Morning has come. The sun rises over the Yada mountains. Musa sits on the veranda. Said and Hussein beside him. Zakia plays in the courtyard. The sound of her laughter drifts over.
Said holds a cup of tea and says, "Musa, yesterday you said you conquered forty countries in one night. What happened after that? How did you come to Bangladesh? And what about that stabbing incident?"
Musa gazes toward the sky. Silent for a long time. The fire in his eyes today is different—as if it's burning, but not blazing. Only smoke rises.
Hussein says, "Commander, if you would tell us..."
Musa takes a deep breath and begins—
Geneva, Switzerland
March 21, 2010 – The Day After Victory
March 20, 2010. I conquered forty countries in one night. The world map has changed. But I couldn't sleep.
Seven-thirty in the morning. I stand on the balcony. Below, Geneva city is waking up. People are busy with their normal lives. They don't know what happened last night.
Dr. Meyer arrives. In his hand is a brown envelope. His face is drawn. Sadness in his eyes.
He says, "Musa, you need to see this. I could have hidden it before, but now the time has come."
I opened the envelope. Inside, a photograph. Maximilian von Kruger. Max. Another photograph—Hans. My old friend, who was once by my side.
Dr. Meyer says, "Full investigative report of Robert and Elizabeth's deaths. General Kruger planned it, but Max carried it out. And Hans was his accomplice. They planned it for two years."
My hands begin to shake. "Why?"
Dr. Meyer says, "Your power. They knew you would become great. They were afraid. So to weaken you, they removed your family."
I tried to tear up the photographs, but Dr. Meyer grabs my hand.
"Wait. There's more."
He pulls out another photograph. A village on the banks of the Meghna River in Bangladesh. In the photo, Max sits with fishermen.
"He's hiding there. For two years. Waiting for you. He knows you'll come one day."
I stand up. Fire burns inside me. Robert's smile, Elizabeth's affection, our last moments together—everything floods before my eyes.
I say, "I'm leaving today."
Dr. Meyer says, "Musa, it's a trap. He knows you'll come."
I say, "I know. But he doesn't know me."
Bangladesh, Banks of the Meghna River, Shariatpur
April 5, 2010 – The Trap
I arrived in Bangladesh on April 5. The country is different. Hot, humid. Green all around. People busy with their lives.
My IDFC people give me information—Max is in a small village in Shariatpur. On the banks of the Meghna River. He's mixed in with local fishermen. He's changed his appearance, grown a beard, but the eyes are the same.
I set out. With me only my sword. I took no one else. I knew this was personal.
By the time I reach the village, evening has fallen. Boats are tied to the riverbank. Fishermen weave their nets. One fisherman sits apart. He has no net in his hands, only waiting in his eyes.
I approach. I say, "Max."
He lifts his head. I recognize the eyes. Those despicable eyes. But there's a smile on his face.
"Musa. Sit down. I've waited a long time."
I don't sit. I say, "Robert and Elizabeth. Why?"
Max smiles. "Because of you. You always wanted to be the best. Your intelligence, your power—you surpassed everyone. My father used to say, 'We have to stop him.' So we stopped you."
I say, "Today I'll stop you."
Max's smile fades. He says, "Stop me? No Musa, today I'll stop you."
He raises his hand and signals. Someone comes from behind. I turn around—Hans. My old friend. The one who once laughed with me, played with me, studied with me.
There's no guilt in Hans's eyes. Only calculation.
He says, "Sorry, Musa. He paid me a lot of money. My family will be safe."
Before I can say anything, Hans plunges a knife. From behind. On the right side. Where my hand can't reach. Where survival is unlikely.
Pain shoots through me. I fall to my knees. Blood pours out. Warm blood. Flowing from my hands.
Max comes close. He leans near my ear and whispers, "Just like your parents died, so will you. But first I want to ask—how does it feel? That Hans, the one you trusted, has just finished you?"
I can't say anything. I just look into his eyes.
Max smiles. Then he signals. Max and Hans together grab me and throw me into the Meghna River.
Cold water. Black darkness. I begin to sink. The current pulls me deeper. The light from above gradually fades.
I surface one last time. I see Max and Hans standing on the bank. Smiles on their faces. Then everything goes dark.
I remember Layla's smile. Father's face. Mother's affection. Grandmother's songs. Robert's smile. Elizabeth's love. Everything dissolves into the river's current.
Then there is nothing. Only darkness. Only emptiness.
Everything ends.
Yada, Present
2026 – The Story Continues
Musa stops. The sun has tilted toward the west. Evening has come.
Said wipes his eyes. Hussein can't look away either.
Said says, "You mean... you really died?"
Musa smiles. A peaceful smile. "Yes, Said. That day in the Meghna River I died. But by God's will—there was an aunt's house there. In that house was a small boy, Mumin. He saw me. You know the rest."
Hussein says, "What happened to Max and Hans?"
Musa looks out the window and says, "Their time will come. Very soon. But that's enough for today."
Zakia runs over. "Uncle! Uncle! Look at my doll!"
Musa lifts the little girl in his arms. She's laughing. In that laughter, Musa now finds the smiles of all the people he's lost.
He says, "Beautiful doll. Go and play with it. I'm coming."
Zakia leaves. Musa looks toward the sky again.
Said and Hussein understood—this man's story will take a long time to end.
Evening sun on the Yada mountains. Musa stands. That fire in his eyes. It's burning. Never extinguished.
Even death in the Meghna River couldn't stop him. What remains are Max, Hans, and those seven.