Mumin stands before General Crane. That strange light is still in his eyes—the light the General failed to understand.
The General smiles. "You've agreed to work with us. A very wise decision. Now you will go to our research facility. Everything is prepared for you there."
Mumin nods. "I agreed. But I have one condition."
The General's brow tightens. "A condition?"
"I want to meet your Head of State. The one who runs this country. The one behind all these plans. I will not work without seeing him."
For a moment, the General says nothing. Then he bursts into loud laughter. "Do you even know what you're asking? Our Head of State does not meet anyone. He stays in the most secure location on Earth. No intelligence agency in the world can find him. And you want a meeting?"
"Yes," Mumin replies calmly. "If I don't meet him, I won't work. You can kill me—or send me back home."
The General stares at him, surprised. Where did this mad boy get such courage?
After a long silence, the General finally says, "Very well. I will try. It will take time to get permission. He is extremely busy. And extremely dangerous. If you make one wrong move in front of him, your death will be certain."
"I understand."
The General signals. Two soldiers enter.
"Take him to the research facility. Deliver him safely."
They place Mumin into a black car. It drives through the gray streets of Imolodia.
Mumin looks out the window. Tall, colorless buildings. Silent people. Heavy air.
Suddenly the car slows.
On the side of the road stands a massive compound—high concrete walls, barbed wire, guard towers. Inside are rows upon rows of people. Women. Children. Elderly. Their clothes are filthy. Their eyes carry the mark of death. Some sit on the ground. Some cry. Some stare at the sky.
Mumin turns to a soldier. "What is that?"
The soldier glances outside. His voice is dry. "That is our prison. But not an ordinary one. An entire nation is kept there. We brought them from different countries."
"Why?"
"They resisted us. They spoke against our project. We destroyed their country. Those who survived were brought here. They work for us—from morning to night. Hard labor. Poor food. Beatings. No medical care. They die slowly."
Mumin's throat tightens. "Such oppression? What was their crime?"
The soldier gives a cold smile. "Crime? They were obstacles. Imolodia will rule the world. Those who stand in our way are removed. That's the rule."
Mumin stares through the window.
An old woman sits on the ground, holding a small piece of bread. She breaks it in half and feeds a crying child beside her. She gently strokes the child's head.
Tears fill Mumin's eyes.
"Allah… what is happening here?"
Inside him, Musa roars, "Destroy them! Get out and kill them all!"
But Mumin restrains him. "Not now. It's not time."
The car moves forward. The prison fades behind them—but the image does not leave Mumin's mind.
At the research facility, Mumin is placed in a large room. Advanced machines. Walls covered in monitors. Everything modern. Everything controlled.
But Mumin has something else to do.
He asks for a phone. The soldiers hand him a satellite phone.
He dials his home number.
After a few rings, his mother answers.
"Hello?"
"Ma, it's me. Mumin."
"Mumin! Where are you? You've been missing since yesterday! Your phone was off! We've gone crazy worrying!"
Mumin lies calmly. "Ma, I'm in Paris. I suddenly received an urgent invitation to a major computer programming event. It's very important. I'll have to stay for some time. Don't worry."
"Paris? So far away? Why didn't you tell us before?"
"It happened suddenly, Ma. I didn't have time. Tell Baba. Tell Masud. I have to hang up now. Make dua for me."
"Allah Hafiz, my son. Stay safe. Call regularly."
"Allah Hafiz, Ma."
He ends the call.
Tears fall from his eyes.
Musa whispers, "You lied to them."
Mumin replies quietly, "I lied to protect them. If they knew, they would try to come. And they would die. Everyone dies here. Like the people in that prison."
Musa falls silent.
Mumin walks to the window. Outside, the sky of Imolodia is gray. No sun. No warmth.
He whispers, "Ya Allah, You brought me here. You gave me this responsibility. Give me strength. Strength to stop them. And send mercy to the people in that prison."
The door opens.
A man in a white lab coat enters. "Mr. Mumin? Your testing will begin now. Please follow me."
Mumin steps toward the door. Behind him remains the window—and beyond it, the prison where a nation cries.
He knows from now on, he will think of them every day. He will try to free them. But first, he must discover who the Head of State is. Where he hides. How to stop him.
The General said meeting him would be nearly impossible.
But Mumin knows—nothing is impossible for Allah.
He walks into the laboratory.
A new chapter begins.
The story of a believer.
Of a madman.
Of a so-called superhero—who is not truly a superhero, but a weak human being who places his trust in Allah alone.