“My name is ,” the old man whispered. “Not the city. The collector. I wrote six volumes, not five. The sixth was suppressed because it contained al-rijal al-muhmalun — the neglected narrators. Those whose truth would destabilize thrones.”

But Volume 6? It did not exist. Or so the scholars agreed.

Faraj stammered: “But… you died four hundred years ago.”

Faraj, trembling, opened it. The first page read: "These are the men and women whom the later schools forgot. Their chains of narration are broken not by weakness, but by fear."

“I, Faraj ibn al-Husayn al-Qummi, narrate from Kashi, who narrated from the neglected ones, who narrated from the Imams, who narrated from the Messenger (SAW), who narrated from Jibra’il, who narrated from Allah — the Just, the Hidden, the One who never forgets a single narrator.”

Kashi smiled. “A narrator is never dead as long as his isnad (chain) lives. And my chain? It ends with you.” Volume 6’s final section was not about the past. Its header read: “The narrators of the End Times.”