The world was still processing what was happening.
The five masked figures were seated. The world leaders were in their places. The desert, once just an empty landscape, was now a stage for history.
Yet, despite all the attention on the stage, one chair still remained empty.
The most important chair.
The sixth seat.
The one that belonged to the true power behind everything.
But while the world searched for answers, Mirshad was not where they expected him to be.
He was not in the private chamber.
Not with the leaders.
Not standing in the shadows, waiting for his grand entrance.
Instead—
He was among the people.
In the private chamber, Sophia and Sara stood beside Mirshad, along with his most trusted soldiers.
The moment of truth was upon them.
Sophia turned to him, confusion flickering in her eyes.
"Mirshad, why aren't you going?"
He didn't answer at first.
Instead, he gave her a small, knowing smile and turned a screen towards her.
On it, the live broadcast of the meeting played. But Mirshad wasn't watching the stage.
His focus was elsewhere.
The camera had caught a glimpse of his family.
His mother. His father. His siblings. His uncles and aunts. His cousins.
And right in the middle, between his parents—two empty chairs.
His place.
His home.
Mirshad exhaled deeply, as if grounding himself in the moment.
Then, without another word, he reached for his mask.
The professional, high-tech mask of the world's most powerful man.
And removed it.
In its place, he pulled out a simple surgical mask, something that would allow him to blend in.
Then—he reached for his suit.
The symbol of his authority.
And took it off, leaving only his plain white shirt.
Sophia's eyes widened. She understood.
This wasn't just about entering the stage.
This was about something much more important.
Before he faced the world—
He needed to face the two people who had given him life.
Without hesitation, he took Sophia's hand in his.
And together, they walked.
Not toward the stage.
But into the crowd.
The journey through the crowd was surreal.
No one paid much attention to him.
To the world, he was just another face among millions.
A man in a simple mask, walking beside a woman in silence.
No security. No cameras following his every move. No grand entrance.
Just a son, returning to his family.
Slowly, he reached the front row of the crowd, where his family was seated.
His parents sat in the middle, their eyes fixed on the stage, waiting for their son.
Not knowing… he was already beside them.
Mirshad stood for a moment, watching them.
His mother's eyes were filled with curiosity, scanning the stage, expecting him to appear any second.
But in reality—he was right next to her.
Slowly, he reached out.
His fingers gently touched her hand.
The moment their skin met, she instinctively pulled her hand back and turned to look at him.
At first, she didn't understand.
A man in a mask.
A stranger.
But then—she looked deeper.
And she saw them.
His eyes.
Golden. Wet with unshed tears.
Recognition hit her like a storm.
She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.
Mirshad whispered, "Maa… how are you?"
She didn't respond with words.
She couldn't.
Instead, she did what only a mother could do.
She curdled him in her arms.
Held him like she had done when he was a child.
The world disappeared for that moment.
There was no meeting. No history being made. No billions watching from their screens.
Just a mother, holding her son.
Mirshad's father, who had been watching the stage with quiet anticipation, noticed the movement beside him.
He turned, his brows furrowing as he looked at the masked man his wife was embracing.
And then—
His gaze shifted down.
To the hand that had just touched his own.
A touch he recognized.
A touch he had held since the day his son was born.
Mirshad looked up at him.
No words were needed.
His father exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening over his son's hand.
For a brief moment, his jaw clenched, as if trying to contain the flood of emotions.
But then—
He simply nodded.
Because he knew.
No explanation was needed.
His son had returned.
Slowly, one by one, the rest of Mirshad's family noticed him.
His uncles. His aunts. His cousins.
They all turned, their faces shifting from confusion—to realization.
One of his younger cousins, eyes wide with shock, whispered, "Brother… it's really you?"
Mirshad pressed a finger to his lips.
A silent command.
Keep quiet.
His cousin swallowed hard and nodded.
They all understood.
For now—this was a secret shared only between them.
Beside Mirshad, Sophia had remained silent.
She knew this was his moment.
But she also knew—she was now part of this family.
Mirshad turned to his mother and father, his voice low.
"I want you both to meet someone."
He gestured toward Sophia.
"This is your daughter-in-law."
His mother, who had barely let go of him, turned her attention to the woman beside him.
For the first time, she truly looked at Sophia.
And then—
She smiled.
Not just any smile.
A mother's smile.
She reached forward, placing both hands on Sophia's face, gently tracing her features.
And then—she pulled her into a deep embrace.
Sophia, caught off guard, hesitated for a moment.
Then, she melted into the warmth.
The love.
The acceptance.
She wasn't just Mirshad's wife.
She was now a daughter.
A part of this family.
A part of his blood.
As the world continued watching the stage, unaware of what was happening in the front row, Mirshad finally stood.
He turned to his parents.
"It's time."
They nodded, understanding that this moment was fleeting.
That the world was waiting for him now.
Sophia stood with him.
Mirshad took a final look at his family and spoke softly.
"Just watch."
"Watch how your son enters the world."
His father clasped his shoulder.
His mother wiped her tears and whispered, "Go, my son. Show them who you are."
Mirshad nodded.
And then—he walked away.
Not as a son.
Not as a brother.
Not as a simple man.
But as the ruler of the world.
The king was about to take his throne.
And the world had no idea what was about to happen next.