Axen, Hira, and Ammarah stood atop the Phoenix Tower, overlooking the city. The night was quiet now, the chaos from earlier a distant memory. Axen’s gaze drifted toward Hira, as both feeling the sensation of each other's presence. He couldn’t shake the curiosity that had been gnawing at him.

"You didn’t answer my questions last time," Axen said, his voice low but firm.

Hira turned to him, stepping closer, her eyes locked onto his. "I’m a Harzam," she began. "My side of the family never supported evil. I was against the previous Axen, which is why I didn’t help him. I believed what most people did—that he was a villain. But now... I don’t think the same." She paused, gauging his reaction. "Robis invited me to his chamber, asked me to join his side against you. But my family never liked Robis, so I rejected his offer. Even so, while I was there, I kept sensing something—your presence. So I followed that feeling, and it led me to the room where you were being held."

Axen narrowed his eyes, skeptical. "But how did you know about the secret tunnels?"

Hira shook her head. "I didn’t. I only knew the tunnel I used to meet Robis. I brought you out the same way. And trust me, it’s not the only one."

Axen exchanged a quick glance with Ammarah before responding. "Going against Robis isn’t dangerous for you? If they know who you really are, they could blackmail you through your family."

Hira smiled, a faint but knowing smile. "They only know me as Hira. You see, our ancestors fought amongst themselves for centuries, and the Harzams split into different families. Three were the most powerful—those with the Red, Black, and White diamonds. The family with the Black diamond had the Guardian stone, but their identity was kept secret. No one knew who they were. Learning from them, the other families also began to hide their true identities."

Axen was still skeptical. "If they only know you as Hira, how did they contact you?"

Hira looked up at the sky, her expression unreadable. "Look." She whispered, before commanding, "Phainara", and a glowing, octagonal white symbol appeared in the night sky, shimmering like a beacon. "When you see this, it means they want to meet. If it’s red, it’s Robis. If it’s white, it’s me. If it’s dark red or black, it’s you." She explained.

Axen nodded, understanding but still wary. "I see."

Hira studied him for a moment before offering a smile. "I know you don’t trust me, and that’s smart. You shouldn’t trust anyone, not until things become clear. But I’ll say this—fighting together against evil doesn’t require trust." She extended her hand toward him. "Partners?"

Axen looked at her hand for a long moment, then took it. "Partners."

Hira’s smile widened as she bowed her head slightly. "Then see you soon, Guardian." With that, she turned and flew off into the night.

Ammarah watched her leave, then turned to Axen. "Do you trust her?"

Axen shook his head, his eyes still on the horizon. "Not yet. She might not be bad, but I won’t trust her. Not when it comes to the Guardian stone."

The quiet of the woods was broken only by the rustling of leaves and the soft chirping of distant birds. The early morning sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows over the ground. At the center of a small clearing, Elif crouched beside the grave of Hassan, the earth freshly turned. Elif’s hands trembled as she brushed away leaves from the headstone, her lips moving in a silent prayer. Arham stood beside her, his face hardened with grief.

A few paces behind them, Omar leaned against the family car, watching his parents in silence. His phone buzzed in his hand, breaking his trance.

He unlocked it and quickly typed a message to Fairy, one of his most trusted contacts: "Find out another puppet. We need to uncover their real identities before they track me down." The message was brief, but the urgency was clear. Omar hit send, a sense of unease gnawing at him.

As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, it buzzed again. A new message from Noor: "Are you home?"

Omar exhaled and typed his reply: "No, but I’m on the way. I’ll be there in 10 minutes. I’ll pick you up."

Slipping his phone back into his jacket, he pushed himself off the car and approached his parents. His steps felt heavier as he neared them. "Mom, Dad," Omar said softly, trying not to disturb the moment. "We’ll come again. But we should leave now."

Elif didn’t move at first. Her hand rested on the grave, fingers tracing the name etched in stone, her voice barely a whisper. "Rest in peace, sweetheart," she murmured, her words caught in the soft breeze.

Arham knelt down and gently placed a hand on Elif's shoulder, his own eyes misted with memories and regrets that words couldn’t fix. "Come on, Elif," he said quietly. "We’ll visit again soon."

With a slow, reluctant nod, Elif wiped her tear-streaked face and allowed Arham to help her to her feet.

Omar waited as his parents walked past him. He opened the back door of the car, watching as his father carefully helped Elif into the seat. Arham climbed in after her, pulling the door shut with a quiet thud.

For a moment, Omar stood by the car, his gaze flickering back to the grave. His brother’s absence felt like a void that nothing could fill. 

With a deep breath, he circled around the car and slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at his mother in the rearview mirror—her face turned toward the window, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. His father, lost in his own world of guilt and what-ifs.

Omar gripped the steering wheel and started the engine. He had to keep moving.

Noor stood at the curb in front of a Mersendise gateway, her breath misting in the cool morning air. She was dressed in a loose red sweater that hung comfortably over her black slacks, her white sneakers blending with the pavement. A small white bag was slung over her shoulder, the delicate chain of her necklace just visible above the collar of her sweater. Her eyes scanned the street, and then she saw Omar’s car pulling up in front of her.

She smiled and walked toward the passenger seat as Omar rolled down the window slightly. Inside, Omar glanced at his mother in the back seat and introduced her softly, “Mom, this is my friend, Noor.”

Noor, unaware that Omar’s parents were with him, opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. She turned, expecting to greet only Omar, but her heart skipped when she saw Elif and Arham seated in the back. "Good morning," she stammered, her voice suddenly shy.

“Good morning,” the three of them replied in unison, but it was Elif’s warm yet curious gaze that caught her attention.

Noor shifted nervously in her seat, her cheeks slightly flushed. “He-Hello, ma’am... sir," she added, nodding at Arham.

Elif studied Noor for a moment, her sharp yet gentle eyes taking in the girl’s unease. As the car started moving, Elif leaned forward slightly, with a teasing smile. “Omar, your friend is quite beautiful. Is that why you moved here?”

Noor’s blush deepened, her head snapping forward as she tried to compose herself, the compliment catching her off guard.

Omar chuckled, glancing at Noor with a smirk. “No, it’s just a coincidence. Actually, Zain picked this place for me.”

Elif raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying Noor’s reaction. “Just a coincidence, huh? Are you sure? You two are just friends, right?” Her tone was playful. 

Noor’s eyes darted nervously to Omar, hoping for him to save her from the teasing. “Yes, ma’am, we’re just friends,” she answered quickly, trying to keep her voice steady. She nudged Omar slightly. “Tell them.”

Omar couldn’t help the smirk spreading across his face as he leaned back. “Yeah, we’re just friends,” he agreed casually before adding with a sly grin, “But we’re open to becoming more than that, right?”

Noor’s eyes widened in shock, and she turned to him with a mixture of fury and embarrassment. “No! No, he’s joking,” she quickly blurted out, her face flushed red. She leaned closer to him, her voice a furious whisper, “Are you crazy?”

Omar laughed softly, clearly enjoying her reaction, but he raised his hands in mock surrender.

In the back seat, Arham and Elif exchanged amused glances a spark of warmth lighting up the otherwise somber morning.

Ms. Ayesha stood at the front of the classroom, her voice steady as she delivered her lecture. Anum and Noor sat side by side, half-listening, their focus elsewhere. Noor leaned closer to Anum, whispering as she recounted the morning’s events with a slight smile playing on her lips.

Anum stifled a chuckle, glancing back discreetly toward Omar, who was seated a few rows behind them. She leaned in closer, whispering, "He really likes you, Noor."

Noor let out a quiet sigh, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her notebook. "But what if he is Axen?"

Anum's eyes flicked to Noor, her expression curious. "So what if he is?" she asked.

Noor lowered her gaze, her voice turning more somber. "Look, I need the Guardian stone, Anum. It’s crucial. I’m getting close to him to figure out if he really is Axen."

Anum smiled softly, her tone still teasing. "Is that the only reason you're getting close to him?" She gave Noor a knowing look.

Noor paused, her eyes distant for a moment as she considered the weight of her actions. "I hope he isn’t, If he is, then... everything will become much more complicated. It’ll be harder for me." Her gaze shifted toward the window, "We’re having lunch together today. I’ll try to find out."

Anum nodded in understanding, "Let me know what you find out," she said softly, her eyes flicking toward Omar briefly before returning to Noor.

Noor gave a slight nod.

Omar and Noor sat across from each other at a small table in Mersendise, the quiet hum of the restaurant filling the space between them. The clink of cutlery against plates was the only sound as they ate in silence. Omar glanced at Noor, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Are you still mad at me, or what?" he asked, his voice light.

Noor rolled her eyes, "You really messed up. You should've told me your parents were with you."

Omar chuckled softly, meeting her gaze. "I wanted you to meet them." His smile faded slightly. "We visited Hassan’s grave earlier. My parents were pretty upset. But when you joined us... the atmosphere changed. You helped."

Noor’s expression softened as she smiled. "By the way, why didn’t your brother choose you to be the next Axen?"

Omar took a slow sip of water, considering her question. "I don’t really know. Maybe I wasn’t the right fit for it. But from what I’ve gathered, the new Axen found my brother when he was dying. That’s how he entrusted him with the duty—right in his final moments."

Noor raised her eyebrows in surprise. "So, it all happened suddenly?"

Omar nodded, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his gallery. He stopped on a selfie of him with Axen and showed it to Noor. She leaned in, her eyes widening. "Wow."

Omar smiled as he took the phone back. "Yeah. Yesterday, both Axen and Robis were at our house."

Noor blinked, her shock apparent. "What? Aren’t they enemies?"

"Apparently, they’ve got some sort of issue," Omar said, leaning back in his chair. "But it wasn’t always this way. Robis told us it’s all a big misunderstanding."

Noor nodded, processing the revelation. As she picked at her meal, Omar leaned forward slightly, "You know everything about me now, even met my parents. I want to know more about you. Tell me about yourself."

Noor paused, placing her fork down gently before speaking. "I’m Aamaan Ekzel's daughter," she said, her tone steady. "And... well, you know about my mom already."

Omar’s eyebrows shot up. "Really? You’re Mr. Ekzel’s daughter? He’s the most powerful and influential man in the country."

Noor smiled, a touch of pride in her expression. "Yeah. Most people hate him. They think he’s arrogant and rude, but to me, he’s always been the kindest, most gentle person."

Omar chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Of course. You’re his princess."

Noor’s smile grew. "He actually calls me ‘princess.’"

Omar’s eyes met hers, a playful glint in them as he winked. "You might be his princess, but to me, you’re a queen."

Noor blushed, her gaze briefly lowering before looking back at him, her heart skipping a beat at his words.

They walked down the corridor in silence, their steps echoing softly. Noor stopped in front of her flat door and turned to face Omar. Her expression was warm as she said softly, "See you later."

"See you," Omar replied, watching her for a brief moment before turning to continue toward his own flat.

Inside her apartment, Noor leaned back against the closed door, a satisfied smile spreading across her lips. "Thank God... he isn’t Axen," she whispered to herself. Quickly, she retrieved her phone from her bag and dialed Anum’s number.

Meanwhile, as Omar entered his flat, Ammarah stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, her gaze locked on him. Omar stopped, "Hello," he said, arching a brow. "Why are you standing here like that?"

Ammarah’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharp. "Aren’t you getting a bit too involved with Noor lately?"

Omar smirked, tilting his head. "Are you jealous?"

Ammarah scoffed, turning her gaze away and shaking her head. "No, I’m not jealous. But you need to focus on your duty. Something about her doesn’t sit right with me."

Omar chuckled as he passed by her, clearly unconcerned. "Now I’m certain—you’re jealous."

Ammarah took a deep breath, her tone growing more serious. "I’m not jealous, and why would I be?" She turned toward him, "I’m telling you this for a reason. Why does she keep asking about Axen? Don’t you think it’s odd? Like today—her question, ‘Why didn’t your brother choose you to be Axen?’ Isn’t that suspicious?"

Omar sank into the couch, leaning back. "Your highness, that’s not suspicious. Anyone might wonder the same thing."

"You're falling for her," she replied bluntly, her voice edged with frustration. "But be careful. One small mistake, and everything you’re fighting for could be destroyed."

Omar’s demeanor shifted, a flicker of anger crossed his face. He met her gaze, his tone sharp and aggressive. "I am careful, Ammarah. The fire of revenge is still burning with all its fury inside me. But that doesn’t mean I need to doubt everyone. You heard her question, but did you hear my answer? Even if I trust her, I’ll never share this secret. I’ve kept it from my own parents. Don’t you think I know better than to let it slip to anyone else?"

Ammarah’s gaze softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. "Okay," she said quietly, her mood visibly darkened. "But mark my words, you’ll make a mistake one day. And when you do, I promise you, I’ll punish you for it." With that, her form shimmered and vanished from sight, leaving him alone with his simmering frustration.