The weeks that followed the system's surrender were the strangest of Zaid's life. For so long, his days had been structured by quests and deadlines and the constant hum of obligation. Now, there was nothing. No notifications. No tracking. No invisible hand guiding his choices.He woke up on the first morning of his new freedom and lay in bed for an hour, just breathing. The silence was deafening.His phone buzzed. A message from Khamees: "Wanna Grab some Shawrma?."Zaid smiled and typed back "Sure. You're paying."But the truth was, he didn't know what to do with himself either.---The channel had always been Zaid's engine, his purpose, his proof that he was becoming someone. Without the system's pressure to grow, to perform, to level up, the channel felt... optional. He could post or not post. He could film or not film. No one was watching his analytics with cold, calculating eyes.He sat in his room, staring at his camera, and felt nothing."What's wrong with me?" he asked Khamees,

The weekend arrived like a gift, warm and golden, promising nothing but possibility. Zaid had been planning the desert campout for days, ever since Bassam's custody had been finalized. They needed this, all of them. Just friends having fun."You're bringing who?" Khamees asked when Zaid called to confirm the details."Sami. He's been cooped up in the apartment all week. Mom wants him to get some sun."Khamees was quiet for a moment. "Cool. I'm bringing Tarek."Zaid raised an eyebrow, even though Khamees couldn't see it. "Tarek? Your old camera guy? The one who broke your old camera and then quit?""He didn't quit. He took a sabbatical. And we've been talking. He misses the chaos.""The chaos misses him too."They settled on a spot near the same valley where they'd burned the files—not too close, but close enough to feel connected to something meaningful. The desert was different now. No longer a place of whispers and fear. It was just sand and sky and the promise of good food.---The

The idea came to Khamees in the middle of the night, as most of his terrible ideas did. He was lying in bed, scrolling through comments on their desert vlog, when he saw a request that sparked something mischievous in his brain."You should prank Zaid. He's too calm all the time. I want to see him scream."Khamees grinned in the darkness. A prank. Perfect. Their fans would love it. And honestly, Zaid was too calm these days. All that healing and self-discovery had made him almost serene. It was unsettling.The plan came together over the next few days. Khamees borrowed a humane rat trap from a neighbor who had a pest problem. He caught a small, scruffy rodent—not cute enough to be a pet, not ugly enough to be truly terrifying. Just... rat-shaped.He set up his camera in Zaid's room while Zaid was in the shower, hiding it behind a stack of books on his desk. The plan was simple: hide the rat in a small box, place it on Zaid's bed, then release it when Zaid sat down. Film the scream. Po

The apartment had been too quiet for three days.Zaid noticed it every time he came home—the absence of Sami's music, his laughter, his footsteps in the hallway. His mother tried to hide it, busying herself with cleaning and cooking, but he could see the emptiness in her eyes. She would set the table for three, then catch herself and put away the extra plate. She would make Sami's favorite tea, then stare at the cup as if waiting for him to appear.On the third evening, Zaid found her sitting on the sofa, staring at nothing. The television was off. The kitchen was spotless. She had run out of things to distract herself."Mama," he said gently. "You okay?"She looked up, startled, as if she'd forgotten he was there. "Of course, habibi. I'm fine.""You're not fine. You're sad.""I'm not sad. I'm just... adjusting."Zaid sat beside her. "Sami's not gone forever. He's coming for Eid.""I know." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's just... the house feels cold without him. And y

The awards ceremony was held at a glittering hotel downtown, the kind of place Zaid had only ever seen in movies. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, reflecting light across a sea of tables draped in white linen. People in elegant dresses and sharp suits mingled, their laughter bright and polished.Zaid tugged at his collar. The blue suit fit perfectly, his mother had seen to that but the tie was strangling him."Stop fidgeting," Khamees hissed beside him, looking immaculate in a charcoal gray suit that he had probably spent hours selecting."I can't breathe.""You can breathe. You're just nervous.""I'm not nervous. I'm being slowly suffocated by formal wear."Khamees ignored him, scanning the room. "I see some of the other nominees. The guy from the cooking channel is here. And the travel vlogger. The one who went to Antarctica.""Good for him.""Be nice. This is networking.""I don't want to network. I want to go home and take off this tie.""You're not taking off the tie. Y