Nobody spoke for several moments.
The fog around them felt colder now.
Heavier.
Feroz looked at Salman.
"You said three paths."
Salman nodded.
"Yes."
"And one makes me stronger?"
"Yes."
Feroz frowned.
"Then why not just take that one?"
The old man laughed softly.
"Because if it were that simple, everyone would."
Salman nodded.
"The paths don't have signs."
That answer immediately made more sense.
Haya crossed her arms.
"So people don't know which path they're taking."
"Exactly."
The old man sat back down on the broken stone.
"The crossroads test choices."
Feroz was getting tired of mysterious answers.
"What does that even mean?"
This time Salman answered directly.
"It means your decision matters more than your power."
That was simple enough to understand.
The road beneath them trembled again.
A small shift.
The fog ahead moved aside briefly.
And for a second—
three distant roads became visible.
Then disappeared again.
Everyone saw them.
Including Feroz.
His chest tightened.
The crossroads were real.
Far away.
But real.
The strange figure beside him immediately looked toward the direction of those roads.
Almost like it recognized them.
Salman noticed.
"So it knows too."
Feroz looked at him.
"What exactly is this thing?"
Salman hesitated.
Then shook his head.
"I don't know."
For the first time—
his answer sounded honest.
The old man nodded.
"Nobody does."
That wasn't comforting.
Suddenly—
the noise inside Feroz's head grew louder again.
Not painful.
But stronger.
Whispers.
Pulling.
Calling.
He grabbed his forehead slightly.
Haya immediately noticed.
"It's happening again."
Salman looked serious.
"How often now?"
Feroz lowered his hand.
"Almost every hour."
That made both Salman and the old man exchange a look.
Not a good one.
Feroz saw it.
"What?"
Salman exhaled slowly.
"The threshold is adapting to you faster than normal."
Feroz didn't like the sound of that.
At all.
Meanwhile—
far away at the valley—
Haroon sat near a small fire while Younus studied the symbol connected to Qadir.
The night was quiet.
But nobody was resting.
Haroon looked frustrated.
"We know Qadir searched for this symbol."
Younus nodded.
"Yes."
"We know it connects to the threshold."
"Yes."
Haroon sighed.
"So what are we missing?"
Ibn Younus looked up from the ancient markings.
"Direction."
Both men looked at him.
"What do you mean?" Haroon asked.
Ibn Younus pointed toward the broken symbol.
"The mark isn't a door."
Silence.
Younus immediately understood.
His eyes widened slightly.
"It's a map."
Haroon sat forward instantly.
"A map to where?"
Younus looked toward the dark forest beyond the valley.
"A way into the threshold."
For the first time since Feroz left—
real hope appeared.
Back on the shifting road—
Feroz sat beside a broken stone while Haya prepared a small fire.
The old man remained nearby.
Salman sat opposite him.
The strange figure stood at the edge of the fog.
Watching the darkness.
Like a guard.
Or a prisoner.
Feroz still wasn't sure which.
Haya handed him a small cup of water.
"You should rest."
Feroz accepted it.
"Can people even sleep here?"
Salman laughed.
"Badly."
That was probably the most normal answer Feroz had heard all day.
For a few minutes—
everything felt almost peaceful.
Then—
a sound came from the fog.
A distant scream.
Everyone froze.
The sound echoed again.
Human.
Terrified.
Then suddenly stopped.
Silence returned.
Haya slowly stood up.
"...someone's out there."
The old man's face darkened.
"No."
Salman immediately agreed.
"Don't go looking."
Feroz looked between them.
"Why?"
The old man answered quietly.
"Because not every voice here belongs to a person."
The fire crackled softly.
Nobody spoke.
Then—
the scream came again.
Closer this time.
And this time—
Feroz recognized the voice.
His heart stopped.
It sounded exactly like Haroon.