The massive stone doors slowly opened.
A cold breeze drifted out from inside.
Feroz stood still.
The deep voice echoed again.
"Feroz Khan."
The sound wasn't threatening.
But it carried weight.
Like someone had been expecting him for a very long time.
Beside him, Ayan looked just as surprised.
"You didn't tell me your last name."
Feroz frowned.
"I didn't."
That made the situation even stranger.
The voice continued.
"Enter."
Ayan looked at Feroz.
"You should probably go in."
"Probably?"
Ayan laughed nervously.
"Definitely."
Feroz took a deep breath.
Then stepped through the doorway.
Ayan followed close behind.
The Hall was enormous.
Much larger on the inside than it appeared from outside.
Rows of stone pillars stretched into the darkness.
Ancient symbols covered the walls.
And in the center stood a circular platform.
Upon it sat a single man.
Old.
Very old.
Long white hair rested on his shoulders.
His eyes remained closed.
As though he had been meditating.
The moment Feroz entered—
the man's eyes opened.
And immediately locked onto him.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then the old man smiled.
A small smile.
The kind a teacher gives a student.
"Welcome."
Feroz stayed cautious.
"You know me?"
The old man chuckled softly.
"No."
A pause.
"But I knew your father."
The words hit instantly.
Qadir.
Feroz stepped forward.
"You knew him?"
The old man nodded.
"Many years ago."
Suddenly every question Feroz had been carrying felt heavier.
Ayan quietly moved to the side.
Clearly he knew this conversation mattered.
Feroz didn't waste time.
"Where is he?"
The old man's expression changed slightly.
Not sadness.
Not happiness.
Something in between.
"I don't know."
Feroz felt disappointment immediately.
But before he could speak—
the old man continued.
"However..."
The Hall became silent.
"...I know where he was going."
That got Feroz's attention.
The old man slowly stood.
Despite his age, his movements were steady.
Strong.
Controlled.
He walked toward one of the walls.
Then pointed at an ancient carving.
Feroz moved closer.
The carving showed a large tree.
A familiar tree.
His chest tightened instantly.
The Tree.
The same one from his visions.
The same one connected to Vaheen.
The same one connected to his future.
The old man noticed his reaction.
"You've seen it."
It wasn't a question.
Feroz nodded.
"Many times."
The old man sighed.
"So did your father."
Silence.
Feroz stared at the carving.
His heart was beating faster now.
The old man looked directly at him.
"Qadir came here many years ago."
"Just like you."
"And he asked the same question."
Feroz looked up.
"What question?"
The old man's eyes became serious.
"How do I stop what is coming?"
The Hall suddenly felt much colder.
Because for the first time—
Feroz realized something.
His father wasn't running from the Tree.
He had been fighting it.
Trying to stop it.
Just like Feroz was now.
The old man turned toward another carving nearby.
This one showed a man standing between two roads.
One road bright.
One road dark.
"The learning path does not give power."
The old man looked at Feroz.
"It gives understanding."
A pause.
"And understanding often changes everything."
Ayan listened quietly from the side.
Even he looked interested.
Then the old man asked a question.
One simple question.
"Tell me, Feroz."
The Hall became silent.
"What do you fear more?"
Feroz frowned.
The old man continued.
"Becoming Vaheen..."
The words echoed through the room.
"...or discovering that Vaheen was once like you?"
Silence.
Complete silence.
Because for the first time—
Feroz didn't have an answer.
And deep down—
he wasn't sure which possibility scared him more.