The long dining table stretched across the hall like a bridge between two worlds — the world of war they had left behind, and the world of peace they had stepped into. Food filled every inch of it. Dishes from childhood memories, traditional flavors, and new recipes created by the island chefs mixed together in beautiful harmony.
Mirshad walked in, face fresh, steps light, and eyes glowing with calm.
Everyone was already seated — his family, cousins, siblings, uncles, aunts, parents, and his brothers in arms. Conversations buzzed across the table like music. Smiles everywhere. For a moment, no one carried titles. They were all just one big family.
As Mirshad took his seat, Amir leaned toward him.
"Brother… just asking… what kind of sleep was that? If a nuclear bomb exploded beside you, would you still be snoring?"
Laughter erupted from both sides of the table.
Jabir smirked.
"I think we all turned into fireflies waiting for your body to stop glowing. I was this close to throwing water on you."
Malik nodded.
"Honestly, I thought we needed a manual just to wake you up."
Rayyan raised his glass.
"To the only man who can glow in his sleep and still make us wait for lunch."
Even Mirshad laughed.
"Relax, I was just enjoying my dream."
Sophia, who sat beside him, smiled softly.
"What dream, husband?"
Mirshad turned to her, his expression peaceful, like he had just returned from another world.
"I saw us… together… with three children."
The table went silent for a breath.
"Not two. Three," he continued. "One of them was a girl. Beautiful like you. The other two… they could fly. They had strength. I was just sitting there in the dream, watching them laugh and lift into the sky."
Sophia froze for a second. Her eyes met his.
"And?"
He smiled.
"Even in dreams, it felt real. Like I wasn't just dreaming… but remembering something that hasn't happened yet."
Sophia looked down, a smile breaking across her face. A different kind of smile. A quiet storm.
Around the table, whispers passed like wind.
Rayyan leaned close to Baba.
"Did he just say three?"
Baba nodded.
"And that they can fly."
Amir whispered to Malik.
"He has no idea. But he just described their number and powers. Brother…"
Malik replied softly.
"He is seeing the future. Without knowing."
But no one said a word out loud.
They kept it hidden.
Because if what he dreamed was real… then their brother not only carried power — he carried time inside him.
Sara broke the silence with a playful shout.
"Okay, forget the flying babies. Who's eating the last piece of chicken?"
Everyone burst into laughter again. The moment shifted back into joy. Plates were passed. Glasses clinked. Teasing returned.
Jabir pointed at one of their uncles.
"Uncle, stop acting like you're shy. That's your third plate of rice."
The uncle laughed.
"It's peace rice. I eat with happiness."
Uncle wiped his mouth and grinned.
"If we lived here for one month, we'll all turn into round warriors."
Mirshad's father, usually quiet, raised a toast.
"To the family that eats together, jokes together, and glows without warning."
Even the Phantom Reapers were smiling, laughing, and sharing jokes with the cousins. For once, they were not shadows or soldiers — they were brothers and sisters.
Sophia placed her hand on Mirshad's knee under the table. He turned to her.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
She whispered.
"No reason. Just… happy."
He smiled back.
And in that moment, with plates half-filled and hearts completely full, no one cared about glowing, powers, or prophecy.
They were simply home.
They were family.
But deep down, in every heart at that table, one truth echoed silently:
Their brother dreamed of the future.
And it was already waiting for him.