The night was not yet over when the first light appeared on the surface of the standing stone on Göbeklitepe’s northern slope.
Blue radiance seeped through the reliefs carved into the stone, making the shadows of snakes and vultures move across the wall as though they were alive. Inside the hidden chamber, the four archaeologists sat in silence beneath the weight of the lines they had just read. None of them felt comfortable enough to suggest that it was a reflection or a malfunction in one of the projectors.
Because the light had flared on the metal surface of the book several seconds before it ignited on the stone outside.
“We need to be sure what we saw before we tell anyone about this,” Ilber said.
Arif was still staring at the door. “The standing stone lit up on its own. What exactly are we supposed to be sure about?”
“That it wasn’t light.”
Betul frowned. “Wasn’t what we just saw light?”
“It could have been a warning. A reaction. An energy transfer connected to the book activating.”
Arif leaned over the metal book’s cover. “Ilber, sometimes a light is just a light.”
Esra spoke without lifting her head. “And sometimes something that’s been waiting underground for five thousand years answers someone for the first time.”
After that sentence, the air in the chamber changed. The four friends realized they were no longer simply standing before a historical artifact. The book had connected them not to the past they were reading about, but to the past itself.
Ilber changed his gloves and examined the section containing the missing pages again. At the bottom of the last visible page, right beside the tear, was a thin line. It began at the edge of the page, continued to the book’s cover, and ended at the eye-shaped mark in the center of the cover.
“This tear doesn’t look natural,” he said.
Betul came over beside him. “The pages were ripped out.”
“Yes. But the book itself wasn’t damaged when they were removed.”
Arif brought his finger close to the metal surface. “Maybe the pages were never ripped out. Maybe the book is hiding them.”
“How could a metal book hide pages?”
“So far, nothing we thought was possible has actually been possible.”
Esra reopened the double-script layout on the book’s first pages. The Old Turkish lines unfolded like an account written by humans, while the hieroglyph columns recorded the same events in a colder, more measured manner. On some pages, the two texts completed each other. In others, they plainly contradicted one another.
“Look at this,” Esra said.
The section she pointed to depicted a group of humans holding stone and metal tools. Around the heads of the Anunakis standing opposite them were rings of light. The humans’ faces were turned upward, yet none of the tools in their hands matched any illustration showing how they had been made.
“It says they taught humans how to work,” Betul said. “But they didn’t give them the knowledge they needed to advance on their own.”
Ilber turned back to the previous page. “Because this isn’t a book of aid. It’s a record of governance.”
Arif’s voice hardened. “Then where are Gohan and Niyon’s conversations? The book knows they existed, but it doesn’t tell us about their friendship.”
Esra looked at the final page. “Maybe that’s why the four missing pages were removed.”
Footsteps sounded outside. The security team at the excavation site had finally reached the slope. Ilber did not close the book, but he spread a protective covering over the pages.
“We need to take this find to the lab immediately,” Betul said.
“No,” Ilber said.
All three of them turned toward him.
“We’re leaving it here?” Arif asked.
“No. We’re not handing it over to anyone yet.”
Betul stared at him in surprise. “Ilber, this could be a discovery of international significance.”
“Exactly. A metal no one has ever documented before, two different writing systems, and the light that just appeared on the standing stone outside. If we call everyone here with a report before examining the book and understanding what it is, we’ll lose control of the situation.”
Esra objected for the first time. “Hiding this isn’t scientifically ethical.”
“I’m not talking about hiding it. I’m talking about placing it under protection.”
“Who gets to decide the difference?”
Ilber looked at her. “For now, we do.”
The security guards’ voices were growing louder outside the door. The four friends gathered silently around the book. What brought them together was more than simply working on the same excavation. Ilber made plans, Arif never hesitated to approach danger, Betul recorded every detail, and Esra asked the question no one else dared to ask. That was why they had found the book together. Now they had to make the decision together as well.
Arif looked at the book’s cover. “If we leave without finding the last four pages, we’ll leave the most important part of the story to other people’s interpretations.”
“We have no proof the last four pages are still in this chamber,” Betul said.
Esra pointed to the eye mark on the wall. “We do.”
Four small notches had appeared around the mark, though they had not been visible before. The notches matched the number of missing pages in the book.
Ilber held his flashlight against the wall. The lines descended toward the floor of the chamber and extended beneath the stone pedestal.
“We’re going to have to move the pedestal,” Arif said.
“The security team is outside,” Betul said. “We can’t do that now.”
“Then we’ll do it later.”
“When?”
Ilber carefully placed the book in his bag. “Tomorrow night.”
Esra looked at him. “This decision won’t appear in the official records.”
“Not for now.”
When the four friends emerged from the hidden chamber, Göbeklitepe had been swallowed by darkness again. But on the surface of the standing stone on the northern slope, beneath the relief resembling a human arm, a thin blue line was still glowing.
At the same time, thousands of years before the present day, Niyon was moving through the dark tunnels beneath the ore mines.
The light sphere in his hand trembled with every step, illuminating in turn the ancient marks carved into the walls. No one knew of these tunnels from the Anunaki maps. Niyon knew they were more than a refuge. The energy network sleeping beneath the stones had been found here, before the first Anunaki craft.
Gohan moved behind him with the humans who had fled the village. Mothers covered their children’s mouths to keep them from crying, while the elderly walked with one hand against the walls. Everyone wanted to trust Niyon, but no one fully understood why he was leading them underground.
“How much farther?” Gohan asked.
“We’ll stop when we reach the area beneath the pedestal.”
“What if the Anunakis are following us?”
“I’ll lead them toward another passage.”
“And if they don’t listen to you?”
Niyon stopped. A metallic hum sounded in the distance, from somewhere behind them in the tunnel.
“I’ll tell them something they’ll have no choice but to listen to.”
Gohan looked at his face. “What?”
“That I’ve found Göbeklitepe’s energy core.”
“Didn’t you?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re going to lie to them?”
Niyon’s eyes flashed like a blue line in the darkness. “No. I’m going to tell them that the core they’re searching for isn’t where they think it is.”
Gohan touched the eye mark carved into the tunnel wall. A deep vibration rose from within the stone.
“Then where is the truth?”
Niyon placed his hand over Gohan’s.
“Where humans no longer remember.”
At the end of the tunnel, a sealed stone door appeared. Four empty sockets were set into it. When Niyon raised the light sphere, one of the sockets lit up by itself.
The sound of Anunaki craft was growing louder in the distance.
Gohan whispered, “They found us.”
Niyon turned toward the door. “No. They didn’t find us.”
The second of the four empty sockets lit up as well.
“They’re calling us.”
In the present day, the metal book inside Ilber’s bag quietly warmed beneath its closed cover. In the space where the four missing pages belonged, invisible writing was appearing.
There was a single sentence, one none of them could yet read:
“When the four return, the gateway will open again.”