***
{Outside The Projection}
The hall wasn’t just cold anymore—it was freezing.
Not from the temperature, of course; it was the tension.
They were glued to the projection, their expressions a display of awe.
Their Sultan was ‘alive’ until yesterday.
That meant that he killed the Roc as escaping it was impossible.
At least not with Safira and Jasmine in tow.
He, an Al-Saif, was up against a Div, a Fiend, a monster with four Aether Cores.
Usually, such an achievement wouldn’t be that extraordinary, but Rocs?
Especially adult ones?
They were something else.
What was hard became nearly impossible.
And the state of those who realized that reflected it.
However… not all of them were like that.
While they were all high-ranking Magi, it didn’t mean that they dove into Al-Fawra.
Of course, many of them might’ve, but they had likely not gone up against a Roc.
Those monsters weren’t so common, you see.
In turn, that made most of the hall split into small groups.
Distinct, each discussed different aspects of what they’d just seen.
One particular group ignored the threat completely.
They were more interested in the emotional aspect.
“Did he even sleep?”
“No, I think he’s been cultivating instead.”
“Insane… really.”
“Guess his mind’s been upgraded by all those deaths.”
“Yeah. No Al-Saif would survive otherwise.”
“I don’t dare say that’s a good thing.”
“Me neither. Lady Safira and Jasmine were the only color in his life, and now?…”
“Forget all that—did you see his face?”
A woman in the middle of them hissed.
“How can someone even look like that?”
“It’s what happens when you lose too much.”
An older man muttered, his tone bitter.
“You stop looking for a way back and just… keep walking forward.”
A hush fell over them as Malik’s figure on the projection continued to reverse his time.
“You think Lady Safira realized the extent of his… loss?”
A young woman in a different group asked, voice soft.
“That he’s willing to shut them out completely just for it to lessen a smidge?”
“Of course, she did!”
“You think they’re blind?”
“They were just too scared to do anything about it.”
“Scared?”
The young woman echoed, frowning.
“Why would they be scared of him?”
A scoff came from a young man next to her.
“You saw what he did to those slavers, didn’t you? Would you want to be the one to push him?”
“But… he saved them. How can they think that?!”
He shook his head.
“Emotions aren’t logical, I’m afraid. Besides that wasn’t all they thought.”
While those two went back and forth, another group, more interested in the owl, spoke loudly:
“Was that… Was that an Uluka?!”
“No way! Didn’t they go extinct?”
“Extinct my ass, back then they might’ve been hella rare, but they were still spotted every ten or so years… Though I do admit, this color is a first.”
“I know right? Crimson and pink is extremely unusual.”
“Who cares about the color?! It’s still a monster, and they don’t just show up like that.”
“Yeah, why was it there?”
“You think it was just passing by, or…?”
“Or what?”
Someone scoffed from the corner.
“You think it came to warn him or something?”
“Actually, that’s exactly what I think.”
A round of murmurs rippled through them as they went on and on.
A round that didn’t quite reach the group next to them.
These Magi were the loudest in the crowd, and for good reason.
“Holy—”
“—shit!”
“That’s… that’s a Roc!”
“That’s a full-grown, pissed-off adult!”
“Oh, they’re so screwed!”
“Screwed? They’re past that!”
Another barked, gesturing wildly at the projection:
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“You see the size of that thing? Its talons could snap a whole house in half!”
“And the Sultan?! He just stood there like an idiot!”
“Hey, he moved eventually.”
“Yeah, after staring at it like a kid seeing a monster under his bed!”
“What? Don’t forget he was twelve… or thirteen. I don’t know at this point.”
“Either way, seeing a Div so suddenly NATURALLY shocked him.”
“Either way, either way, he was swallowed whole. Twice now.”
“He seriously has bad luck… huh.”
The hall fell quiet again.
Though only for a moment.
“…Okay, but what’s the plan here? How’s he supposed to go past this?”
“Return by death, of course~.”
“I’m not asking about that you idiot!”
“I know~ but who cares? Don’t question it and watch. We’ll know soon enough.”
A dumbass, who surprisingly stayed, sighed, sounding annoyed.
“Great. So we’re stuck watching him die over and over until he figures it out.”
“At least it’ll be entertaining.”
Both of them earned glares from those around them.
“Entertaining?”
“This isn’t a damn game.”
“Sure, it’s the Sultan, but he’s fighting for his life in there.”
The group fell silent… again, shame washing over them.
And yet, as they turned their attention back to the projection, even they couldn’t deny it.
For all the cold, the distance, the horror, the shock, the tension, and the envy.
They were hooked.
Because if anyone could find a way out of this mess, it was Malik.
There was something about him that held them captive.
Fear, maybe.
Or perhaps just the raw, brutal humanity of someone trying—and failing—to hold themselves together.
That was something special.
And they were damn sure they weren’t going to miss a second of it.
***
{Inside The Projection}
Malik’s eyes shot open.
The world snapped back into focus, and he stood in the same place as before—feet crunching against the grass, Jasmine and Safira just behind him, their whispers barely audible.
The faint rustle of the wind played around them, carrying the soft coo of the crimson owl as it glided past.
Slowly, he closed his eyes and exhaled a sigh.
He didn’t panic; there was no room for that now.
He turned sharply towards the little ones, his voice cold.
“Both of you. Back away. Now.”
Jasmine blinked, startled.
“W-W… What are you talking about?”
Safira frowned, her brows knitting together in confusion.
“Teach, what—”
“Move! NOW!”
The intensity in his tone left no room for argument.
They exchanged a brief, uncertain glance but obeyed, retreating behind a tree in the distance.
Safira’s mouth opened, no doubt to ask another question, but Jasmine grabbed her arm, shaking her head.
Malik didn’t explain further.
He didn’t need to.
The ‘explanation’ they wanted was on its way.
And he would make his stand here to welcome it.
A stand before the answer… a stand before death.
His grip tightened on his shamshir, the familiar weight grounding him.
The air grew heavy.
The ground trembled beneath their feet.
The sky parted.
It arrived.
SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!