The view of Mazar-i-Sharif from above seemed peaceful, lost in the hum of the markets and the daily lives of people. However, in the upper floors of the luxury apartment belonging to the Yunus family, a heavy atmosphere prevailed. Yunus sat in the living room with his sons, Khalid and Walid.
Flipping through the newspaper, he remarked, "Strange... two murders in Siah-Gird Alley! It's interesting that such a thing happened in the safest district of the city."
Walid shrugged. "Perhaps it was a personal vendetta. After all, safety for common people is always fragile." Yunus warned in a grave tone, "In any case, keep your eyes open. Tell the younger ones to be vigilant."
Khalid, lost in thought, asked, "Father, don't the other Houses interfere in these matters?" Yunus gave him a deep look and replied, "My son, the Great Houses—like the Aryans, the Silvars, or the Bladenmoores—don't enter criminal matters so easily. Every wrong step they take could be an excuse for a Great War between the Houses. They prefer a display of power, not senseless conflict."
With pride, Khalid asked, "Does that mean they have someone at my level?"
His father answered without hesitation: "One hundred percent! Even more powerful than you. So get the thought of conflict out of your head. As your father, I ask you to avoid any tension." Khalid nodded in silence. "As you wish, Father."
The sun was setting on the horizon of Mazar-i-Sharif, turning the city into a vivid orange. Khalid stood on the balcony, staring at the horizon. In his mind, he challenged the warriors of the other Houses: "If fate permits, I will have a meeting with all of you."
A little further away, in Sudais's home, the warmth of family flowed. The sound of laughter and the smell of dinner filled the air. Sudais looked at the happy faces of his loved ones and said to himself, "How good it would be if every night was like this... if I were stronger, maybe I could make this security permanent."
10:22 PM.
Everyone was asleep, but Sudais was staring at the ceiling. Dark thoughts wouldn't let him go. He gave a bitter smile. "Heh... such lofty thoughts. I'm too tired to rise again. What can a wounded soul and a tired psyche do?"
Suddenly, the scene of the fight, the sensation of the bullet's impact, and the blood spilled came to life in his mind. A shiver ran through his body, but his eyes suddenly changed; they became cold and decisive.
"From every perspective, this was just a practice for me..."
Then, in the silence of the room, he made a vow to himself: "Be ready... I will send you all, one by one, to meet God."
He slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Morning began with the first rays of sunlight piercing through the curtains. The voice of Sudais's mother came from behind the door, gentle yet firm: "Sudais, my son… wake up. It's late for the shop."
Sudais opened his eyes, a frown etched permanently on his face. The fatigue from last night still weighed down his bones. He muttered under his breath, "Alright, Mom… alright." He forced himself out of bed and stood before the mirror. Something had shifted deep within his eyes. After washing up and pulling on his jumper, he headed out.
The streets of Mazar-i-Sharif were bustling as usual, but Sudais was no longer the same young man. Before, he would either stare nervously at the crowd or avoid eye contact; today… every step he took carried weight. He moved with a calm authority, as if the entire street belonged to him. No one dared block his path.
He reached his father's metalworking shop in the Coppersmith District. The pungent smell of metal and the ear-splitting clang of hammers filled the air. Dafid, his father, smiled upon seeing him: "Welcome, my son. Take a seat."
The day passed with the usual chores. By late morning, the exhaustion from that mysterious power weighed on Sudais, and amid the relentless hammering, he slipped into a deep sleep at his desk.
Suddenly, two men burst into the shop aggressively. One slammed his hand on the wooden counter, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
"Hey! This merchandise you gave us isn't what you promised! Why did you cheat us?"
Dafid, remaining calm and patient as always, looked at the goods and spoke slowly and with respect: "Sir, you didn't buy this from me. You must be mistaken."
The man shouted, "Now you won't take responsibility? Give me my 3,000 Afghanis back!"
Dafid repeated softly, "Sir, please calm down… this is not my work."
But the man grew more violent: "I'll take it by force! I'll tear this shop apart!"
Sudais awoke instantly. His eyes were icy cold. He stood up and said in a voice that sent shivers down the spine: "Hey… this isn't the place for a fight. Either lower your voice or leave. We owe you nothing."
The accuser, startled, snapped: "Oh! You just woke up, kid. You don't know what you're saying! Will you pay me, or should I smash this shop?"
That struck a nerve in Sudais. He stood fully upright. "Oh? You'll destroy the shop? Come… try it!"
The man tried to slam the counter again, but Sudais moved faster. His hand shot out, striking the man's face with a force that seemed beyond his own strength, sending him flying back several meters.
Groaning in pain, the man rose, shouting: "I'll crush your bones!" He and his companion lunged at Sudais. All the coppersmiths paused to watch. The first man tried to grab Sudais, but before he could touch him, a heavy elbow struck under his chin. Sudais grabbed his collar and rained a series of punishing strikes, leaving the man's face bruised and bloody.
At that moment, the second man drew a knife. "Sudais! Behind you!" Dafid screamed.
The knife was inches away, but Sudais spun with unnatural speed, catching the attacker by the face and flinging him to the side like a scrap of paper. The man hit the ground and didn't move.
Only Sudais and the first man remained. Sudais gripped him by the collar, fist clenched. "You were going to destroy the shop, right?"
Dafid and his uncle, Basir, rushed in and held him back. Basir recognized the man: "Let him go, Sudais. He's a notorious liar." They dragged the man out in disgrace. Basir said with concern, "Sudais, what was that? We have a reputation here."
Sudais panted, "Uncle, if I hadn't acted, they would have taken advantage of us."
That night, Dafid recounted the incident to Sudais's mother, his voice a mix of awe and fear: "Madam, today Sudais… it was as if he didn't know fear. If I hadn't stopped him, he would've killed that man. I looked into his eyes… it was like he was someone else."
His mother listened, her face pale with worry. She looked at Dafid and warned him sternly: "Dafid, do not encourage him. You must be careful about these things. He should not be drawn into these games; he doesn't belong in that world."
Late at night, Sudais jolted awake, drenched in sweat. His mother rushed to the door: "What's wrong, son? A nightmare?"
Gasping for breath, Sudais said, "Nothing… just… I need some water."
After she left, he looked at his hands. In his dream, he had stood over his own body, and a voice screamed across the world:
"Now, it's YOUR turn!"
He turned onto his side, but he couldn't fall back to sleep.