{Outside The Projection}
The projection flickered, showing Malik standing tall, a new aura around him.
Everyone in the room was watching closely, but it was clear they were all a little lost.
"...What does that mean?"
Another of the younger guild members quickly followed up:
"Not everyone here knows the old language... someone wanna explain?"
The hall shifted, most of the crowd looking for an answer.
Azeem stood up, letting out a quiet sigh as he turned to face them, his gold obnoxiously jingling.
"Alright, alright, as you've heard, his Divine Essence is called Jahannam."
Seeing as none of the elders bothered explaining, he decided to be the one who'd clear this up.
"In the old tongue—it means Hell. Yeah, Hell. The same one we know. A place of torment, fire, suffering."
He paused a little to let that sink in.
"...It's a place where you get broken down to nothing, only to rise again. Reborn in a way."
Azeem kept going, his tone a little more tense now.
"The Sultan's been through his own Hell—literally. But it isn't just about the suffering; it's also about burning away everything that isn't strong enough to survive. It's why he became the way he is."
He looked back at the projection.
"The fire... it changes you."
{Inside The Projection}
It felt like it shouldn't make sense, at least not completely; something was off, paradoxical.
But to Malik, it was perfect.
That name—it was him.
Every internal scar, every death, every agonizing blink—it was all there, burning in the flame.
This was his soul, untamed, bright, and fierce.
Not just a little, either.
To the point that a smile nearly made it on his face.
Yet, before it could, the sting of Sinbad's death came back.
His "little brother."
That pain was fresh, and his heart never once stopped aching from it.
The golden fire burning inside him felt right, sure.
But it wasn't enough.
It could never fill the void Sinbad's death left behind.
Malik chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.
It'd take years—or maybe even longer—to get back to anything resembling normal.
Not that Malik believed that was even possible anymore.
His 'normal,' whatever it may be, felt like a foreign concept now.
Sighing his lungs out, his eyes drifted across the cave and fell on the book he'd tossed earlier.
He went and picked it up, flipping it open.
The damn thing had been a lifesaver, literally, and now it was just a shell.
Its title had faded to nothing, and the pages were blank.
But Malik had learned not to trust first impressions.
And sure enough, when he got to the last page, he found what appeared to be Rafiq's notes.
The notes weren't just some random scribblings; they were information.
Maps, locations, secret shit Rafiq had kept for himself.
It was all about the First Layer, the kind of information Malik needed.
The map Rafiq had jotted down was rough, but it was enough to make sense of the layout.
First thing Malik noticed was the section he was in—Althawul.
As he had already assumed, this section of the first layer followed a pattern.
A simple pattern at that.
The four seasons. Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter.
What made it not so obvious was that summer would periodically take over a different season other than its own.
It made sense considering how hot the planet was.
Each reset occurred at midnight, exactly on the dot.
If he wanted to get out of there, he needed to waste not a moment on relaxing.
To the southeast was the Manara Al-Badiyah, or the Lighthouse of the Dawn.
Malik's eyes narrowed at the name.
He was still not used to that big thing.
A lighthouse, out here in the middle of nowhere.
It was tall, sitting like a lone finger pointing at the sky, marking something important.
One of the only structures still standing in this Godforsaken layer, and judging by Rafiq's notes, it was where most fire-aligned monsters were spotted.
'...It's where I gotta go next.'
That section had a few 'exit points' that Malik assumed to be areas that allowed them to go back out Al-Fawra.
He didn't know why only a few areas were highlighted exactly, but he was sure there was a reason for it.
Something caught his attention far north of where he was, past the river.
Some fantastical mushroom forest—yes, a whole forest made up of towering mushrooms.
The drawings showed them to be as massive as the trees around him.
Apparently, this was a "beginner zone."
The safe area for noobs like him when they first entered the First Layer.
Malik's hand tightened on the edge of the journal as he stared at the mark for the camp, rage bubbling up in his chest.
That was where Rafiq's group was holed up, using one of the mushrooms as shelter.
Eating, sleeping, laughing. While their man had done—
Malik slammed the journal shut, cutting off the thought before it could spiral.
He didn't need to picture it again.
"I don't know how long it'd take me..."
He looked outside the cave, his eyes directed towards the river behind the hills.
"But I'll end all your sorry lives."
His eyes glowed a bright gold.
Malik would burn the entirety of the first layer down if he had to.
Althawul, the mushroom forest, the lighthouse, everything.
{Outside The Projection}
A variation of those words rippled through the crowd.
Before, they'd seen him change—seen flashes of the Sultan they knew.
But now? Now it was more than just that.
Malik began walking the path of blood, something which, to their knowledge, he hadn't walked before that point in time.
It was a complete change of mentality.
Still, none of those watching were dumb enough to think this meant smooth sailing for him.
But what they did know was that whatever came next... Malik wouldn't apologize for it.
He'd suffer, sure. But he wouldn't cry. He wouldn't beg. He wouldn't fear.
Malik would simply act.
And he'd keep walking his path of fire and blood.