Elias hadn't slept the whole night. The strange meeting with Abdullah's parents, the Imam's warning, and the repeating signs about "the fourth day" kept circling his mind like vultures.
By early morning, he left home to clear his head. The streets were quiet. Too quiet. A strange black van had passed him twice. The third time, it stopped.
Before Elias could react, someone grabbed him from behind. A sharp sting hit his neck. Everything blurred into black.
---
He awoke hours later — groggy, cold, confused.
He was in a room. Huge, old, with stone walls and no windows. A table, a single chair, and a flickering yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling. His hands were tied behind the chair. His legs, too.
He struggled. The rope was real. Tight. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
Then — the door creaked open.
A man entered. Tall. Silent.
He walked calmly, stood in front of Elias. Elias breathed heavily, confused and panicked. The man pulled a cloth from Elias's face — the blindfold he didn't even realize was there.
Their eyes met.
Elias froze.
His face changed. Fear and confusion mixed with shock.
He whispered, "You?"
The man tilted his head slightly, as if amused.
But said nothing.
He walked to the table in the corner. Picked up something.
A small, circular object.
It was the same compact mirror that the stranger had given him at the train station.
He placed it gently on the table next to Elias. Then leaned closer and whispered:
> "You saw the beginning, now you are close to the end."
And left.
The door shut.
Elias was alone. With the mirror. And a hundred thoughts screaming in his head.
---