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## Chapter 38: *"Echoes of the First Traveler"*
The figures emerging from the horizon were not solid. They flickered like reflections on water, shifting between forms — sometimes human, sometimes something else entirely. Their faces were blurred, as if memory itself had tried to paint them and failed.
Majid stood still, watching them approach. He could feel something stirring inside him — not the Sleeper, not the spiral, but something older. A presence that did not speak in words, only in understanding.
Rana stepped beside him, her voice low.
— Who are they?
The masked figure before them tilted its head slightly, as if considering the question.
> _"They are what remains."_
> _"Echoes of those who walked before the spiral."_
> _"Before names."_
> _"Before even forgetting."_
Majid's breath caught.
He looked at the figures again.
This time, he saw something different.
Not just ghosts.
Not just memories.
But **possibilities**.
Each one carried a version of him — some wore his face, others were shaped differently, but all bore the same mark on their palms. The spiral-shaped burn that had once pulsed with power now faded into silence.
One of them stepped forward.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
With eyes that held galaxies.
He looked at Majid.
And spoke.
His voice was deep, steady, and filled with something close to sorrow.
— You have come far.
Majid swallowed hard.
— Who are you?
The man smiled faintly.
— I was once called **Layth**.
Layla's breath caught behind them.
She stepped forward, eyes wide.
— That's my grandfather's name.
The man nodded.
— And yours.
His gaze shifted to Rana.
— And yours.
Then to the horizon.
— And theirs.
He gestured around him, toward the other figures.
— We were not the first.
— But we were the first to try and stop it.
Majid took a slow step forward.
— Stop what?
Layth looked at him carefully, as if measuring how much truth he was ready to carry.
— The spiral.
Majid's jaw tightened.
— Then why didn't you succeed?
Layth's expression darkened.
— Because we believed it could be broken from the outside.
He paused.
Then added softly:
— But it can only be undone from within.
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### 🔮 Part II: The First Ritual
The space around them shifted again.
It wasn't just a place anymore.
It was memory.
History.
Time folding in on itself.
Layth turned slowly, gesturing for them to follow.
They walked together through the shifting world, past echoes of forgotten lives and stories never told.
Eventually, they reached a clearing — or perhaps a pause in the fabric of reality itself.
At its center stood a stone altar.
Not grand.
Not ornate.
Just ancient.
Covered in spirals carved by hands long gone.
Layth placed his hand on the stone.
It pulsed once.
Then stilled.
— This is where it began.
Majid frowned.
— What did?
Layth looked at him.
— The first ritual.
Majid felt something stir inside him — not fear, not anger, but recognition.
— You opened a gate too.
Layth nodded.
— Yes.
— But not to escape.
— To contain.
He looked around at the figures surrounding them.
— We thought we could trap the Sleeper.
— That we could stop the spiral before it spread further.
— But we were wrong.
Rana narrowed her eyes.
— How wrong?
Layth met her gaze.
— We became part of it.
A silence settled over them.
Heavy.
Final.
Then Layth continued.
— Every traveler who walks the spiral becomes echo.
— Whether they want to or not.
— Whether they believe it or not.
He looked directly at Majid.
— You are not the first vessel.
— And you will not be the last.
Majid's fingers twitched.
— Then how do I end this?
Layth studied him for a long moment.
Then whispered:
— By becoming something else.
He stepped back.
Waved toward the altar.
— Watch.
The air above the stone shimmered.
Images formed.
Not clearly.
Not fully.
But enough.
A vision.
A memory.
A warning.
They watched as Layth — younger, stronger, more certain — stood before the altar.
He raised his hands.
Chanted words that did not belong to any language they knew.
The spiral burned beneath his touch.
And then…
He screamed.
Not in pain.
In understanding.
As the spiral consumed him.
As it rewrote him.
As it made him echo.
The vision faded.
Layth looked at Majid.
— This is your choice now.
Majid stared at the altar.
At the spiral.
At the path that had led him here.
And for the first time since this began…
He hesitated.
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### 🧩 Part III: The Choice of Echoes
One of the other figures stepped forward.
Female.
Her voice was soft, but firm.
— We tried everything.
She looked at Majid.
— Sacrifice.
— Knowledge.
— Even death.
She glanced at Layth.
— None of it worked.
Majid narrowed his eyes.
— Then what did?
The woman smiled faintly.
— Letting go.
She stepped closer.
Her eyes searched his.
— Not fighting the spiral.
— Not trying to break it.
— Just… stopping.
Majid looked down at his palm.
The spiral-shaped mark was barely visible now.
Like a scar fading into skin.
He looked up.
— And if I let go… what happens to me?
Layth answered quietly:
— You become echo.
— Like us.
Majid's breath caught.
— Or you become something new.
— If you're strong enough.
Silence stretched between them.
Then Majid asked the question that had been growing inside him.
— Did anyone ever choose something else?
The woman's smile faded.
— No one has tried.
She looked at Layth.
— Until now.
Layth nodded slowly.
— You stand at the edge of what we could not cross.
— The spiral ends here.
— Or begins again.
Majid looked at Rana.
At Layla.
At Samir, who had remained behind, watching.
He looked at the altar.
At the spiral.
At the path that had brought him here.
And finally, he whispered:
— I don't want to be echo.
Layth's expression did not change.
— Then decide.
Majid closed his eyes.
And chose.
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(End of Chapter)
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