Chapter Five: Family Conspiracy
Two months had passed since Majid's encounter with Rana and her revelation about
Balance Keepers. The pendant she had given him had indeed proven effective during his
temporal resonance episodes, allowing him to maintain awareness and control rather
than experiencing disorientation and fear. Though the episodes continued to increase in
frequency, they were no longer as threatening.
Majid had met with Rana regularly, carefully sharing selected aspects of his plans while
learning more about the nature of time and consciousness from her perspective. She
had introduced him to ancient texts that described techniques for stabilizing temporal
displacement, exercises to strengthen his connection to the current timeline.
But she had not yet introduced him to her mentor, Layla Idrissi, despite repeated
inquiries. "She's traveling," Rana would say, or "She's observing another temporal
anomaly." Majid was beginning to suspect that either Layla didn't exist, or Rana was
deliberately keeping them apart.
Today, however, his focus was not on Rana or temporal mechanics, but on family
matters. His father's promotion had indeed changed their family dynamics, with Abdul
Rahman spending weekdays in Riyadh and returning to Al-Khobar on weekends. The
arrangement had worked well, bringing increased prosperity without disrupting Majid's
carefully laid plans.
But now, a new development threatened to complicate matters. His mother's brother,
Uncle Tariq, had arrived for an extended visit, bringing with him his wife and two
children. In Majid's original timeline, this visit had led to a disastrous business
partnership between his father and uncle—a partnership that had drained the family's
resources and contributed to his father's early heart attack.
Majid sat in the living room, pretending to read a book while eavesdropping on the
conversation between his father and uncle. It was Friday evening, and Abdul Rahman
had just returned from Riyadh, tired but eager to spend time with his family. Uncle Tariq,
however, seemed more interested in business than family bonding.
"The opportunity is exceptional, Abdul Rahman," Tariq was saying, his voice animated
with enthusiasm. "A real estate development in Jeddah, with government backing. The
returns could be substantial."
"It sounds promising," Abdul Rahman replied cautiously. "But I've always been
conservative with investments, especially those outside my area of expertise."
"That's why you need a partner who understands the market," Tariq pressed. "I've been
in real estate for fifteen years. I know the pitfalls, the opportunities. Together, we could
make this work."
Majid turned a page in his book, maintaining the appearance of disinterest while his
mind raced. In his original timeline, his father had eventually agreed to invest a
significant portion of their savings in Uncle Tariq's venture. The development had failed
spectacularly, mired in permit issues and corruption allegations. His father had lost
everything, and the stress had contributed to his fatal heart attack years later.
"I'd need to see detailed projections, market analyses," Abdul Rahman was saying. "And
I'd want my financial advisor to review everything."
"Of course, of course," Tariq agreed readily. "I have all the documentation. We can go
through it tomorrow. But we need to move quickly—other investors are circling."
The familiar pressure tactic made Majid's jaw clench. His uncle hadn't changed—still the
same manipulative opportunist, using family connections to further his business
interests.
"Majid," his mother called from the kitchen, "would you help me bring out the tea and
dessert?"
Grateful for the excuse to move, Majid set aside his book and went to the kitchen. His
mother was arranging baklava on a serving plate, her movements precise and efficient.
"What do you think of Uncle Tariq's visit?" she asked casually, though Majid detected an
undercurrent of concern in her voice.
"It's nice to see family," he replied neutrally. "Though it seems like he's more interested
in business than catching up."
His mother sighed. "Your uncle has always been ambitious. Sometimes too ambitious
for his own good." She hesitated, then added, "I hope your father doesn't get pulled into
one of his schemes. We're in a good position now, with the promotion and the
investments you encouraged him to make."
This was new—in his original timeline, his mother had supported the partnership with
Uncle Tariq, swayed by family loyalty. Another ripple effect of his presence in the past,
perhaps? His subtle influence on family finances and his father's career had changed his
mother's perspective as well.
"I'm sure Baba will be careful," Majid said, picking up the tea tray. "He's become quite
savvy about investments."
They returned to the living room, where Uncle Tariq was now showing Abdul Rahman
something on his laptop, gesturing animatedly at the screen. Majid served the tea, taking
the opportunity to glance at the laptop—glossy renderings of a luxury residential
complex, complete with pools and gardens. The same development that had failed in his
original timeline.
"Ah, Majid," Uncle Tariq said, noticing his interest. "What do you think? Impressive, isn't
it?"
"It looks very ambitious," Majid replied carefully. "Where exactly in Jeddah would this be
built?"
"North of the city, along the coast," Tariq said. "Prime location, perfect for high-end
residences."
Majid nodded, remembering the environmental issues that had plagued the site—
coastal erosion that had eventually led to construction delays and permit revocations.
"Isn't that area prone to erosion? I read something about that in a geography class."
Uncle Tariq's smile faltered slightly. "There are some minor concerns, but the developers
have engineering solutions in place. Nothing to worry about."
Abdul Rahman looked at his son with interest. "What exactly did you read, Majid?"
"Just that the northern coastline has been experiencing accelerated erosion due to
changing current patterns," Majid said, recalling the news reports that had emerged after
the project's failure. "Some developments there have faced structural issues."
"I wasn't aware of that," his father said, turning back to Tariq with a more skeptical
expression. "Is this addressed in the environmental impact assessment?"
Uncle Tariq's discomfort was now visible. "I'm sure it's been considered. I can get more
information on that specific aspect."
"Please do," Abdul Rahman said firmly. "Environmental risks can quickly become
financial risks in development projects."
The conversation shifted to family matters after that, but Majid could see that his
strategic intervention had planted a seed of doubt in his father's mind. It was a small
step, but an important one in preventing the disastrous partnership that had
contributed to his family's downfall in his original timeline.
Later that night, as the household settled into sleep, Majid sat at his desk, updating his
journal. The pendant Rana had given him hung around his neck, its spiral pattern
catching the light from his desk lamp. He had grown accustomed to its weight, the subtle
warmth it seemed to generate against his skin.
A soft knock at his door interrupted his writing. "Majid? Are you still awake?" It was his
father's voice.
"Yes, Baba. Come in."
Abdul Rahman entered, closing the door quietly behind him. He looked tired, the lines
around his eyes more pronounced than usual. "I wanted to thank you for your comment
about the coastal erosion. I did some quick research after everyone went to bed, and you
were right—there have been significant issues with developments in that area."
Majid nodded, careful not to appear too knowledgeable. "I just remembered it from
class. I thought it might be important."
His father sat on the edge of the bed, studying him with a thoughtful expression. "You've
always had good instincts about these things. The technology startup investment, the
advice about my career move to Riyadh... you see things that others miss."
"I just pay attention," Majid said modestly.
"It's more than that," Abdul Rahman insisted. "Sometimes I feel like you have wisdom
beyond your years." He paused, then added, "Your uncle's investment proposal—what's
your honest opinion?"
This was a critical moment. In his original timeline, Majid had been too young, too
disinterested in family finances to offer an opinion. His silence had allowed the
disastrous partnership to proceed. Now, he had a chance to directly influence his father's
decision.
"I think you should be very cautious," Majid said carefully. "Uncle Tariq seems more
focused on the potential returns than the risks. And he's using pressure tactics—saying
you need to decide quickly, that other investors are waiting. That's usually a red flag."
Abdul Rahman nodded slowly. "I had the same feeling. But he's family, and that makes it
complicated."
"Family is important," Majid agreed, "but that doesn't mean you have to risk your
financial security. Maybe there's a way to help Uncle Tariq without putting your own
savings at risk."
"What do you suggest?"
Majid considered for a moment. He wanted to steer his father away from the investment
entirely, but an outright rejection might strain family relations. A compromise might be
more effective.
"Perhaps you could offer to connect him with potential investors through your network
in Riyadh, rather than investing yourself. That way, you're helping him without taking on
the financial risk."
A smile spread across his father's face. "That's an excellent suggestion. I do know several
people who might be interested in real estate ventures." He reached out, squeezing
Majid's shoulder. "You're going to be a formidable businessman someday, my son."
After his father left, Majid returned to his journal, adding notes about the conversation.
Another small victory, another change to the timeline that would protect his family from
the hardships they had faced in his original life.
As he wrote, he felt the familiar tingling in his fingertips, the precursor to a temporal
resonance episode. Thanks to Rana's pendant, he no longer feared these moments.
Instead, he set down his pen and closed his eyes, focusing on the techniques she had
taught him for maintaining awareness during the shift.
The world blurred around him, reality becoming fluid. But instead of disorientation,
Majid experienced a strange clarity, as if he were observing the shift from outside
himself.
This time, he saw not just one alternative reality but several, flickering past like slides in
a presentation. In one, he saw himself as he had been in his original timeline—older,
broken, standing on that balcony in Riyadh. In another, he saw a version of himself he
didn't recognize—successful but cold, surrounded by wealth but isolated from human
connection.
And in a third, most disturbing vision, he saw himself in what appeared to be a ritual
chamber, surrounded by strange symbols drawn on the floor. He was older than his
current sixteen years, but younger than the broken man on the balcony—perhaps in his
twenties. His face was contorted in pain, blood streaming from his nose and eyes as he
chanted words in a language Majid didn't recognize.
Then the visions were gone, reality solidifying once more. Majid opened his eyes, his
heart racing despite the relative control he had maintained during the episode. What
had he just seen? Were these glimpses of alternative timelines, paths his life might take
depending on the choices he made?
The third vision troubled him most. The ritual, the blood, the obvious pain—it suggested
dangers ahead that he hadn't anticipated. Was this a potential future in his current
timeline, or something else entirely?
He needed to speak with Rana, to understand more about what these visions might
mean. And he needed to finally meet her mentor, Layla Idrissi, whose knowledge of
temporal mechanics might provide answers that Rana couldn't or wouldn't give.
Majid touched the pendant at his throat, drawing comfort from its solid presence.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever mysteries these visions presented, he would
face them with the same cold determination that had driven him since his return to the
past. His plans for revenge remained unchanged, even as the cosmic implications of his
temporal displacement became increasingly complex.
Tomorrow, he would confront Rana, demand to meet Layla Idrissi. It was time for more
answers, more knowledge to help him navigate the strange waters of time and
consciousness he found himself swimming in.
For now, though, he had achieved another small victory in his campaign to reshape the
past. Uncle Tariq's investment scheme would not claim his father's savings, would not
contribute to the stress that had once killed him. The future was changing, one careful
intervention at a time.
And somewhere in that changing future, Zuhair Al-Nasser and the others who had
betrayed Majid still awaited their reckonings. The game continued, the pieces moving
slowly but inexorably toward the final confrontation that would complete Majid's
revenge.