The question stayed in the air.
Quiet.
Heavy.
The old man watched Feroz carefully.
"...has it shown you the tree yet?"
Feroz didn't answer immediately.
Because the moment he heard those words—
his chest tightened.
The black tree.
The dead future.
The body beneath it.
The silence around it.
He had seen it too many times already.
Slowly—
he nodded.
The old man's expression changed slightly.
Not surprise.
Concern.
"...then the connection is deeper than I thought."
Haya looked between them.
"You've seen it too?"
The old man stayed quiet for a moment.
Then:
"Everyone who crosses far enough sees it eventually."
Feroz frowned.
"What is it?"
The old man looked toward the fog ahead.
"The center."
That answer explained almost nothing.
Feroz stepped forward slightly.
"Center of what?"
The old man looked back at him.
"The place where separation ends."
Silence.
The noise inside Feroz's head shifted again after hearing those words.
Not louder.
Closer.
The strange figure beside him tilted its head slightly.
Almost reacting to the conversation.
Haya noticed immediately.
"It responds whenever the tree is mentioned."
The old man nodded once.
"Because it was born there."
The atmosphere instantly became heavier.
Feroz stared at the figure again.
For the first time—
he noticed something horrifying.
The shape behind its face sometimes resembled the older version of himself from the visions.
Only for seconds.
Then it changed again.
Feroz immediately looked away.
The old man noticed.
"You're starting to recognize it faster now."
Feroz's voice lowered.
"...that's bad, right?"
The old man didn't answer immediately.
Then finally:
"It depends on whether you understand the difference between connection and surrender."
Again—
simple words.
Complicated meaning.
Feroz was starting to hate that.
The old man calmly poured more tea into his cup.
Then pointed toward the stone beside him.
"Sit."
Feroz hesitated.
Then slowly sat across from him while Haya remained standing nearby.
The strange figure stayed behind Feroz silently.
Watching everything.
The old man studied him carefully.
"Tell me exactly what happens before the visions start."
Feroz thought for a moment.
"...pressure."
"And?"
"...the noise gets louder."
The old man nodded slightly.
"What else?"
Feroz hesitated again.
Then quietly:
"...sometimes I feel like something is remembering things before I do."
The old man's eyes narrowed slightly.
That answer clearly mattered.
Haya noticed immediately.
"What does that mean?"
The old man exhaled slowly.
"It means the threshold already recognizes him."
Silence.
Feroz looked confused.
"...recognizes me from where?"
The old man looked directly into his eyes.
"That's the dangerous question."
The noise suddenly spiked sharply inside Feroz's head.
Instantly.
Violently.
He grabbed the side of his head hard.
The world around him distorted.
The fog disappeared.
Darkness replaced everything.
And suddenly—
he was somewhere else again.
The tree stood before him.
Massive.
Endless.
Its black branches stretched across a sky that looked broken.
The ground beneath him felt cold.
Dead.
Silent.
Feroz slowly looked around.
No valley.
No Haya.
No old man.
Nothing.
Then—
footsteps.
Someone was standing beneath the tree.
Facing away from him.
Tall.
Still.
Wearing dark clothes.
Feroz's breathing slowed.
Because even before the figure turned—
he already knew.
It was him.
Older.
The same version from the previous visions.
But this time—
something was different.
The older Feroz looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally empty.
Like every feeling had been slowly removed from him over years.
The older version finally turned slightly.
And for the first time—
spoke directly to him.
"...you're getting closer too fast."
Feroz froze.
Because the voice sounded exactly like his own.
"You can see me now?" Feroz asked quietly.
The older version gave a faint nod.
"For short periods."
Feroz looked around nervously.
"What is this place?"
The older Feroz stared at the tree silently for several seconds.
Then answered:
"...the last stable point."
That answer made no sense.
Feroz stepped closer.
"Are you real?"
A long silence followed.
Then finally:
"I was."
Those words hit harder than anything else.
Feroz felt fear rising again.
Real fear.
And instantly—
the older version looked toward him sharply.
"Stop."
Feroz froze.
"If fear controls you here," the older version said quietly,
"...it notices faster."
The tree behind him suddenly creaked loudly.
Like something inside it had moved.
Feroz's heart tightened instantly.
The older version looked up slowly toward the branches.
For the first time—
actual emotion appeared on his face.
Concern.
"...you shouldn't have reached this place yet."
Then suddenly—
the vision cracked.
Violently.
The world around Feroz shattered apart like broken glass.
And he was back beside the old man again.
Breathing hard.
Sweat running down his face.
Haya immediately stepped closer.
"What happened?!"
Feroz stared forward silently.
The old man watched him carefully.
"...you spoke to him, didn't you?"
Feroz slowly looked up.
"...how do you know about him?"
The old man's expression darkened slightly.
Because this time—
he looked genuinely worried.
"...because he spoke to me too."