The sun had finally bowed to the horizon, leaving behind a sky dipped in gold and purple. The echoes of laughter from the football field still danced in the air, but now the island breathed a slower rhythm — one of warmth, quiet smiles, and the gentle promise of night.
After the intense match, the family returned to their rooms to freshen up. Steam curled from bathroom mirrors. Water splashed. The sound of cousins arguing over shirts, of uncles humming old songs, of the Phantom Reapers calmly brushing off the dust from their uniforms — filled the halls.
Mirshad stood beneath a cold shower, water running down his face, eyes closed. He wasn't thinking of the match. He wasn't thinking of power. For once, his mind was clear. At peace.
And outside, something special was being prepared — a night like no other.
By the beach, under the stars, the long dining table stretched like a ribbon of light. Lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze. Warm lights hung from palm trees. Cushions and low seats surrounded the area. Plates were set, dishes ready, yet untouched. The ocean whispered nearby.
One by one, they arrived.
Children ran to the edge of the shore, kicking sand and giggling. Mothers smiled under shawls. Cousins sat cross-legged, teasing each other. The Reapers looked around with awe, unused to such peace. Even Baba and the uncles had tucked in their shirts, looking cleaner than usual.
Then came Mirshad, dressed simply. A plain black shirt. Calm eyes. Barefoot, like home.
As he approached, Rayyan stepped forward, clapping his hands once.
"Tonight," he announced, "before we eat, we play."
Everyone looked at him with curiosity.
"This is not a game of speed, or strength. It is a game of meaning. Mystery. Memory. And it is only for one man."
He turned to Mirshad.
"For you, brother."
A smile touched Mirshad's lips.
"Why me?"
Rayyan gestured toward the three puzzle tables set nearby, each glowing softly with light.
"Because you hold answers you haven't asked yet. And tonight… you will meet them."
The family sat in a half-circle. The waves behind them. The wind brushing through palm leaves. Silence settled in. The moment had begun.
On the first table, a small glowing cube. No lock. Only a note resting on top of a tiny white sock.
Mirshad picked it up and read.
"What is soft, warm, and fits in the palm of your hand — but holds your future?"
He smiled without hesitation.
"A baby's foot."
A gentle chime rang. The box unlocked. Everyone clapped softly.
Inside, nothing more than a second sock… and a folded piece of paper.
He opened it, but it was blank.
He looked at Rayyan, who only nodded.
"Next."
This time, a silver spoon rested on a velvet pad. A note beside it.
"This feeds the one who will feed your soul.
What do you think you're preparing for?"
Mirshad paused for a moment. Thought. Then said,
"A child."
Another chime. The box clicked open.
Inside was a golden thread, and wrapped around it, a second blank piece of paper.
He looked at Sophia, who was watching with soft eyes.
Still… he said nothing. No suspicion. Just curiosity.
The final table. A slightly larger box. Inside, a folded onesie, pure white, stitched with glowing thread.
On the chest of the onesie — a single symbol.
Three stars.
No note. No question. Only the symbol.
Mirshad blinked.
"Why… three?"
He turned it in his hands, confused.
The silence was thick.
Then Amir stood.
"You asked that question today."
Mirshad looked up.
"You said you dreamed of three children. One beautiful girl. Two who could fly."
Jabir added.
"We thought it was just a joke. But now…"
Rayyan stepped forward.
"You thought it was fantasy. But it was the future knocking."
Mirshad's breath slowed.
His fingers gripped the onesie tighter.
His heart felt… something he couldn't name.
Then Sophia stepped forward, holding a small gold paper in her trembling hand. Her voice barely a whisper.
"Read this."
He took the note. Unfolded it.
The words glowed faintly under the night lights.
"I was never just your dream.
I am your legacy.
We are waiting for you.
Your children."
His hands dropped.
His eyes found hers.
"Is it true?"
She nodded, eyes filled with tears and joy.
"We're going to be parents."
A wave passed over him. Not of shock. Not even of fear.
But of something ancient.
He looked again at the three stars.
Then back at Sophia.
He stepped forward and embraced her gently, forehead resting on hers.
"Three stars…
One dream…
And now…
My reason to live."
Everyone stood. Cheering softly. Clapping. Laughing. Crying.
The wind picked up.
But the center of the night was quiet — a man holding his future, not with pride or power, but with peace.
And the truth settled deep in every heart that watched.
Mirshad had met his children…
Before the world even knew they existed.
Because some souls don't just see the future.
They carry it.