The tunnel widened as they walked, the walls becoming smoother, more regular. Not natural—carved. The symbols continued here, covering every surface. Laith traced his fingers over them as he passed, feeling the grooves worn smooth by centuries of wind and time.He whispered to himself. "What does it mean?""It means we're close to something," Marwan replied. "Something important. Or something dangerous.""Maybe both."The tunnel opened into a chamber—not a natural cave this time, but a room. A dungeon. Iron bars lined one wall, their surfaces rusted but intact. Chains hung from the ceiling, their ends dangling empty. And in the corner, slumped against the wall, was a figure.Human. Or at least, human-shaped.The figure looked up as they entered. Its eyes were dark, its skin pale, its hair matted and long. It wore rags that might have been fine clothes once, centuries ago. Its wrists were bound in manacles connected to a chain bolted into the stone floor."Who's there?" The voice was r

The basement was cold, but Antar had stopped feeling cold centuries ago. He sat against the wall, his chains pooled in his lap, his dark eyes fixed on the single light bulb that flickered overhead. The sounds of the safe house filtered down through the concrete—footsteps, muffled voices, the occasional scrape of furniture. Life. Normal life . The kind of life he had been denied for so long that he had almost forgotten what it sounded like.The door opened. Hazem descended the stairs, a small plate in his hands. On it was a piece of raw meat—lamb, by the look of it, still glistening, still fresh from the butcher.Antar's nostrils flared. His mouth watered despite himself. He hadn't eaten in days. Not since they brought him here. He needed meat. Raw meat. Blood. The way his kind had always eaten."What is this?" Antar asked, his voice hoarse."Dinner." Hazem set the plate on the floor and sat on the crate across from him, keeping his distance. "I know Ghouls don't eat cooked food. Only

The safe house was burning.Flames licked at the eastern wall, casting dancing shadows across the courtyard. Marwan stood in the breach, his sword a blur of steel and fury, cutting down soldier after soldier. But there were too many. They kept coming. Wave after wave, relentless, unstoppable."Laith!" Marwan shouted over the chaos. "How many are left?"Laith appeared beside him, his face streaked with blood, his breathing ragged. "Too many. They're not stopping. They're not even slowing down.""They want the ghoul. They'll burn this place to the ground to get him.""Then we burn with it."Marwan almost smiled. Almost. "That's the spirit."---Inside the safe house, Hadi was coordinating the defense, his voice strained but steady. The wounded were being moved to the basement, the only place that still offered any protection. Haitham moved among them, binding wounds, offering quiet words of comfort."How much longer?" Hadi asked.Haitham didn't look up. "As long as we can hold.""That's

The aqueduct was in sight. Hazem could see it through the haze of dust and shadow—ancient stone arches rising against the darkening sky, the entrance to the tunnel that would lead them beneath Al-Qasr. Ali ran beside him, the pendant clutched in his hand, his breath ragged but his legs still pumping.They were close. So close.And then the sky darkened.Not with clouds. With wings.Hazem looked up and felt his blood run cold. Dozens of them. Flying Ghouls—leathery wings, razor claws, eyes that burned with hunger. They descended from the cliffs above, screeching, their shadows swallowing the last of the fading light."They found us," Ali said."They were waiting for us."Hazem drew his blade, standing between Ali and the approaching swarm. "Keep running. Don't stop. I'll hold them.""You can't hold all of them!""I can try."The first Ghoul dove. Hazem swung his blade, catching it across the chest. It fell, screeching, but two more took its place. Then three more. Then a dozen.Ali ran

The safe house was gone.What remained was a skeleton of charred beams and crumbling walls, the smoke still rising in thin wisps against the grey dawn sky. The courtyard where Marwan had made his stand was scarred with craters and stained with blood. The eastern wall was a gaping wound, open to the desert beyond.Hazem stood at the edge of the ruins, his hands hanging limp at his sides, his eyes fixed on the destruction. He had led his brothers into battle. He had brought them here. And now they were picking through the rubble, searching for survivors, counting the dead.Haitham appeared beside him, his face pale, his arm in a sling."Marwan is stable," Haitham said. "The doctors say he'll recover. He'll need rest—a lot of it—but he'll be fine."Hazem nodded. "And the others?""Three of Jamil's Knights didn't make it. Two of ours are critical. Laith has a broken arm, but he's refusing to sit still." Haitham paused. "Hadi is... Hadi is handling things.""Handling things?""He's making