Morning had arrived on the banks of the Ubhiya River. The red glow of the sun reflected on the water, making it look like flowing blood.
Musa lay on the bed, staring out the window. His body was broken, but his mind was stronger than ever. This was a memory from months ago—the days after he and Zakia survived the fall from the bridge.
The door opened and Saeed walked in. Behind him was a woman wearing a hijab, kindness in her eyes. In her arms she carried a small girl, around three years old. Behind them came a boy, about six, hopping excitedly into the room.
Saeed said,
"Musa, let me introduce you to my family. This is my wife—Nadira."
Nadira smiled gently.
"Assalamu alaikum. How are you feeling now?"
Musa nodded slightly.
"Alhamdulillah. Much better. Your kindness feels like a blessing."
Saeed called the boy.
"Amir, come forward."
Then he lifted the little girl and said,
"And this is Sara—our princess."
Amir stepped closer to Musa with curiosity.
"Are you really a warrior? Father said you fought many battles."
Musa smiled faintly.
"Little friend, I only tried to survive."
Sara looked at Musa and suddenly said,
"Uncle's eyes are glowing!"
Everyone laughed. But Musa's eyes truly held a fire—an unusual fire. The fire to protect Zakia. Not the fire of revenge, but the fire of justice.
Saeed walked toward the window and stood beside Musa. Then he said quietly,
"There's something I need to tell you."
Nadira took the children and left the room. Now only Musa and Saeed remained.
Saeed looked out at the Ubhiya River and began speaking slowly.
"This river is called Ubhiya. It changed my life. Twenty years ago, I was not living here. I lived in the royal palace."
Musa was startled.
"In the palace?"
Saeed nodded.
"Yes. My father was the president of this country. The president of Imolodia at that time—President Omar Al-Saeed."
Musa's eyes widened.
"You… you are the president's son?"
Saeed closed his eyes for a moment, as if the memory was still alive inside him.
"I was seven years old then. My father was a good man. He wanted people to live peacefully. He never wanted war. Even under pressure from United Ameron, he never betrayed his own country."
His voice grew dry.
"At that time there was another man—General Morgan Cross. He was a relative of ours, very close to my father. But in his eyes there was ambition. He wanted to become president. And United Ameron was helping him."
Musa listened silently. When he heard the name United Ameron, a spark appeared in his eyes.
Saeed continued,
"One night Morgan Cross came to meet my father. They had a meeting late at night. I was asleep. Suddenly I woke up to gunshots. I hid and saw—Cross had entered the palace with his men. They surrounded my parents."
Musa's expression froze.
Saeed said with a trembling voice,
"My father looked at me one last time and said, 'Son, run. Stay alive. Live for this country.' I ran. Behind me I heard gunfire. Cross killed my father and mother. I escaped across the Ubhiya River and found shelter here. Cross never found me. He thought I had died too."
Musa whispered,
"President Morgan Cross… I know him. He is the one who caused the bridge incident."
Saeed looked at him in shock.
"You know him?"
Musa nodded slowly.
"Yes. Recently he killed many innocent people before my eyes. Zakia's parents too."
Saeed fell silent for a while. Then he said quietly,
"But Cross's time will end as well. His own general—General Crane—will betray him. I've learned that Crane is also a tool of United Ameron. They used Cross to take control of Imolodia. Now his role is finished, and they will remove him."
Musa looked surprised.
"How do you know this?"
Saeed replied,
"News travels even among fishermen. Information from inside the palace reaches here. Crane is preparing. Within a few weeks, Cross will die. And Crane will become the new president—a puppet of United Ameron."
Inside Musa's mind, everything began connecting.
Cross had killed Saeed's father.
And soon Cross himself would be killed by his own general.
And behind everything—United Ameron.
Musa slowly stood up, ignoring the pain. He placed a hand on Saeed's shoulder.
"Saeed, now I understand who stands behind these killings. Cross, Crane, and United Ameron—they are all connected. We must find them. We must stop them."
Saeed looked uncertain.
"Do you think you can do it?"
Musa shook his head slightly.
"Not now. The time has not come yet. For now, we must survive. Remember your father's words—live for this country."
Saeed fell to his knees and looked up at the sky.
"Father… do you know I'm alive? Do you know I think of you every day?"
Outside, the laughter of Amir and Sara could be heard. Zakia was still unconscious, but alive. Nadira was preparing tea. The Ubhiya River was calm. But beneath its blue surface lay thousands of hidden stories—of pain, hope, revenge, and justice.
Musa walked to the window and whispered,
"Saeed, your father lives within you… within Amir and Sara. And Cross? His time will end too. Crane will kill him. But even that will not bring justice. Justice will come when the seven behind United Ameron answer for what they have done."
Saeed did not fully understand. He remained silent.
The sun had fully risen over the Ubhiya River. A new day had begun. Musa did not yet know that months later he himself would kill Crane—separating his head from his body. And by then, Crane would already have killed Cross.
But the Ubhiya River knew.
The story that began on its banks would end far away, much later.