Harith adjusted his collar as he stood before the door of Tamir Farha's apartment. He took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell's button.The door swung open to reveal Tamir, his tailored suit immaculate as always, though his sharp eyes betrayed surprise. "Harith? It's been years." "Too long," Harith agreed with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. Tamir stepped aside. "Come in. It's been so long my dear friend." The apartment was as refined as its owner, gleaming hardwood, shelves lined with leather-bound books, the faint scent of strong perfume lingering in the air. Harith accepted the coffee after he took a seat. "I'm sure you heard," he said without preamble. "About the theater incident." Tamir's cup paused midway to his lips. "Oh?" "No bodies," Harith said bluntly. "No files. The whole thing was staged." A beat of silence. Then Tamir set his cup down with deliberate care. "I've had... suspicions. Too many inconsistencies. But Harith" His voice dropped. "Do

Harith pushed open the front door of his house, as soon as he entered he noticed his wife. She stood in the hallway, arms crossed, her expression tight with frustration. "You’ve been coming home so late lately," she said, her voice sharp. "I thought once you retired, you’d finally stay home with your family and help me raise the kids. But instead, you found some 'Knights' group to volunteer with, and now you’re gone all day. I don’t even know where you go!" Harith exhaled, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Mashallah, as soon as your husband steps into the house, you start nagging and complaining, then act surprised when he doesn’t want to come home." His wife’s face flushed with anger. "Nagging? Is that what you call it when I ask you to be a father to your children?" Their voices rose, sharp words flying back and forth until, in a final burst of fury, she shoved him toward the door. "Get out!" Harith stumbled onto the doorstep, the door slamming shut behind him. With nowh

Ali sat hunched over his laptop, frustration tightening his grip on the mouse as he scrolled through the dark web. He had spent days contacting hackers, but each one demanded unreasonably high fees upfront, refusing to share any useful information without payment. Sighing, he leaned back and rubbed his tired eyes. This wasn’t working. After several fruitless days, he went to the Knights’ headquarters and found Hazim. The older man looked up from his desk as Ali entered. "You look exhausted," Hazim remarked, studying Ali’s weary expression. "I’ve been studying alone for days," Ali admitted, dropping into a chair. "I couldn’t find anyone to help me." Hazim frowned. "No luck with the hackers?" Ali shook his head. "They all want money first. I don’t trust any of them." He hesitated before continuing. "There’s a method I’ve been thinking of trying, but I need to run a simulation first before attempting it on the airport system. The problem is, building a simulation program requir

When they were young, Haneen's older brother, Hatem, always walked her home from school. At fourteen, he was protective of his ten-year-old sister, holding her hand when the path grew rough, carrying her backpack when it grew heavy, and sometimes when she really pouted—giving her a piggyback ride. Their home lay two kilometers away from the school, nestled in a rural stretch of land where the winding trail cut through valleys, farmland, and sprawling olive groves. Sometimes, to save time, they'd take shortcuts through the fields.One afternoon, the sun burned mercilessly overhead as they trudged home. Haneen, sweat trickling down her temples, dragged her feet and whined, "Hatem, my legs hurt. Carry me!"He smirked, ruffling her hair. "You're too big for that now. Come on, keep up!""But it's hot!" she groaned, pouting."Then we'll run. The last one home will do the dishes." With a laugh, he took off ahead, kicking up dust as he sprinted down the path.Haneen huffed, stomping after him

Harith was packing his bags to travel with Hamdan to search for the actor and actress who had fled to Europe. His wife stood quietly in the room, not saying a word to him as she watched him pack suddenly. She didn’t ask where he was going or why, didn’t offer to help him pack, didn’t even argue or object to the trip. She remained completely silent. At night, Harith gathered his three children and asked them to sit with him on the couch. His wife was present and sat with them. He explained to his family that he was traveling for an important work trip and might be away for a while—he didn’t know exactly when he would return, maybe a few months, but he promised to call them every day and bring them gifts when he came back. His youngest son, five-year-old Mohammed, asked, "You’re going with your knight friends, right? Are you going to kill monsters?" His father laughed, pulled the boy into his lap, and told him no, he was going for a different kind of work, and unfortunately, they