The chamber was silent. Not from fear. Not from confusion. But from something deeper. Respect. Reverence. Mirshad lay unconscious at the center of the grand hall, his body still glowing with the remains of divine energy. The one they feared… had just saved them from something far worse. And now, he slept.
Rayyan stood in the center. Eyes calm. Voice steady. "From today... everything changes." They had seen enough. They had felt the scream that shook every dimension. And now, the time for decisions had come.
One of the underworld Dons stepped forward, his voice unsure. "What do we do now?" Rayyan turned his gaze to Mirshad. Then back to the room. "You protect him. You protect his memory. His name. His soul."
The Tribunal lowered their heads. The Dons followed. The kings of cartels. The old rulers of death and darkness. Even they were broken men now — shadows beneath a sun. One of them, a warlord who once ruled nations through fear, said quietly, "We thought we were powerful. But when he screamed… I realized the truth. We were ants standing before the eye of creation." Another Don added, "He gave this world light. We… brought shadows. Let the shadows serve him now."
Rayyan raised his hand. Silence fell again. "No more blood for profit. No more trades of death. No more shadows without purpose. From now… we protect what he built." He turned to the Tribunal elders. "You — keep his truth hidden until he's ready. And if the world ever dares to threaten him again… we rise not as enemies… but as guardians."
Rayyan stepped forward. "We'll erase every trace of his awakening from public memory." The elder nodded. "We create layers. Barriers. Shields of lies that hide the truth." One of the Don followed. "And if anyone still dares to dig… we bury them. No mercy."
An elder brought out a scroll — older than the stars. Marked with the Eye of All Knowing. Written in god-blood. A scroll that no one had touched since the age before creation. Each Don stepped forward. Each blood-soaked warlord. Each ancient Tribunal member. They placed their hands on it. One by one — pasts were erased. And the oath was made.
Then Rayyan and the reapers When they touched it — the scroll glowed like a newborn sun. The elder whispered, "Let this be the world's final oath. The Creator sleeps… but we will not."
They turned to Mirshad. He hadn't opened his eyes. He hadn't spoken a word. But his presence still ruled the room. One ancient voice broke the silence. "Let the world forget who he is… but let us never forget the day the gods bowed."
And as the oath burned golden into history… for the first time ever — the darkest lords of the world became defenders of peace. Not for gold. Not for pride. But for one boy…
The boy who was more than a man.
The Creator.