The cracks spread slowly.
Not across the ground.
Across reality.
Thin lines distorted the air around Feroz like invisible fractures inside glass. They appeared for only seconds at a time—
then vanished again.
But each time they returned—
they were closer.
Haroon remained near the edge of the boundary, breathing steadier now, though traces of blood still marked his face.
He hadn't looked away from Feroz once.
Not once.
Because every second—
Feroz felt farther away.
Not emotionally.
Existentially.
Younus stood quietly beside the fading markings of the Circle.
His golden energy moved carefully through the symbols beneath his feet, trying to stabilize what remained connected to the valley.
But it was becoming harder.
The symbols no longer responded consistently.
Some reacted.
Others remained dark.
Like parts of the Circle itself could no longer recognize the space surrounding Feroz.
Ibn Younus touched one of the inactive markings.
Nothing happened.
That alone disturbed him deeply.
"...the boundary is solidifying faster now," he said quietly.
Haroon looked toward him immediately.
"Can it be stopped?"
Silence.
Then:
"...I don't know."
Feroz heard the words faintly again.
Like echoes reaching him through water.
He tried focusing on Haroon.
On Younus.
On the valley.
Anything stable.
Anything familiar.
But concentration itself felt harder now.
Not because his mind was breaking—
Because something else kept pulling his awareness elsewhere.
Toward the shape behind him.
Toward the pressure surrounding him.
Toward the strange familiarity growing stronger inside his chest.
Feroz clenched his fists.
The mark on his arm reacted instantly—
glowing softly beneath his skin.
Not violently.
Calmly.
Like it had accepted something.
That frightened him more than instability ever had.
Because instability could be fought.
Acceptance could not.
The silhouette behind him shifted again.
Closer now.
Still unfinished.
Still distorted.
But no longer difficult to look at.
Its outline had become smoother.
Sharper.
More human.
More him.
Feroz looked away immediately.
And the moment he did—
the pressure around him tightened slightly.
Not painfully.
Correctively.
Like reality disliked rejection.
Zarqaan noticed the reaction.
"...interesting."
Haroon looked toward him sharply.
"What is?"
Zarqaan remained focused on Feroz.
"It responds to resistance."
Younus's expression hardened slightly.
"Don't analyze this like an experiment."
Zarqaan finally looked toward him.
"It became an experiment long before today."
Silence followed.
Because no one could deny it anymore.
Feroz suddenly staggered slightly.
The valley flickered around him again.
For a brief second—
everything changed.
The ground beneath him became black stone.
The air turned cold.
The distant tree appeared again.
Massive.
Ancient.
Watching.
Then—
reality snapped back instantly.
Feroz inhaled sharply.
Haroon stepped forward instinctively—
then stopped himself.
The boundary distorted immediately the moment he moved.
"...what did you see?" Haroon asked.
Feroz stayed silent for several seconds.
"...another place."
Younus noticed something important immediately.
He didn't say:
"I saw a vision."
He said:
"another place."
That difference mattered.
A lot.
Because it implied presence.
Not observation.
Ibn Younus slowly stood.
"...the threshold has started."
Haroon looked toward him.
"What threshold?"
Ibn Younus stared at Feroz carefully.
"The point where separation stops being temporary."
Those words settled heavily across the valley.
Feroz felt them too.
And strangely—
part of him already knew they were true.
The silhouette behind him suddenly moved.
One step.
Not toward Feroz.
Around him.
Like it was studying him from different angles.
Its movement was unnatural.
Too smooth.
Too precise.
Haroon's body tensed instantly.
But Feroz—
didn't move.
Because the longer he looked at it—
the harder it became to see it as something separate from himself.
That realization terrified him.
The silhouette stopped beside him now.
Same height.
Same posture.
Its face remained unclear—
but not empty anymore.
Features were beginning to form.
Incomplete.
Unstable.
But forming.
Younus activated more of the Circle markings instantly.
Golden light spread through the valley floor.
The silhouette paused.
The pressure around Feroz reacted immediately.
For the first time—
it became unstable again.
The air trembled violently.
Distortions spread outward in every direction.
Feroz grabbed his head suddenly.
Pain exploded through his mind.
Not physical pain.
Overlap.
Memories.
Places.
Voices.
None fully his.
The silhouette reacted too.
Its form destabilized sharply.
Haroon saw the opening instantly.
"Younus!"
Younus understood immediately.
Golden energy surged through the markings.
The valley shook violently.
For one brief moment—
the boundary weakened.
Haroon moved.
Fast.
Ignoring the pain.
Ignoring the distortions tearing against him.
Closer.
Closer to Feroz.
This time—
he almost reached him.
Almost.
Then—
everything stopped.
The silhouette turned toward Haroon.
And the boundary closed instantly.
Harder than before.
Haroon was thrown backward violently across the valley.
The impact cracked stone beneath him.
Feroz's eyes widened.
"HAROON!"
But the voice that left his mouth—
didn't sound right.
It echoed twice.
One human.
One not.
Silence fell immediately after.
Everyone froze.
Even Feroz.
Because they all heard it.
The second voice.
The silhouette slowly turned back toward Feroz.
Its face flickered again.
And for one horrifying second—
it looked exactly like him.
Not older.
Not distorted.
Exact.
Feroz stepped backward immediately.
The pressure around him intensified sharply.
The valley trembled again.
Cracks spread through the Circle markings faster now.
Ibn Younus stared at the boundary with growing fear.
"...it's too late."
Younus looked toward him sharply.
"What are you saying?"
Ibn Younus didn't look away from Feroz.
"The threshold already accepted him."
Those words changed everything.
Because acceptance meant permanence.
And permanence meant:
Feroz was no longer simply being separated from them.
He was becoming connected to somewhere else.