The broken watch felt cold in Feroz's hand, heavier than it should have been. He stared at the frozen time—3:30 AM—and a strange pressure filled his chest, as if the moment itself was watching him back.
"Why this time?" Feroz asked quietly. "Why does everything lead back to it?"
Yusuf turned away, scanning the forest. "Because some moments are not just moments. They are anchors."
Mrs. Aliya frowned. "Anchors to what?"
"To fate," Yusuf replied. "And sometimes… to mistakes."
They moved forward again, but the forest no longer felt the same. The trees seemed closer now, their shadows stretching across the narrow path like fingers reaching for Feroz.
With every step, flashes struck his mind.
A park bench.Police lights.People whispering.A body under a tree.
Feroz stopped suddenly.
"I've seen that place before," he said.
Mrs. Aliya turned sharply. "Seen it how?"
"In my head," Feroz answered. "Not like a dream. Like a memory that hasn't happened yet."
Yusuf's jaw tightened. "That is dangerous."
"Or useful," Feroz snapped. "You keep telling me half-truths. If I'm going to die there, I deserve to know why."
Yusuf stepped closer, his voice low. "Listen carefully. The future you saw is not a punishment. It is a result."
"A result of what?"
"Of choosing the wrong sacrifice."
They reached the edge of the forest, where an old road cut through the trees. The asphalt was cracked, forgotten by time.
Mrs. Aliya looked uneasy. "This road… it leads toward the city."
"Yes," Yusuf said. "And eventually, to that park."
Feroz felt his stomach drop. "So we're walking toward it?"
"No," Yusuf replied. "We're walking around it. For now."
A sudden sound echoed behind them—a slow clap.
Clap… clap… clap.
A man stepped out from the shadows of the trees. He wore a dark coat, his face calm, familiar in a way that made Feroz's blood turn cold.
"You're running in circles," the man said.
Mrs. Aliya gasped. "No… it can't be—"
Feroz stared at him. "Who are you?"
The man smiled slightly. "Someone who already knows how this ends."
Yusuf's hand moved to his blade. "You shouldn't be here."
"And yet," the man replied, "here I am."
His eyes locked onto Feroz.
"Tell me, boy," he said softly, "when the time comes… will you jump, or will you be pushed?"
Before anyone could react, the man stepped back into the darkness—and vanished.
The forest fell silent once more.
Feroz's hands trembled. "That wasn't a Hunter."
"No," Yusuf said grimly. "That was a Messenger."
Mrs. Aliya whispered, "The Free Masons are no longer hunting."
Feroz looked down at the watch again, its hands still frozen.
"They're waiting," he said.
Somewhere in the future, under a quiet tree in a city park, time was already counting down.
And Feroz had begun to feel it ticking.