What does that mean?"
The scene shifted slightly.
The boy finished eating.
Lay down.
His wound—
Still open.
Untreated.
Ignored.
The same mistake.
The same suffering.
Feroz stepped forward.
"I need to help him."
"…why?" the voice asked.
Feroz stopped.
"Because he's me."
A pause.
"…then why didn't you help him before?"
That question—
Cut deep.
Feroz had no answer.
He endured.
That was all.
The boy groaned in pain.
Feroz stepped closer.
His hand lifted—
Stopped.
"…can I change this?" he asked.
"…that is the test."
Feroz's eyes sharpened.
"If I change this… I change myself."
"…yes."
"…and if I don't?"
"…then you remain what you are."
Feroz looked at the boy again.
The pain.
The weakness.
The loneliness.
Everything that made him.
Everything he hated.
Voices echoed in his mind—
"You held it."
"You didn't win either."
"I am the end you refused to accept."
Feroz took a deep breath.
"This moment made me who I am."
"…and yet you want to change it."
"Yes."
"…why?"
Feroz's voice lowered—
"Because surviving isn't enough."
The air shifted.
The test—
Responding.
Feroz stepped forward.
This time—
No hesitation.
He knelt beside the boy.
His younger self.
Bleeding.
Broken.
Carefully—
He tore cloth.
Wrapped the wound.
Tight.
Precise.
The boy stirred slightly—
But didn't wake.
Feroz moved the food closer.
Easier to reach.
Safer.
Then he paused.
Looking at himself.
"…I didn't have to suffer that much."
"…no," the voice replied.
"…but that suffering made you stronger."
Feroz shook his head.
"No."
"It made me survive."
Silence.
"…what is the difference?"
Feroz stood.
Eyes clear.
"Survival is not strength."
Silence deepened.
"Strength…"
"…is choosing not to suffer when you don't have to."
The world trembled.
The scene flickered.
The Circle—
Reacting.
"…you are rewriting the weight."
Feroz said nothing.
Because something inside him—
Changed.
Not power.
Understanding.
The scene faded.
The street.
The shack.
The boy—
Gone.
Calmly.
Like a decision accepted.
Feroz stood again—
In the circle.
The pillars glowing.
The seven figures watching.
Haroon and Younus reappeared—
Both focused on him.
"…you changed something," Haroon said.
"Yes."
"What did you learn?" Younus asked.
Feroz looked at his hands.
"That pain is not necessary to become strong."
Silence.
"…most fail this test," one figure said.
"Why?"
"…because they cling to their suffering."
A pause.
"…you let yours go."
The circle dimmed slightly.
Not ending—
Transitioning.
Feroz felt it.
"That was just the first test."
"…yes," the seven voices answered.
Feroz took a steady breath.
"Then what's next?"
The air grew heavier.
The light darkened.
Sharpened.
"…now…"
A pause.
"…we test what you fear becoming."
Feroz didn't flinch.
But deep inside—
Something moved.
Because he already knew.
The figure.
The future.
The Devil.
And this time—
He wouldn't just face it.
He would decide—
Whether to become it.