The light didn't stabilize.
It fractured.
For the first time—
The circle felt… unstable.
Not broken—
But disturbed.
Feroz noticed it instantly.
"This is different."
Haroon's expression hardened.
"…yes."
Even Younus—
Silent.
Watching more carefully now.
The seven figures stepped forward—
Closer than before.
Not distant.
Not observing.
Present.
"…the third test," they spoke together,
"…is not about you."
Feroz's eyes narrowed.
"Then what is it about?"
Silence.
Then—
"…it is about what you are willing to lose."
The words didn't echo.
They settled.
Heavy.
Feroz didn't respond immediately.
Because he understood.
This wasn't power.
This was choice—
At a cost.
The ground beneath him shifted again.
But this time—
He didn't resist it.
He let it happen.
The world changed.
Not slowly.
Not gently.
Instantly.
Feroz stood—
In a place he knew.
Abbottabad.
The orphanage.
Roshan Orphanage.
But something was wrong.
The sky—
Dark.
Too dark.
The air—
Still.
Too still.
Feroz stepped forward.
The gate—
Broken.
The walls—
Damaged.
Burn marks across the surface.
His heartbeat slowed.
"…no."
He moved faster.
Through the courtyard.
Through the hall.
Silence.
No children.
No voices.
No life.
Then—
He saw her.
Mrs Aliya.
On the ground.
Weak.
Injured.
Barely conscious.
Feroz dropped to his knees beside her.
"Mrs Aliya!"
Her eyes opened slowly.
"…Feroz…"
Her voice—
Faint.
"What happened?" he asked urgently.
"They came…" she whispered.
Feroz's expression darkened.
"Who?"
She didn't answer.
Because she didn't need to.
He already knew.
Freemasons.
Zarqaan.
The hunt.
"They're looking for you…" she said weakly.
Feroz clenched his fists.
"I won't let them touch you."
A voice echoed—
Cold.
"You don't get to decide that."
Feroz turned instantly.
A figure stood at the entrance.
Not Zarqaan.
Someone else.
Calm.
Watching.
Waiting.
Feroz stepped forward.
"Stay away from her."
The man smiled slightly.
"Then choose."
Feroz froze.
"…what?"
The man raised his hand.
The air behind him distorted.
Two paths formed.
One—
Light.
One—
Dark.
"…save her," the voice said,
"…or protect your power."
Feroz's mind sharpened instantly.
"What does that mean?"
The answer came without hesitation.
"If you use your full power now…"
"…you will save her."
A pause.
"…but you will lose control of it forever."
Silence.
"…and if I don't?"
"…she dies."
The words landed.
Heavy.
Final.
Feroz didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Because this—
Was real.
Not illusion.
Not memory.
Choice.
Haroon's voice echoed faintly—
From somewhere beyond—
"Every power has a cost."
Younus's voice followed—
"Balance is not given… it is chosen."
Feroz looked at Mrs Aliya.
Weak.
Dying.
The only person—
Who protected him.
Who believed in him.
Then—
He looked at his hands.
The power.
The future.
The fight ahead.
Everything depended on it.
Everything could end—
Here.
Feroz closed his eyes.
For a moment—
There was nothing.
No voices.
No pressure.
No fear.
Then—
He opened them.
Clear.
Resolved.
"I choose…"
The air held still.
"…her."
The moment shattered.
Power exploded from him.
Not controlled.
Not balanced.
Raw.
Pure.
The ground cracked.
The walls trembled.
The air screamed.
Feroz didn't stop it.
He let it out.
Everything.
The man in front—
Gone.
Erased by force.
The darkness—
Destroyed.
Mrs Aliya—
Safe.
The world—
Breaking.
Feroz fell to his knees.
Breathing heavily.
His hands—
Shaking.
The power—
Unstable.
Wild.
Uncontrolled.
"…what did you do…" a distant voice whispered.
The world collapsed.
The orphanage—
Gone.
The circle returned.
But something was wrong.
Feroz could feel it instantly.
The energy inside him—
Different.
Unstable.
Uncontrolled.
Haroon stepped forward quickly.
"…Feroz."
Younus didn't speak.
The seven figures—
Silent.
Watching.
Measuring.
"…you chose," one of them finally said.
Feroz looked up.
"Yes."
"…and you accepted the cost."
Feroz didn't respond.
Because he could feel it.
The control he built—
Gone.
Replaced by something heavier.
Stronger.
But dangerous.
"…most choose power," the voice continued.
"…you chose loss."
A pause.
"…and that… changes everything."
The circle dimmed.
But this time—
Not calmly.
Uncertain.
"…the test is complete."
Feroz stood slowly.
Unsteady.
Different.
Haroon's voice was low—
Concerned.
"…you shouldn't have done that."
Feroz looked at him.
"I had to."
Younus finally spoke—
"…no."
A pause.
"…you chose to."
Silence.
Heavy.
Real.
And in that moment—
Feroz understood something deeper than before.
Power was not just about control.
Not just about fear.
But sacrifice.
And now—
He had crossed a line—
That could not be undone.
Far away—
Unseen—
In the shadows—
A familiar presence stirred.
Watching.
Smiling.
Zarqaan Khan.
"…now he's ready."