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Qamar looks out on the night sky, looking up to the moon. He's left Nightingale behind, in the lab.

And he remembers the last time he spoke with his father. A report on grades from his first quarter of college. Minor and incidental talk. He held off on telling his father that he was questioning being a Muslim.

Then he remembered the phone call the following day.

The report of the suicide bombing. Once of the first in Egypt in a long time. And among the dead?

His father. A man who did no harm to anyone, who was just at the store to buy food.

Everything that has happened since was because of that incident. Everything. That's what led to that encounter in the desert. That's what led to Nightingale becoming such a major part of his life.

He looks to the moon.

"Thank you, Father," he whispers in Arabic.

Quietly, he turns to descend back to the lab. Nightingale needs him.