The heavy door creaked as Ali pushed it open, the sound unnervingly loud in the otherwise silent compound. He stepped inside, feeling the weight of the tension in the air, and immediately the temperature seemed to drop. The room beyond the door was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the walls. The faint smell of dust and something metallic lingered in the air, making Ali's stomach churn.
He scanned the room quickly, trying to make sense of it. It was unlike any part of the compound he had seen before—spartan, cold, and almost clinical. There were no ornate tapestries or lavish furniture like in the sheikh's other rooms. Instead, the walls were lined with shelves filled with unmarked containers and strange objects, some of which Ali couldn't even begin to identify. At the center of the room stood a large, wooden table, cluttered with papers, documents, and what appeared to be old books.
Ali's heart pounded as he stepped further inside. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of Sonia. The door had led him to a small corridor, and at the end of it, another door stood ajar. Without thinking, Ali moved toward it, his hand reaching out to push it open.
The room beyond was far darker than the hallway. There were no lights, no windows. But as his eyes adjusted, he could make out a figure seated in the center of the room, her back to him. The faint sound of breathing reached his ears, and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the silhouette.
"Sonia?" Ali's voice broke the silence, his words barely above a whisper.
The figure tensed, her shoulders stiffening, before she slowly turned around. Sonia's face was pale, her eyes wide with fear, but there was something else in her expression—a deep sadness, a resignation that Ali hadn't seen before.
"Sonia, what's happening? Are you alright?" Ali rushed to her side, kneeling down in front of her. His voice was urgent, filled with desperation. He could feel the panic rising in his chest. "Malick told me you were in danger. We need to get you out of here."
Sonia didn't respond immediately. Instead, she looked at him, her gaze distant, as if she were seeing something far beyond him. For a moment, Ali thought she might collapse, but then she blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and placed a hand on his arm.
"You don't understand, Ali," Sonia said, her voice low and shaky. "It's too late. There's no way out of here."
Ali's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? We can leave, we can go somewhere safe. We just need to—"
"Ali, no!" Sonia's voice was sharp now, cutting him off. She gripped his arm tightly, her fingers cold and trembling. "It's not that simple. We're all trapped. The sheikh controls everything. You think you can just walk away, but there's no escaping him. No one ever leaves this place. Not if they've seen what we've seen."
Ali recoiled slightly, trying to process her words. He had always known the sheikh was dangerous, but he hadn't fully grasped the extent of his power until now. The sense of control that the man had over this compound, over everyone in it, was suffocating. But even so, Ali wasn't ready to give up. Not when Sonia was in danger.
"We'll find a way out," Ali said, his voice steady now, despite the turmoil inside him. "I won't let him control us, Sonia. You're not alone. I'll make sure of it."
Sonia shook her head, her face contorted with sorrow. "You don't understand," she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "We're already part of this now. You, me, Malick… we're all trapped in the same web. And if you keep fighting it, you'll only make things worse."
Ali's stomach twisted as he listened to her, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He wanted to believe that there was still a way out, that he could save them all, but deep down, he knew that the situation was far more complicated than he had realized. The sheikh's grip on this place, on all of them, was absolute. And even if they managed to escape, what would happen to the others? What would happen to Malick?
Suddenly, there was a loud noise from behind him—footsteps, heavy and deliberate. Ali's heart raced as he turned toward the sound, instinctively pulling Sonia behind him. A figure appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway.
For a moment, Ali couldn't make out who it was, but then the figure stepped forward, and his breath caught in his throat.
It was Malick.
But this wasn't the Malick he knew. His face was set in an expression of cold determination, his eyes hard and devoid of the warmth they once held. He was dressed differently now, in a dark suit, his posture rigid and unyielding.
"Malick?" Ali breathed, his voice filled with disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
Malick didn't answer immediately. He just stood there, his eyes scanning the room, before he spoke.
"You shouldn't have come here, Ali," Malick said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You've already made your choice. And now you have to live with the consequences."
Ali's heart sank. "What do you mean? Malick, this isn't you. You don't have to do this."
But Malick just shook his head slowly, a bitter smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"You think I'm the same person you left behind in Africa?" Malick asked, his voice low and cold. "You think that after everything I've seen, everything I've done, I'm still the same? You were always too idealistic, Ali. You wanted to save the world. But that's not how things work here. Not in this world."
Ali took a step forward, his chest tight with frustration. "This isn't right, Malick! You've changed, but I haven't given up on you. We can still leave. We can still fix things."
Malick's expression darkened, and for the first time, Ali saw a flicker of anger in his eyes.
"You don't get it," Malick spat. "There's no fixing this. There's no going back. We made our choices the moment we set foot in this place."
The words hit Ali like a slap in the face. He had hoped, so desperately, that Malick could be saved—that there was still a chance for them to escape this hellish nightmare. But now, as he stared into his friend's eyes, he realized that Malick had already made his decision. And there was no going back.
The silence between them stretched on, heavy and suffocating, before Malick finally spoke again.
"I'm sorry, Ali," he said, his voice quieter now, almost regretful. "But this is where our paths diverge. You're on your own from here."
And with that, Malick turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.
Ali stood there, frozen, staring after him. The room felt smaller now, suffocating. He had lost Malick. He had lost his best friend. And Sonia… Sonia was right. They were all trapped.
But there was no going back now. Ali's resolve hardened. He wouldn't give up. Not yet. He still had one choice left.