He sat still in a room filled with machines, quiet whispers, and eyes drowning in tears. He simply breathed. Mirshad. Alive. Awake. Silent. His hand still held the sword, not in defense, not in command, but as if its weight anchored him to the reality around him, reminding him that he was still here. No one moved until Sophia stepped forward. No one stopped her, not Rayyan, not Baba, not even the doctors, because they knew she was the key. She walked slowly, her eyes fixed on him, and when she reached his side she sat and placed her hand over his. He looked at her without a smile, without words, just a gaze that carried depth no language could hold. "You came back," she whispered. His fingers closed gently around hers, and that was enough.
The brothers entered one by one. Amir tried to smile, his voice trembling, "Bro, next time you wanna vanish… at least leave a letter or something," but the last word cracked. Malik leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes, muttering, "Forty-five days, man… but you made it look like a nap." Rayyan didn't speak. He simply stood at the edge of the bed, nodding once with quiet gravity. "Welcome back." Baba came last. No words. He placed a strong, steady hand on Mirshad's shoulder, the weight of it carrying all the meaning in the world — you were missed.
When Mirshad finally spoke, his voice wasn't weak or broken. It was calm, but distant. "I saw something…" Everyone leaned in. "But I don't remember what it was. Flashes. Voices. Lights. Then silence." Sophia asked softly if he remembered how long he had been gone. He turned toward her, "A day. Maybe less." They exchanged shocked glances. Amir stepped forward, "You were inside for forty-five days." Mirshad blinked once. "No. It wasn't time. It was… space."
Later, outside the room, the brothers and Sophia gathered with Baba as the doctors spoke carefully. "His body is perfect, but his brain… it's showing unusual patterns. It's as if he traveled through something we don't understand." Rayyan paced, "He's different. I don't know how, but he is." Sophia's eyes stayed on him through the glass, "He doesn't remember what happened, but something deep inside him still does."
Inside, Mirshad sat alone, the sword resting across his lap as his eyes drifted to the stars. "What did I see… and why can't I hold on to it?" he whispered to himself. And then it came — not a memory, but a flash — a massive gate of light, and a whisper that wasn't a voice, "You are not yet ready." His gaze stayed fixed on the sky. He was back, but he wasn't done. "This wasn't the end of the question. It was just the beginning."