### Chapter 25: *"Knock, Knock, Knock"*
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The knocking didn't stop.
It continued — three knocks, then silence, then three more.
Like a code.
Or a warning.
Rana turned slowly toward the wall.
— That room is sealed. There's no door. No window.
Fatima took a step back.
— Then how is someone knocking *from inside*?
Layla moved closer to the wall, her fingers tracing the spiral-shaped carvings.
They were warm now.
Humming.
She looked at Majid.
— What did you mean… "someone wants in or out"?
Majid tilted his head again.
— I meant exactly what it sounded like.
Before anyone could respond, the knocking stopped.
Silence.
Then a voice came from behind the wall.
Soft.
Familiar.
— Rana…
Her breath caught.
That was her mother's voice.
But her mother had died twenty years ago.
:-|
— No… that's not possible.
The voice spoke again.
— Open the door, Rana.
— You know where the key is.
Majid stepped forward.
His eyes still black. Still hollow.
— This isn't your mother.
Rana turned to him, anger flashing.
— How do you know?
— Because if this were your mother, she wouldn't knock.
He paused.
— She would just be here.
The wall shimmered.
A crack formed down the center.
And then, slowly, impossibly… the stone began to peel away.
Not breaking.
_Unfolding._
Behind it stood a figure wrapped in shadows.
Tall.
Still.
Its face was hidden, but when it spoke, its voice was layered — like many people speaking at once.
— The Hollow Man has opened the fifth gate.
— Now we see if he can bear what follows.
Samir stepped forward cautiously.
— Who are you?
The figure tilted its head.
— We are the Echoes of the Spiral.
— We watch.
— We wait.
— And now… we return.
Layla whispered:
— Return from where?
The figure looked directly at Majid.
— From within you.
For the first time since the ritual, Majid looked uncertain.
His hand twitched.
His breathing slowed.
And for a moment — just a moment — his eyes flickered back to normal.
Just long enough to whisper:
— Help me…
Then the figure raised a hand.
And the world shifted.
Everyone felt it.
Like gravity had changed direction.
Rana staggered.
So did Fatima.
Only Samir and Layla remained standing.
Because they had already touched the spiral.
They had already begun to change.
The figure stepped through the opening in the wall.
And said:
— The sixth gate waits.
— But not for long.
Then it vanished.
As if it had never been there.
Except for one thing.
On the floor, left behind.
A single eye carved into a piece of obsidian.
Still pulsing.
Still watching.
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