Noor glanced at her phone as it buzzed on the passenger seat. Seeing Omar's name, she frowned and cut off the call.

Omar sighed, frustrated. "Come on, pick up." He called again.

This time, Noor answered with a sharp, "Yes?"

Omar kept his voice calm. "Noor, stop the car."

Noor shook her head, eyes still focused on the road ahead. "I’m not in the mood to talk to you."

At that moment, in the woods beside the road, a man in a black hoodie and mask lowered his binoculars, pressing on his earpiece. His voice was cold and emotionless. "Now."

The truck driver, waiting at the intersection, revved the engine and picked up speed.

Omar, thinking quickly, said, "Okay, don’t talk to me, but I saw something strange—a white cloth hanging out of your car trunk."

Noor narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What? You’re lying."

Omar kept his tone steady. "Maybe. But why don’t you stop and check for yourself?"

Noor sighed in frustration, but curiosity got the better of her. She pulled over a short distance from the intersection.

Omar immediately pulled up behind her, getting out of his car and scanning the area. 

The man in the woods observed them closely. "Wait," he hissed into the earpiece. "She stopped the car."

The truck driver slowed down slightly, waiting for the command.

Noor walked toward the back of her car, fuming as she found nothing. "What is this? Why did you stop me?"

Omar stepped closer, his eyes scanning the area while maintaining a calm demeanor. "I needed to talk to you. I had to lie, otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped."

Noor crossed her arms, glaring at him. "I told you, I’m not in the mood."

Before she could get back into her car, Omar placed a hand on the door, blocking her.

The man in the woods cursed under his breath, "Let her go, fool," he muttered angrily.

"You can’t leave yet," Omar insisted, his tone soft but firm. "You might not be in the mood, but I am. What’s going on? Why are you acting so different?"

Noor stepped closer, her eyes blazing with fury. "Acting different? Have you forgotten how rudely you treated me yesterday? And you think I care if you flirt with other girls?"

Omar smiled faintly, but his voice was serious. "I know you don’t care, but that’s no reason to end a friendship, is it?"

Noor looked away, her expression hardening. "I don’t want to be friends anymore, Omar. Now let me go."

The man in the woods pressed his earpiece again, his voice sharp. "Speed up. Turn toward them. Hit the target. Don’t miss."

Omar’s response was cut short as he caught sight of the truck barreling toward them. His eyes widened, heart racing. "Noor!" he shouted, grabbing her arm.

Noor frowned. "What are you doing?" she asked, then followed his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the truck speeding straight toward them.

In a split second, Omar yanked Noor toward him and jumped backward, pulling her out of the truck’s path just as it collided with both cars in a brutal impact. The force of the crash sent the vehicles skidding back, metal screeching and twisting.

The man in the woods cursed and began running, but Ammarah was already on him, flying low through the trees, her eyes locked on her target.

Back on the road, Noor and Omar lay in the dirt, Omar’s arm still wrapped protectively around her, his other hand cradling her head. Noor’s wide eyes were fixed on the flaming wreckage of her car, her face pale and breathless from shock.

Omar quickly got to his feet, helping Noor stand. His voice was urgent. "We need to move, now." He grabbed her arm and started leading her away from the wreckage, but his eyes remained fixed on the driver of the truck, slumped over the wheel. "Keep going," he said. "I’m going to check on the driver."

Noor, still dazed, suddenly grabbed his arm with both hands, her grip tight. "No... don’t go."

Before Omar could respond, the fire from Noor’s car spread, reaching the truck. In the next instant, the vehicles exploded, a deafening blast that knocked them both off their feet.

Ammarah, who had been chasing the man through the trees, stopped mid-air at the sound of the explosion. Her eyes widened in horror as she whispered, "Omar..."

She turned away from her pursuit, and raced back toward the scene.

Omar and Noor lay on the ground, covered in dirt, their ears ringing from the force of the explosion. Omar pushed himself up, groaning from the impact. He glanced at Noor, who was trembling beside him, her eyes unfocused.

"We need to move," he said, though his voice came out hoarse. He pulled Noor to her feet again, and together they stumbled away from the burning wreckage.

In the meanwhile, Ammarah, now in the form of Axen, landed gracefully in front of them. "Omar?" Her voice was steady as she placed a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

Omar nodded, though the weight of the situation still lingered in his expression. "Yeah, lucky this time. Thanks." His voice was calm, but there was a tension behind it.

Ammarah shifted her gaze to Noor. "And you?"

Noor nodded, her body still trembling slightly from the shock. Omar, catching the interaction, gave a small smile. "Axen, she’s actually a huge fan of yours."

Ammarah, as Axen, allowed a faint smile. "Thank God you’re both safe. What happened here?"

Noor remained silent, her lips tight. Omar stepped in to respond. "A truck went out of control. I’ve already called the police."

Ammarah nodded, glancing at the smoldering wreckage. "Are either of you hurt?"

Both of them shook their heads.

"Good. Don’t let your parents know about this, Omar. They’ve already suffered enough." Her tone grew softer. "I’ll fix your cars." As she finished speaking, the wail of sirens filled the air.

Omar gave a firm nod. "Sure, Axen." He then turned toward Noor. "You alright?"

Noor let out a long sigh. "Yeah, I think so."

Ammarah (as Axen) walked toward the burning cars, approaching the police officers. "They’re safe. I’ll take care of their vehicles," she said with authority.

The officers nodded, letting her pass while one of them began taking statements from Omar and Noor. Another officer picked up his phone, informing Aamaan Ekzel about the situation.

Standing near the wreckage, Ammarah raised her hands toward the cars. Green light pulsed from her palms, spreading over the twisted metal. Within moments, the flames died down, and both vehicles began to return to their original form, fully restored as if nothing had happened.

The area around them was still buzzing with activity when a sleek, black car pulled up, followed by a larger SUV. The door opened, and Aamaan Ekzel stepped out, his face filled with urgency and concern. Two bodyguards followed close behind.

He hurried toward Noor, enveloping her in an embrace. "How’s my princess?" He pulled back, cupping her face with his hands. "Are you alright? We’re going to the hospital. No arguments."

Noor smiled gently. "Baba, I’m fine. Really." She glanced at Omar, her smile deepening with gratitude. "Thanks to Omar, he saved my life."

Aamaan looked from Noor to Omar, then Axen. His eyes softened with relief. "Thank you, son. You’ve saved my world. Whatever you need, anything, it’s yours." He extended his hand toward Omar.

Omar shook it firmly, a respectful smile on his face, though his tone was serious. "She’s safe—that’s all that matters. Thank you."

Aamaan nodded, then turned toward Axen, offering his hand. "Hello, Axen. I’m Aamaan Ekzel."

Ammarah shook his hand, her gaze steady. "Mr. Ekzel, it's good to meet you."

Despite Aamaan's insistence, Noor refused to go with him, determined to resume her routine. "I have college tomorrow," she said with a small smile.

Aamaan sighed but nodded, kissing her on the forehead. "Take care of yourself."

"You too, Baba," she replied softly. "Send someone to drive my car to Mersendise. I’ll go with Omar."

Aamaan agreed and instructed one of his men to accompany them, ensuring Noor's car would follow them back.

As Omar and Noor settled into the car, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Omar’s mind was elsewhere, his grip on the steering wheel tight as he replayed the events. Noor sat beside him, her fingers trembling slightly in her lap.

After a long silence, Noor glanced at him, her voice quiet but sincere. "Thank you, Omar... for saving my life."

Omar, still lost in thought, nodded without looking at her. "You’re welcome." His mind drifted, and the rest of the drive was filled with nothing but the hum of the engine and the echo of what had just happened.

The quiet of the elevator faded as Omar and Noor stepped out, walking silently down the hallway toward their flats. 

As they reached Noor’s door, both came to a stop. She turned to him, her voice soft but sincere. “Thanks, once again.”

Omar glanced away before meeting her eyes again. “No need for thanks,” he said. His brow furrowed as he added, “Does your father have enemies?” Seeing the puzzled look on her face, he clarified, “I mean, he’s a wealthy businessman. People like him usually have haters. Maybe even enemies.”

Noor thought for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m not really sure who they could be.” She studied his face, her curiosity growing. “Why are you asking? You think it wasn’t an accident?”

Omar nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah. It feels like someone was trying to hurt you.”

Noor’s eyes sharpened. “Is that why you stopped me? You knew?”

Omar shook his head and briefly glanced at the white rose pendant hanging from her neck. “I wanted to talk, Noor. How could I have known? What am I, an IIS agent?”

Her gaze stayed fixed on him. “Then how do you figure it was an attack?”

He chuckled, trying to lighten the moment. “Sometimes, it just takes brains.” He teased. She looked away, unimpressed. His tone shifted back to serious as he continued, “Look, the truck came into the wrong lane. If the brakes failed, it wouldn’t swerve like that, and the steering clearly wasn’t stuck. Then there were the explosions—the police found traces of TNT.”

Noor frowned. “You’re overthinking it. Why would a truck driver kill himself?”

Omar looked off into the distance. “He wouldn’t. But the person who sent him might want to make sure he couldn’t talk afterward.” He met her gaze again, his voice lower. “Take care of yourself. I won’t always be there to save you.” With that, he turned and walked away.

Noor watched him as he entered his flat without looking back. She leaned against her door after entering her own apartment, whispering to herself, “He’s right, though. Maybe someone is trying to hurt Baba.”

Omar sat on his couch, his mind far from the TV in front of him. Ammarah, back in her usual robes, sat beside him, her eyes studying his thoughtful expression.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

Omar glanced at her briefly before staring back into space. “This whole thing—Noor’s not Robis’ daughter. I don’t think she is, at least. But it looks like Robis might be trying to kill her because she’s helping us. If that’s the case, he’s doing it indirectly because of her family’s influence. But what influence, other than wealth and the White Circe, could they have?”

Ammarah thought for a moment. “Maybe they have more than one Circe stone. And isn’t wealth and the White Circe enough influence?”

Omar shook his head. “No, it’s not enough. Robis is sharper, stronger, and has way more power behind the scenes. He’s the real power player here. Something isn’t adding up.” He leaned forward, lost in thought. “There are two possibilities. Either Noor really is his daughter, and Aamaan is Robis. But that doesn’t explain who would dare try to kill Robis’ daughter.”

Ammarah leaned back slightly. “And the second possibility?”

Omar took a deep breath. “The second is that she’s not his daughter at all, and Robis is trying to kill her because she’s helping us. But then, why would he need her dead if she doesn’t pose a direct threat to him? There are too many missing pieces.” He hesitated, thinking of something. “Like Hira said, Robis supposedly doesn’t know her secret identity, but this feels like he does. Noor’s family supposedly has influence, but what kind of influence can protect her from someone like Robis?”

Ammarah tilted her head. “Maybe she’s neither his daughter nor his target. Maybe someone else is trying to hurt Aamaan. A man like him must have enemies.”

Omar nodded slowly. “That’s possible too.” He picked up the TV remote, turning on the screen. “We’ll see what happens next.”

He flipped through the TV channels absentmindedly until his thumb paused on one—News24. His eyes widened in shock, and beside him, Ammarah sat up straight, equally stunned. On the screen were his parents, Arham and Elif, walking down a sunlit street, tailed by a male reporter clutching a microphone. The caption below read: "Exclusive: First Interview with Axen’s Parents."

The reporter, breathless with excitement, looked directly into the camera. “We’re the first to find them. We’re going to get their thoughts on the recent controversy surrounding their son.”

He hurried after them, catching up. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Azdar! I'm Sam Haris from News24. You’ve been avoiding the media for some time. Can you tell us why? And what are your thoughts on the former Axen being your son and the current Axen’s false claims?”

Omar’s jaw tightened as he watched. His father, Arham, took a deep breath before responding, his expression strained. “We’ve been keeping a low profile to avoid these very questions. But since you’ve found us... Yes, Hassan was my son, and I’m proud of him for what he did, saving so many lives. As for the other matter, Mr. Robis has met with us and clarified the misunderstanding."

With that, they resumed walking, but the reporter wasn’t finished. He followed them closely, his tone more aggressive. “But what about the crimes your son committed? Sir? Sir…!”

The questions continued, echoing after them as they disappeared from view, the camera lingering on their retreating figures.

Omar’s fury flared, his eyes blazing as he clicked the TV off with a sharp motion. The silence that followed was deafening.

He shot to his feet, his voice tight with anger. “Let’s go.”

Ammarah stood, watching him carefully. “Where?” she asked, but Omar didn’t answer. He was already moving, his mind set on his next step.