The night had no stars, no wind, no sound, only the soft hum of an approaching Reaper aircraft gliding down toward the island's private airstrip. No spotlights greeted it, no celebration, no voice. Only the people who mattered — Rayyan, Baba, Amir, Jabir, Malik, Sophia, Sara, the doctors — standing in silence, watching the hangar doors. When they opened, no one moved forward, because it wasn't him who stepped out. It was a stretcher. Floating. Carrying the man they loved. His body was not burned, not broken beyond repair, but it was unrecognizable in its stillness. Regeneration had already begun, but suffering clung to him like shadow. His chest rose and fell in slow defiance, his face twisted in pain, the mask gone, the sword shattered and lying beside him. Still, he breathed. Sophia stepped forward with a trembling hand over her mouth, tears streaming. "What did he do to you…" Rayyan lowered his eyes, Baba closed his hands in prayer, Jabir stepped back, and Amir whispered, "He left as a storm… and returned like a shattered soul."
They carried him into the regeneration chamber, the pod built for what most would call impossible repair. But no one was ready for the first sound. The moment the coils activated, Mirshad screamed not a groan, not a cry, but a roar of agony so raw it split something inside everyone who heard it. His back arched, his bones cracked and realigned as the healing surge ripped through him, his chest glowing as muscle rewove itself and nerves lit with lightning. He screamed again, louder, shaking the walls. Sophia ran to the chamber door but was blocked by a guard. "He ordered it. No one enters. Not even family." She fought against him, pounding on the door, voice breaking. "He's in pain! Let me in! Please!" Inside, the doctors didn't look up, hands moving fast, eyes grim. Outside, the brothers froze. Another scream tore the night. Jabir dropped to the floor, tears falling, Amir turned away and punched the wall until his knuckles split, Rayyan couldn't breathe, Malik collapsed into a chair and stared at nothing, Baba clenched his jaw with his eyes closed as a tear slid down his face. "He gave them heaven… and now this is his reward."
Inside, the doctors spoke in low voices over the sound of agony. "His regeneration is too fast… the body's rebuilding in bursts. His nerves can't adapt fast enough." "Every second is like dying again." "We can't sedate him, his system rejects it. He has to survive this on his own." Sophia sat against the glass, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her belly, no longer crying, her voice low and steady. "You held the world together. Now it's our turn to hold you." She pressed her palm to the glass. "Please… don't give up. Not now. Not with our stars on the way." Another scream shook the room and she whispered through the noise, "I'm here. Even if you don't hear me… I'm here."
Inside the black space of his mind, his body twitching under the machine's glow, he saw nothing but flashes — the fight, the sword breaking, the enemy's grip, the moment his face was revealed, the crowd's voice, the ground rushing up to meet him, then silence. Alone. A whisper in his own head: "What am I now? They saw me fall… was I ever a god… or just a man pretending?" A tear rolled down his real cheek inside the pod as the next wave of pain wracked him.
Outside, no one spoke anymore. They only sat, listening to the sound of the strongest being they had ever known screaming inside a steel room they could not enter, knowing they could not save him. His bones were healing. His flesh was mending. But his pain was screaming louder than any war he had ever fought.