The dimly lit room was hushed as Abu Bilal stood at the head of the table, his sharp gaze sweeping over the faces of those gathered—Omar, Abu Jameel, Farid, Vivi, Reem, Zaid, Kelly, and Ibrahim. The air was thick with tension, the weight of their purpose pressing heavily upon them.
Abu Bilal folded his hands on the table. "We all know why we are here,"he began, his voice low but firm. "The time has come to act. But before we move forward, I need to know—why are each of you willing to take this path? And how far are you willing to go?"
Abu Jameel, the businessman, leaned forward, his expression hardened by years of frustration. "I'm tired of this corrupt system," he said bitterly. "I've seen how money buys justice, how bribes open doors that should remain closed. I don't want my children growing up in a world where everything has a price. For the greater good—for the sake of Allah—we must tear this rot from its roots."
Farid, the renowned neurologist, adjusted his glasses, his voice calm but laced with anger. "Every day, I watch the rich receive the best care while the poor suffer. Vital medicines are withheld, yet the government floods the streets with legalized poison. There are neighborhoods where people are nothing but walking corpses, lost to addiction. How can we call ourselves a society when we allow this?"
Vivi's hands trembled slightly as she spoke. "I just want to live in a country that feels like home," she admitted. "I want my family to speak freely without fear. I want to wake up knowing we aren't prisoners in our own land. True freedom of speech—that's worth fighting for."
Reem's sharp eyes burned with conviction. "I studied law for years," she said, "only to see it twisted into a weapon against the weak. The courts punish the desperate while the powerful laugh. That has to change."
Zaid, the youngest among them, clenched his fists. "I want a future where people can chase their dreams, not just follow the path the government forces on them. We're not puppets. We deserve to live with passion, not fear."
Kelly nodded in agreement. "Freedom. Happiness. That's all I want for our people. No more chains—no more control."
Ibrahim, his voice steady, added, "Clean water. Electricity. Basic rights that half our people don't have. How can we call ourselves civilized when children go thirsty while the elite waste without thought? Justice starts with survival."
Abu Bilal listened, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Then we are united,"he said. "The road ahead will not be easy. But if we stand together—if we are willing to sacrifice—then change is possible."
A heavy silence settled over the room.
They all knew what came next.
The room fell silent as Abu Bilal's sharp gaze settled on Omar, who had remained quiet throughout the discussion. The others turned to look at him, curiosity and concern flickering in their eyes.
"Omar,"Abu Bilal said, his voice steady but probing. "You haven't spoken yet. Why? What is your reason for standing with us?"
Omar exhaled slowly, his fingers tracing the edge of the table. "I didn't answer," he began, *"because you all have already said everything that needed to be said. Equality. Freedom. A life where people don't suffer under corruption and greed—yes, I want that too."
He paused, his jaw tightening. The air in the room grew heavier, as if the shadows themselves were leaning in to listen.
"But I won't lie to you," Omar continued, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "I have another reason. A personal one."
Abu Jameel frowned. "What do you mean?"
Omar's eyes darkened, the fire in them no longer just for justice—but for something far older, far more visceral. "Revenge, he said, the word sharp as a blade."The people who took my family from me—who left me with nothing but trauma and nightmares, —they walk free. They laugh. They profit. And they will keep doing it unless someone stops them."*
A tense silence followed. Farid shifted in his seat, while Vivi's fingers curled into her palms.
"So yes," Omar said, looking at each of them in turn. "I fight for the future you all want. But I also fight for the past I can never get back. And when the time comes… I won't hesitate."
Abu Bilal studied him for a long moment, then gave a slow, solemn nod. "Then let your vengeance serve justice, not just yourself,"he said. *"Because when this is over, we must build something better—not just burn what exists."
Omar held his gaze. "As long as they pay for what they've done," he replied, "I don't care how it happens."
The others exchanged glances, the weight of his words settling among them. The revolution had many faces—hope, anger, desperation. And now, vengeance had taken its seat at the table.