"What are you waiting for?" Khan asked, his voice firm yet deep, filled with a mix of curiosity and caution.
Silence settled around them. All eyes were fixed on the dark-robed figure standing like a stone statue, unmoved by the piercing desert wind of the night.
"Waiting for someone," Arash replied, his tone quiet but sharp. "Someone who can inherit the spirit of the Great Sultan. The true soul of a leader who built Samsara—not through bloodline, but through the worthiness of the soul."
Khan fell silent. The words hit like a soft blow—not painful, but shaking.
"None of the previous generations had it," Arash continued. "No crown prince, no general, no noble ever showed that sacred fire. We... merely served under obligation, not from the heart."
Arash stepped forward slightly. "But you... you left the palace not out of weakness. You rejected power because you knew it would destroy you. You returned... not to seize the throne, but to save your mother."
