Chapter Fifteen: Secrets of Sinai
The weeks following Majid's successful retrieval of his grandfather's knowledge were
filled with intense study and careful preparation. They had relocated the materials to a
secure location—a small apartment above a spice shop owned by an elderly friend of
Layla's who had no knowledge of temporal matters but was fiercely loyal to the
bookshop owner who had helped his family through difficult times.
Majid divided his time between his normal routine—school, family interactions,
measured social engagements—and secret sessions studying the texts from the hidden
library. His father had noticed his increased absences, had asked questions about his
late nights and distracted demeanor, but Majid had explained it away as dedication to a
special research project for the debate team. The lie came easily, his emotional
connection to his father intact despite the close call during the Third Level ritual.
The book on the Five Levels had proven to be a treasure trove of information, filling gaps
in their understanding of temporal advancement and confirming much of what they had
pieced together from fragmented sources. The Fourth Level ritual was described in
meticulous detail—the physical components required, the geometric patterns to be
drawn, the precise words to be spoken during the ceremony.
But the sacrifice required—the "surrender of certainty" about a fundamental aspect of
one's identity or purpose—remained troubling in its implications. Majid had spent many
hours contemplating what certainty he might be willing to sacrifice, what absolute
conviction he could surrender without compromising his core motivations.
The scrolls about the Gates had revealed equally valuable information. Each of the seven
Gates was located at a site of significant temporal resonance—places where the barrier
between normal reality and the Void Between Worlds was naturally thinner. The Gate
beneath his grandfather's house was one of these, situated at the intersection of several
ley lines that created a natural weakness in the fabric of reality.
The rituals to open the Gates varied in complexity, but all required specific components
and abilities corresponding to the level of the Guardian protecting each Gate. The Gate
beneath his grandfather's house, guarded by Samir Al-Zahrani, required a Fourth Level
Traveler to open—which aligned with Majid's developing plan to advance to the Fourth
Level before confronting the Third Guardian directly.
But perhaps the most intriguing discovery had been the Void Lens—the crystal sphere
that pulsed with inner light, that Layla believed might allow direct communication with
entities in the Void, including potentially the Observer itself. According to notes they had
found accompanying the sphere, it required attunement to a specific Traveler's temporal
signature before it could function as a window into the Void.
This attunement process was complex, requiring a journey to a location of extreme
temporal resonance—a place where the barrier between worlds was particularly thin,
where the Traveler's connection to the Void could be strengthened through specific
rituals.
"Mount Sinai," Layla had said after studying the notes carefully. "According to your
grandfather's research, it's one of the most temporally resonant locations on Earth—a
place where the barrier between our reality and the Void is naturally permeable. The
attunement ritual must be performed there, at the summit, during the dark of the
moon."
And so, on a clear spring night, Majid found himself climbing the ancient paths of Mount
Sinai in Egypt's Sinai Peninsula, the Void Lens carefully packed in his backpack alongside
the components needed for the attunement ritual. Layla and Rana had remained in
Saudi Arabia, maintaining their normal routines to avoid attracting attention from the
Door Keepers, who had increased their surveillance following the breach of the hidden
library.
Majid had traveled to Egypt alone, using a school geography trip as cover for his absence
from home. Once in Cairo, he had separated from the group, claiming illness, and had
made his way to the Sinai Peninsula by bus and taxi. The journey had been long and
tiring, but as he ascended the mountain under the starlit sky, he felt a growing sense of
anticipation, of connection to something beyond normal reality.
The temporal resonance of the location was palpable to his Third Level senses. The
mountain seemed to pulse with ancient energies, layers of time overlapping and
intertwining like a complex tapestry. As he climbed higher, Majid began to perceive thin
spots in the barrier between worlds—places where the Void was visible as a shimmering
distortion in the air, where shadowy forms moved on the other side of reality.
Void Walkers, watching his ascent with what felt like intense curiosity. But unlike
previous encounters, where some had pressed against the barrier with predatory intent,
these entities maintained a respectful distance, observing but not attempting to cross
over. It was as if the mountain itself imposed certain rules of behavior, constraints that
even beings from beyond normal reality were compelled to obey.
The summit was deserted when Majid reached it shortly before midnight. During the
day, it would be crowded with tourists and pilgrims, but at this hour, under the moonless
sky, he had the ancient holy site to himself. Following the instructions in his
grandfather's notes, he found a flat area near the small chapel that crowned the
mountain and began preparing for the attunement ritual.
The physical components were simple enough—a circle drawn with a mixture of ash and
crushed minerals, seven small candles placed at specific points around the perimeter,
the Void Lens positioned at the center. But the true power of the ritual lay in the
Traveler's focused intent, in the alignment of their temporal signature with the natural
resonance of the location.
As Majid completed the preparations, he became aware of a change in the atmosphere
around him. The air seemed to thicken, reality becoming more fluid, the barrier between
worlds thinning to near transparency. Through his Third Level perception, he could see
the Void more clearly than ever before—not just glimpses of shadowy forms, but a vast,
shifting landscape of potentiality, of realities overlapping and intertwining in patterns
too complex for ordinary human comprehension.
And there were presences there, entities of varying sizes and complexities, some merely
curious observers, others more purposeful in their movements. Void Walkers of different
types, existing in the spaces between timelines, drawn to this location of extreme
temporal resonance.
Majid took his position at the center of the circle, the Void Lens before him, and began
the ritual. The words were in an ancient language, one he didn't understand but had
memorized from his grandfather's notes. As he spoke them, the candles ignited
spontaneously, their flames unnaturally still in the night air.
The Void Lens began to respond, the pulsing light within it intensifying, synchronizing
with the beating of Majid's heart. He placed his hands on either side of the sphere, not
quite touching it, and continued the chant, focusing his intent on establishing a
connection between his temporal signature and the crystalline structure of the Lens.
The pain began gradually, a warmth in his fingertips that spread up his arms and
throughout his body, increasing in intensity until it felt as if his blood had been replaced
with liquid fire. But Majid maintained his focus, his consciousness hovering above the
pain, observing but not consumed by it.
The Void Lens began to levitate slightly, rising a few centimeters above the ground,
rotating slowly as the light within it shifted from its original amber hue to a deep, pulsing
blue. The air around the ritual circle shimmered, reality bending like heat waves over
desert sand.
Then, abruptly, the pain ceased, replaced by a profound sense of connection—not just to
the Lens, but to the Void itself. Through the crystal sphere, Majid could see into the
spaces between timelines with unprecedented clarity, could perceive the complex web
of realities that comprised the multiverse.
And there, at the center of his perception, was a presence unlike any he had encountered
before—vast, complex, composed of countless intertwined consciousnesses yet
somehow unified in purpose. It radiated an awareness that transcended normal human
comprehension, a knowledge that spanned all possible timelines simultaneously.
The Observer. The collective consciousness formed by Travelers who had reached the
Fifth Level and chosen to transcend physical existence entirely. The entity that the Door
Keepers had imprisoned behind the seven Gates, preventing it from freely sharing its
knowledge with humanity.
Majid felt its attention turn toward him, felt himself being examined with an intensity
that should have been overwhelming but somehow wasn't. There was no malice in its
scrutiny, no judgment—only a profound curiosity, an interest in this Third Level Traveler
who had successfully attuned a Void Lens and established direct contact.
Then came a voice—or not a voice exactly, but a communication that translated itself
into words in Majid's mind, a synthesis of countless individual consciousnesses speaking
as one.
"Majid Al-Harthi," it said, the sound both within and without his head. "Grandson of
Abdul Karim. Heir to a legacy that spans multiple timelines. We have been waiting for
you."
"You know me?" Majid asked, his own voice seeming small and insignificant in
comparison to the vast presence he was addressing.
"We know all possible versions of you, across all potential timelines," the Observer
replied. "In some, you reach the Fifth Level and join us. In others, you fall to the Door
Keepers' opposition. In still others, you abandon the temporal path entirely, returning to
an ordinary life. All possibilities exist simultaneously from our perspective."
"And in this timeline? What happens to me here?"
"That remains undetermined. You stand at a nexus point, a moment where multiple
potential futures diverge based on choices yet to be made. We cannot see with certainty
which path you will follow."
It was both reassuring and unsettling—to know that his fate wasn't predetermined, that
his choices still mattered, but also to realize that the Observer, with its vast perspective
across all timelines, couldn't predict his specific future.
"Why have the Door Keepers imprisoned you?" Majid asked, focusing on the cosmic
struggle he had inherited from his grandfather. "Why prevent humanity from accessing
your knowledge?"
"Fear," the Observer replied simply. "Fear of change, of disruption to established power
structures. The Door Keepers began with noble intentions—protecting reality from
destabilization through uncontrolled temporal manipulation. But over centuries, their
purpose has shifted. Now they seek primarily to maintain their own authority, to prevent
challenges to their control over temporal knowledge."
"And if you were freed? If the Gates were opened?"
"We would share our knowledge with those prepared to receive it—not indiscriminately,
but with those who have developed the wisdom to use it responsibly. Humanity would
gain understanding of the multiverse, of the true nature of time and consciousness, that
would transform your civilization's development."
"Is that why my grandfather tried to open the Gates? To free you?"
"Abdul Karim understood the potential benefits of our knowledge," the Observer
confirmed. "He reached the Third Level in your timeline, was preparing for the Fourth
when the Door Keepers intervened. They prevented his advancement, but they could
not destroy his consciousness entirely. He exists now in the Void, neither fully part of our
collective nor entirely separate from it."
"Can I speak with him?" Majid asked eagerly, the possibility of direct communication
with his grandfather suddenly seeming within reach.
"Not through this connection," the Observer replied. "The Void Lens allows
communication with our collective consciousness, but not with individual entities within
it. To speak directly with Abdul Karim, you would need to enter the Void yourself—
something only a Fifth Level Traveler can do safely."
The implications were clear—if Majid wanted to communicate directly with his
grandfather, he would need to continue advancing through the levels, eventually
reaching the Fifth and gaining the ability to enter the Void Between Worlds without
losing his individual identity.
"The Fourth Level ritual," Majid said, returning to his immediate concerns. "The sacrifice
of certainty. What certainty should I surrender?"
The Observer was silent for a moment, its vast consciousness seeming to consider the
question carefully. "That is a deeply personal choice," it finally replied. "But consider
this: what certainty, if surrendered, would open you to greater understanding rather
than limiting your potential? What absolute conviction, if released, would allow growth
rather than constraining it?"
It was a perspective Majid hadn't considered—viewing the sacrifice not as a loss but as a
potential opening, a release from limitations rather than a surrender of strength. But
before he could pursue this line of thought further, he sensed a disturbance in the
temporal currents around the mountain—a focused awareness, a searching presence
that could only be a Door Keeper detecting the unusual concentration of temporal
energy generated by his communication with the Observer.
"You are being sought," the Observer confirmed, apparently sensing the same
disturbance. "A Door Keeper has detected our connection—not Samir Al-Zahrani, but
another. The Sixth Guardian, Elias Nassar, responsible for the Mediterranean region
including Egypt."
"I need to leave," Majid said, already calculating escape routes, ways to evade detection
long enough to descend the mountain and return to more populated areas where he
could blend in.
"Yes. But before you go, take this knowledge: the Fourth Level ritual as described in your
grandfather's book is accurate but incomplete. There is an additional component
required—a catalyst that will stabilize the transformation, preventing the disorientation
that typically accompanies advancement to this level."
"What catalyst?" Majid asked urgently, sensing the Door Keeper's presence growing
closer, more focused.
"Water from the Well of Zamzam in Mecca, collected during the night of Laylat al-Qadr. It
must be added to the ritual components described in the book, used to dissolve the
prepared solutions before application."
It was specific, unexpected information—a detail not included in his grandfather's
otherwise meticulous documentation of the ritual requirements. "Why isn't this
mentioned in the book?" Majid asked, confused by the omission.
"Abdul Karim intended to add this information but was prevented by the Door Keepers'
intervention before he could complete his documentation. We share it now to ensure
your successful advancement."
The disturbance in the temporal currents was intensifying—the Sixth Guardian homing
in on Majid's location with increasing precision. "Go now," the Observer urged. "The Lens
is attuned to your temporal signature. You can establish connection with us again from
any location, though the clarity will be greatest at points of natural temporal resonance."
Majid quickly gathered the ritual components, extinguishing the candles and carefully
packing the Void Lens in his backpack. The connection with the Observer faded as he
broke the ritual circle, reality solidifying around him as the barrier between worlds
thickened once more.
He didn't wait to see if the Door Keeper would physically manifest on the mountain.
Using his Third Level abilities, he created a temporal pocket around himself, accelerating
his local time to move with preternatural speed down the ancient paths. The effort was
intense, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool night air, but it gave him the
advantage he needed to put significant distance between himself and the pursuing
Guardian.
By the time he reached the base of the mountain, the temporal pocket had collapsed
from the strain of maintaining it for so long. But he had achieved his goal—he was now
among the small cluster of buildings that served the tourists and pilgrims who visited
the holy site, his presence masked by the normal temporal signatures of the sleeping
inhabitants.
Majid found a small hotel that was still open, paid for a room with cash, and collapsed
onto the bed, physically and mentally exhausted from the ritual and his rapid descent.
But despite his fatigue, his mind was racing with the implications of his direct
communication with the Observer.
The collective consciousness formed by Fifth Level Travelers who had transcended
physical existence had confirmed much of what he had learned from his grandfather's
materials and from Tariq—the Door Keepers' shift from protectors of reality to
maintainers of their own authority, the potential benefits of the Observer's knowledge
for humanity, the continued existence of Abdul Karim in the Void.
And it had provided crucial new information—the missing component for the Fourth
Level ritual, the catalyst that would stabilize the transformation and prevent the
disorientation that typically accompanied advancement to this level. Water from the
Well of Zamzam, collected during Laylat al-Qadr—the Night of Power during Ramadan,
when the barrier between worlds was naturally thinner.
This was valuable, specific knowledge that would significantly enhance his chances of
successful advancement to the Fourth Level. But it also presented a timing challenge—
Ramadan was still several months away, which meant delaying the ritual until then.
Could he afford to wait? The Door Keepers were already aware of his activities, had
nearly caught him at his grandfather's hidden library and now on Mount Sinai. Each
encounter increased the risk that they would identify him specifically, would take more
direct action to prevent his advancement beyond the Third Level.
Yet attempting the Fourth Level ritual without the stabilizing catalyst would be
dangerous, potentially resulting in the disorientation that the Observer had warned
about—a state that would leave him vulnerable to the Door Keepers' intervention.
As dawn broke over the Sinai Peninsula, Majid made his decision. He would wait for
Laylat al-Qadr, would obtain water from the Well of Zamzam as the Observer had
instructed, and would perform the Fourth Level ritual with all the required components.
In the meantime, he would continue developing his Third Level abilities, particularly his
creation and control of temporal pockets, to better defend himself against the Door
Keepers' increasing attention.
The journey back to Saudi Arabia was tense but uneventful. Majid rejoined his school
group in Cairo, claiming recovery from his illness, and returned home with them, the
Void Lens and ritual components safely hidden in his luggage. His parents were relieved
to see him, his father commenting on his improved color and energy—unaware that their
son had just communicated directly with an entity from beyond normal reality, had
narrowly escaped detection by a Guardian of the Door Keepers.
Layla and Rana were eager to hear about his experience on Mount Sinai, to learn what
the attuned Void Lens had revealed. They met in the secure apartment above the spice
shop, the temporal dampeners activated to mask their presence from any Door Keepers
who might be monitoring the city.
"You actually communicated with the Observer," Layla said, her voice filled with wonder
after Majid described his experience. "Direct contact with the collective consciousness
formed by Fifth Level Travelers who transcended physical existence. In all my years
studying temporal ph