The Interrogation at the Door

The sound of the doorbell echoed again, cutting through the quiet tension in the house just as Omar reached the door. His hand hesitated on the knob for only a moment before he opened it. Three police officers stood before him, one positioned slightly ahead of the others. Omar furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes at the sight.

"Yes?" he said, his voice steady.

The officer in front, Lyn in disguise, met his gaze, his own eyes sharp with suspicion. "Are you Hassan’s brother?" Lyn asked, watching Omar intently.

Omar nodded, letting a look of worry cross his face. "Yes. Has something happened to him? Or has he done something wrong?"

Lyn didn’t break eye contact, watching closely for any telltale sign of deception. "You don’t know?"

Omar stepped forward, his expression hardening as he shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "Look, Officer, if something’s happened to him, I need to know now. And if he’s done something wrong, then you’re at the wrong place."

Lyn tilted his head slightly, studying him. "Why would this be the wrong place? Isn’t this his home?"

Omar sighed, playing the role of the concerned brother effortlessly. "It was his home," he said, his tone shifting to frustration. "Until he left two years ago. We haven’t heard from him since. Why are you asking?"

Lyn considered his words, his gaze unwavering. "Hm, okay. We may visit again."

As Lyn turned to leave, Omar called out. "Officer."

Lyn stopped, turning his head silently to listen.

"My parents are very upset with him for leaving us like that. If he’s done something wrong, please find him and deal with him directly. We haven’t seen or spoken to him in years, and I don’t want my parents getting dragged into this."

Lyn nodded, turning to face him fully again. "He’s stolen some valuable items," he said, he attempted one last time to draw something out. "Your brother is Axen."

Omar’s expression shifted, a mask of disbelief settling over his features as he shook his head. "No… that...that can’t be. Hassan isn’t capable of something like that. He’s not a criminal. He’s not a murderer."

Lyn studied him, but Omar’s reaction was flawless. Lyn patted his shoulder, seemingly convinced. "Unfortunately, he is."

As Lyn turned to leave, Omar quickly grabbed his arm, his voice tight with desperation. "Officer." Lyn looked at him, and Omar’s face reflected genuine fear and worry. "I don’t believe it... there has to be some mistake. But if it’s true—please, don’t let my parents find out. It’ll destroy them."

Lyn nodded, his demeanor softening slightly. "I understand. We’ll keep it quiet."

As Lyn and the officers walked away, their footsteps fading into the distance, Omar stood in the doorway, watching them with a neutral expression. But as soon as they were out of sight, his carefully composed demeanor cracked, and his eyes flared with barely restrained anger and aggression. Just then, a white sedan pulled into the driveway, his parents returning home.

Elif stepped out of the car, her face clouded with worry. "Omar?" she called, her voice edged with concern. "Why were the police here?"

Omar forced a smile, slipping effortlessly back into control. "They came by mistake, looking for someone else." He draped his arm around her shoulders, guiding her inside as he deflected further questions.

At Lunch

Seated at the dining table, Omar tapped his fingers rhythmically, staring at his parents. He took a deep breath, "Mom, Dad, I need to talk to you about something."

Elif and Arham exchanged a quick glance, sensing the seriousness in his tone. "Go ahead, sweetheart," Elif encouraged gently.

Omar cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. "I want to spend some time away... out of the city." His parents looked at him, concern flickering in their eyes. "Just ten days," he added quickly, "I need some space."

Arham frowned, shaking his head, but before he could speak, Elif placed a calming hand on his. "Where do you want to go?" she asked.

"Upper Remaan," Omar replied, meeting her gaze.

"And who’s going with you?" Arham asked, suspiciously.

Omar took a moment before answering. "Alone." His parents fell silent, their unspoken fears evident. "I know what you’re thinking. You’re afraid I’ll end up like Hassan. But I won’t. I promise, I would never do that." He paused, his voice softening as he continued, "I... I have a lot on my mind. My heart is heavy, and there are things I want to share with you, but now isn’t the right time. I need to be alone, just for a little while. Please trust me. I’ll come back, I can’t live without you both."

Elif’s face was lined with worry, but after exchanging a look with Arham, she nodded slowly. "Okay, honey. But what’s troubling you? What burden are you talking about?"

Omar inhaled deeply, steadying himself. "I’ll tell you when I get back. Do you trust me?"

His parents sighed but nodded. Omar rose from his seat, kissed his mother on the head, and embraced his father. "Thank you for understanding."

Moments Later

Omar placed his bag in the backseat of the car. His parents stood nearby, watching him with mixed emotions. Turning back to them, he smiled and walked over to hug them both. "Thank you for letting me go. I’ll see you in a few days."

Elif kissed him on both cheeks, her eyes misty with emotion. "Stay connected with us."

Omar nodded, then turned to leave, but after taking a few steps, he stopped and faced them again, his expression serious. "There’s something I need to tell you before I go. The police weren’t here by mistake." Elif and Arham exchanged a worried glance. "They were looking for Axen. They said Hassan is Axen."

Elif’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "What?" she whispered.

Omar nodded gravely. "It’s true. But remember this—your son isn’t a villain. Please don’t ask me any more questions until I come back."

Without waiting for a response, Omar climbed into the car and drove off, leaving his parents standing in stunned silence. Elif’s eyes brimmed with tears as she whispered, "That’s why Hassan left."

Arham’s face darkened with concern. "Why did you give Omar permission to leave? What if he does the same thing as Hassan?"

Elif shook her head, her voice filled with quiet certainty. "He won’t. If he was going to, he wouldn’t have asked for permission. He keeps his promises."

In the Car

A few minutes into the drive, Ammarah appeared out of nowhere in the passenger seat. Omar glanced at her briefly, unsurprised. "You were here the whole time?" he asked.

She nodded, her gaze steady. "Yes. Why did you tell your parents about Hassan? You asked the police to keep it from them."

Omar kept his eyes on the road, his voice calm. "Because I need to prepare them—slowly—for what’s coming. I can’t hide the truth from them forever. Soon, I’ll spread the news of Axen’s death myself. The police will remember what I said, and they won’t suspect me again."

Ammarah smiled slightly, understanding his plan, she nodded.

The Beginning of Training

Omar parked his car in the dimly lit basement parking lot, his phone pressed to his ear as he finished a call with Zain. "Yeah, I’m here... 6th floor, 50th flat. Got it. Thanks, and listen, tell no one about this place, okay? And don’t come here—I’m not meeting anyone for ten days... I’ll explain later... See you."

He ended the call and glanced over at Ammarah, who stood silently beside him. "6th floor, 50th flat. Wait for me there," he instructed.

Ammarah nodded, her figure vanishing from sight as if she had never been there at all.

Omar stepped out of the parking lot and walked toward the building's entrance. Approaching the counter, he was greeted by a female employee. "Yes?" she asked, her fingers poised over a computer keyboard.

"I’ve rented the 50th apartment. Could you please provide me with the key?" Omar requested, dropping his bag to the floor.

She nodded. "Your name?"

"Omar Azdar," he answered.

After a quick check, she handed him the key card. "Here you go."

"Thank you," he said, taking his bag and walking toward the elevator.

Moments later, he unlocked the door to his rented flat. It was small but comfortable, the kind of space built for quiet and solitude. The TV lounge was modest, with a large window offering a view of the city beyond. Beside it was an open kitchen. He wandered into the bedroom, placing his bag on the chair by the tea table before walking back to the lounge.

Ammarah stood by the window, gazing outside. "It's a nice place," she said quietly, her voice carrying the faintest approval.

Omar strode over to the window and swiftly drew the curtains. "Let’s start my training," he said, his tone resolute.

Ammarah turned toward him, her expression firm with purpose. "The first thing you need to master is activating your Circe stone without relying on a command. We can work on that here, but for full control over your powers, we’ll need to train somewhere more isolated. Once you can activate the stone on your own, you'll be able to use its powers without needing any command. Remember, there are seven powers, each with its unique specialty. You can think of it as fourteen powers in total, but your Circe doesn't hold all of them. Some powers you have fully, both the power and its special trait; others, you hold only partially—either the power or just the specialty." Her eyes narrowed with intent. "The Circe stone can take any form—a ring, a watch, a necklace—but once activated, the stone will always appear in its true jewel form. But I have another plan in mind, one that will ensure you're protected even more."

Omar nodded, holding the black diamond Circe tightly in his hand as he took a seat on the couch. "How do I activate it?" he asked.

Ammarah approached him, her expression serious. "First, you need to understand something. After training, you’ll need to continue the act you put on in front of the police. Trust no one. Zain is the only person you can rely on, and no one else should know about your connection to the stones. Control your emotions—they are your greatest weakness. Use your mind. You will live two lives—one as Omar and one as Axen. Use both identities, but use them smartly."

Omar nodded, absorbing her words. "I will," he promised.

Ammarah smiled, the confidence in her eyes unshakable. "I know you will. Now, the Circe stone is directly linked to the mind. Even with command words, your mind plays a crucial role. Without the command, the entire process depends on mental discipline. The stone will only respond if you can control your thoughts. Now, holding the stone, close your eyes. Empty your mind. Focus solely on activating it."

Omar tightened his grip around the black diamond Circe, his fist clenched as he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, willing his mind to quiet the storm of thoughts swirling within.

He could feel the weight of the stone in his palm, dense with ancient power, waiting to be unlocked. But unlocking that power wasn’t easy. Omar struggled, spending hours in silence, forcing his mind to stay focused solely on one thought—the activation of the Circe stone.

Days passed, and with each sleepless night, Omar grew more frustrated. No matter how hard he tried, the stone remained dormant, and with every failure, his confidence eroded.

On the fifth day, after another grueling attempt, Omar sat cross-legged, his hand clenched around the stone. Exhausted and defeated, he set it aside. For a brief moment, the stone flickered with a reddish glow, but Omar didn’t notice.

Ammarah appeared at his side, sitting quietly next to him. He looked at her, his voice weary. “I’m tired, Ammarah. It’s too hard. My head feels like it’s about to explode. I’m too weak. How am I supposed to fulfill this promise?”

She rested a hand on his shoulder, her voice soft but firm. “You’re not weak. Even your brother had to use a command to activate the stone. But you won’t—you're learning from both his strengths and his weaknesses.”

Omar looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “Was my brother weak?”

Ammarah shook her head. “No.”

“Then why did he lose?” Omar asked, his voice trembling with frustration.

“He didn’t lose,” Ammarah replied gently. “He won. He fulfilled his duty. He protected both stones, even though it cost him his life. If he wanted, he could’ve saved himself. But he chose responsibility over his own life. That great Guardian trusted you, Omar. He believed in you.”

Omar stared at the floor for a long moment, her words sinking in. Ammarah gave him a small, reassuring smile before vanishing into thin air.

Omar took a deep breath, once more picking up the stone. He closed his eyes, his mind filling with every word Ammarah had spoken, every line of his brother’s letter, every last word Hassan had said to him. His breathing quickened, and he concentrated with every ounce of strength he had.

After moments of concentration, The stone began to pulse, a faint reddish light glowing from within it. And then, with a sudden flash, it activated.

In an instant, the energy surged through Omar’s body, transforming him into Axen. His red eyes flew open as he felt the immense power flowing through his veins. Breathing heavily, a smile broke across his face, and he leaped up with joy. “I did it!”

The sound of clapping echoed through the room. Axen turned to see Ammarah standing nearby, a proud smile on her face. “I’m proud of you. Really.”

Without thinking, Axen rushed forward, joyfully wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Ammarah chuckled as he set her back down. Axen exhaled, the thrill of success still coursing through him. Ammarah patted him on the back, her tone more serious now. “You were quick, little man. I thought 10 days wouldn’t be enough. But don’t celebrate too much. Focus on the next step.”

The next five days were grueling. Axen and Ammarah journeyed to the remote, snow-covered mountains, far from prying eyes. Each day, they climbed higher, testing his limits as Axen struggled to control the immense power of the black diamond Circe, now set in a ring on his finger.

In the biting cold, Ammarah guided him. "Focus on one thing at a time," she instructed. Axen clenched his jaw, summoning his energy. After hours of concentration, Red Fire erupted from his hand, melting the snow and triggering an avalanche, leaving a huge blackened spot in its wake. But it wasn’t enough.

Day by day, his control improved. He practiced all his powers relentlessly—Red Fire and it's destructive force, Air power and illusions, heal and repair the damage he'd caused, Purple Thunder and it's unmatched speed, Ice power and it's protection, and shape-changing.

By the fifth day, he stood atop the highest peak, the storm swirling around him. He had gained control over his abilities, but Ammarah’s words echoed in his mind: "Control your emotions, and you control the stone."

Axen had transformed, not just physically but mentally. He was ready.