Aamaan and his wife, Alia, sat at a grand breakfast table, an array of dishes spread before them. Alia set her fork down, her eyes drifting toward Aamaan. "Why don’t you bring Noor back here?" she asked softly.

Aamaan paused, brushing his mouth with a tissue, his expression pensive. "I miss her too. I want her close to me, but this place... it holds secrets. If she ever found out, it would break her heart, shatter her soul." His voice lowered. "I don’t want her to hate me, Alia. It’s better she stays where she is."

Alia lowered her gaze, her brow furrowed. "But there’s nothing here that could lead her to those secrets," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Aamaan sighed heavily. "Maybe not. But haven’t you heard? Even walls have a way of speaking. I can’t risk it. I can’t bear to see hatred in her eyes... or be the one to break her heart."

Alia reached across the table, placing her hand gently on his. "She’ll never hate you. If she could forgive you for marrying me, she can forgive anything."

Aamaan nodded slowly, the weight of her words sinking in, but silence hung between them as he contemplated the pain he so desperately wanted to avoid.

Noor entered her flat, her mood heavy and dark. Anum, noticing stood up with a playful smile. "Did he propose to you?" she asked, but the moment she saw Noor's pained face, her smile disappeared. "What happened? Why are you so upset?"

Noor threw her purse onto the floor and sank into the couch. "I hate him," she muttered, crossing her arms angrily. "When he wants, he treats me with warmth, but when he doesn’t... he acts like I’m nothing. He’s..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. "Nevermind. I don’t care. If he flirts with other girls or dates them or does whatever. I don’t care. He thinks he's so special, huh? He’s nothing to me!" she spat out, her voice filled with frustration.

Anum, confused by Noor's outburst, asked cautiously, "But what happened?"

Noor shot her a furious look. "Stop asking that!"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Hira, wake up." In an instant, Noor transformed into Hira, her demeanor shifting. Anum’s eyes widened in shock as she watched the transformation unfold. Hira extended her hand, and in her palm, a shimmering illusion of the Milky Way appeared, slowly rotating.

Anum stared at it in disbelief, her mouth open. After a moment, Hira took another deep breath. "Sleep, Hira," she commanded, and in a flash, she transformed back into Noor.

Turning to Anum, she said calmly, "You've seen my powers now. Please, I want to be alone."

Anum, still processing what she had just witnessed, sat down beside Noor. She reached out and hugged her. "My sweet friend, don't let this upset you. Call me when you're ready to talk about it," she said softly, pulling back. "See you soon." With that, she stood up and quietly left the flat.

Omar sat slouched in front of the wide window, his eyes distant as he stared out at the illuminated city skyline. Beside him, Zain was in the other chair, his hands resting on the armrests. Between them on the small wooden table were two empty glasses and an empty crystal bottle, the remnants of their earlier conversation.

Omar broke the silence first, his voice low, tinged with bitterness. "She got close to me. I thought... maybe she liked me. But she had other plans." His eyes dimmed, and he exhaled softly, the weariness of realization settling into his bones.

Zain turned toward him, his face thoughtful, "Do you love her?" His question was simple, but the weight behind it wasn't.

Omar chuckled, a hollow sound in the quiet of the room. "No. Of course not." His response came quickly, but his expression betrayed something deeper.

Zain’s gaze narrowed, not convinced by the answer. "Then why are you upset? Why does this bother you so much?"

Omar sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not about love. It's about trust. I argued with Ammarah… she warned me, told me that Noor wasn't what she seemed. And she was right." His voice lowered, barely above a whisper, "I almost made a huge mistake." He paused, shaking his head, "But, as always, Ammarah—Fairy—didn’t let me fall into that trap. She’s right, you know. Love... it is a weakness." His fingers tapped on the armrest, eyes shifting back to the cityscape. "Noor was trying to make me weak. She was getting close to me, to Omar, to gain my trust. To find out who I am."

Zain leaned back, his eyes following Omar's gaze outside. "Are you sure she knows about Axen? Your secret?"

Omar shook his head slowly. "No, she doesn’t know for certain. But she suspects. That’s why she got close to Omar as Noor. To confirm her suspicions. And as Hira, she tries to seduce Axen, hoping to gain my trust and discover who's behind the mask." His voice grew harder, more distant, "She’s playing a dangerous game, but I won't be her pawn."

Zain rose from his seat, stretching as he did. "You're overthinking it. Get some rest. Tomorrow's another day." He glanced at Omar, giving him a reassuring nod before heading toward the door.

Omar nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. "See you tomorrow," he muttered, watching as Zain left the flat, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

As soon as the door closed, the room seemed to shift. Omar looked to the side and saw Ammarah seated where Zain had been. She had appeared without a sound, a subtle smile playing on her lips. "Thanks for the compliment," she teased lightly.

Omar smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "What’s true is true," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "You’re more deserving of being the Guardian than I am."

Ammarah chuckled softly, shaking her head. "The Guardian must be human, Omar. That’s the way it’s always been." She crossed her legs, her expression becoming serious. "I couldn’t find much about the Ekzels. Their public persona is flawless—Aamaan Ekzel is a powerful businessman with a global empire. Their family name is attached to numerous companies, but nothing out of the ordinary. However, they have deep roots. They're Harzams. And Harzams have been here for over nine hundred years."

Omar raised an eyebrow. "So their history is deep, but well-hidden."

Ammarah nodded. “Like an iceberg. What you see is just the tip. There’s so much more buried beneath. I suspect the Ekzels aren't just running Ekzel Enterprises, but several other operations under different names. We’ll need to dig deeper.”

Omar rubbed his chin thoughtfully, processing her words. “And Noor is Aamaan Ekzel's daughter. If she’s working with Robis, that gives us leverage.” He paused, his expression darkening with a realization. “But what if… what if Aamaan is Robis?”

Ammarah's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then she considered the possibility. “That’s not impossible. But remember, Hira said that her side of the family has influence within the Harzams. She believes that’s why Robis won’t hurt her. If Aamaan isn’t Robis, it makes sense—she has a strong father, someone with power. Robis wouldn’t dare harm her.”

Omar’s brow furrowed. His gaze grew sharp, like a storm gathering in his eyes. “That doesn’t fit, though. Hira also said that her family never liked Robis. So if Noor isn’t his daughter, then she’s a target. A treasure for anyone who wants to hurt Aamaan. And Robis…” He paused for a brief moment, “…he wouldn’t spare her if it benefited him.”

Ammarah tilted her head, studying him carefully. “So, what’s your plan?”

Omar stretched, tension coiling through his body. The burden of everything they faced was pressing down on him, heavier than ever. “First, I need to show Noor that I’m not Axen. I’ll push her away as Omar. After that, we can start peeling back the layers of their secrets.”

But Ammarah shook her head quickly, her voice firm. “No. Don’t push her away. Noor’s too smart for that. If you suddenly distance yourself, it might confirm her suspicions about you being Axen. And if she realizes you know she’s Hira, that could blow everything up. Just act normal.”

Omar looked at her, the frustration clear in his eyes. “I want to act normal. I want to go back to being the person I was before all this, but… I don’t know if I can anymore.” His voice softened, edged with pain. “Ever since Hassan’s death, I’ve changed. I can’t deny it anymore. And it’s not normal. I’m becoming weak.”

Ammarah sighed, her voice filled with both understanding and challenge. “Weak? Or is it that you’re falling in love?”

Omar turned away, unable to meet her gaze. “I’ve started to care for her… but I don’t want to anymore.” His voice broke slightly, filled with vulnerability. He finally looked back at her, his eyes pleading. “Please, help me. I want to stop caring. At least for her.”

Ammarah chuckled, shaking her head gently at his desperation.

“Are you laughing?” he asked, incredulous. “I’m serious, Ammarah.”

She met his gaze, her smile fading into something more thoughtful, more serious. “You’ve got a spark of love in your heart, Omar. I can take that away. I can make you careless, remove the attachment. But I’m warning you…” Her voice dropped, becoming grave. “If that spark returns, it won’t just be a flicker next time. It’ll burn like fire—a deep love.”

Omar’s face lit up, hope flickering in his eyes for the first time in their conversation. “How does it work? I won’t let it return. Turn my heart to stone. I’m ready.”

Ammarah’s expression remained calm, but there was a subtle sadness in her eyes. “I’ll erase part of your memory. I can’t take it all away, but you’ll forget her like humans forget their childhood memories. Faded, distant.”

Omar frowned, trying to understand. “I won’t remember her at all?”

Ammarah shook her head. “Not exactly. Let me explain it like this. Imagine you’ve tasted chocolate. You know what it is, but I’ll erase the memory of its taste. You’ll still know chocolate exists, but the experience of it's taste will be gone. However, if you taste it again… the memory will return, stronger and more vivid than before. It will be impossible to forget.”

Omar smiled, the relief clear in his features. “No problem. It won’t come back. I’m not in love—just… concerned. I don’t want to care about someone who’s trying to stab me in the back. You don’t know me, Ammarah. I can handle it. Do it now.”

Ammarah studied him for a long moment, her eyes filled with quiet hesitation. Then, finally, she nodded, raising to her feet, “Alright. As you wish. Lay down somewhere.”

Omar quickly rose from his chair and settled on the couch, his body rigid with anticipation.

“Close your eyes,” she instructed softly.

Omar obeyed, closing his eyes and trying to steady his breath. Ammarah moved closer, crouching beside him. Her hand hovered over his head for a moment, then she gently placed it on him, her eyes fluttering closed as she focused her energy.

Minutes passed in silence, the room heavy with unseen power. Slowly, Ammarah lifted her hand, and Omar’s breathing deepened. He had fallen into a peaceful sleep, his face serene, as if some invisible burden had been lifted.

Ammarah stood and gazed down at him, a soft, bittersweet smile playing on her lips. She grabbed a nearby blanket, draping it gently over him. For a moment, she watched him sleep, her eyes lingering on his peaceful face.

“Good night,” she whispered, her voice barely audible before she quietly turned away, disappearing into the shadows.

In a dimly lit room, a shadowy figure stood before a large board filled with photographs, documents, and maps. On the board, two photographs stood out—one of Aamaan Ekzel, the other of Noor. Red string connected the two images, a web of conspiracy unfolding before the figure’s eyes.

The man’s hands moved slowly, deliberately, as he encircled Noor’s picture with a thick red marker. His voice was low and menacing, dripping with malice. "We’ll meet soon," he whispered, his breath fogging the air in the cold room. His eyes gleamed with dangerous intent. "You will pay for the sins of your father."

The room was filled with darkness, save for the faint flickering of an old fluorescent light. Shadows danced on the walls, casting the room in an eerie, foreboding atmosphere. The walls were bare, save for a few sinister marks—claw-like scratches, and faded stains. A row of sharp tools hung ominously on the far wall, their purpose unclear but unmistakably dangerous.

The figure moved closer to the board, his fingers tracing the path between Noor and Aamaan. He grinned, his voice a venomous hiss, "Very soon."