The Basement

The Basement

With @next-pharaoh

“Richie?” Billy called out into the hazy basement. “Richie, are you down here?”

Billy had never thought of Richie as a religious kind-of-guy, nor a Muslim for that matter. What other reason would he have had to come down into the creepy, old mosque? Heck, Richie’s whole family was Catholic, the stereotypical devout Latin family. Billy’s too, although of a Polish heritage instead. That was probably why they had always gotten along so well–they could bond through trauma.

“Richie?” Billy asked once more. The basement was rather small, just a single room with a twin mattress, a few sheets, and a tiny window shining the bare minimum amount of sunlight into the space. The place was covered in dust, something Billy unfortunately had not noticed until he had patted down his all-black outfit, surprised to find it covered in the pale powder.

“Alright, that’s it,” Billy grumbled. “I can’t even get reception down here anyway.”

That was how this had all started. Billy had received an emergency text with a location from Richie that he had been locked and needed help. However, that text had taken over 24 hours to deliver. Billy had rushed over here as fast as he could, but now he could not find Richie anywhere. Perplexed, he made his way back to the basement’s door, not expecting to find it locked.

“No…” Billy spoke to no one in particular. “No, no no!”

Frantically, Billy pulled at the handle, hoping, praying that it would come off. And yet, no matter how hard he tried, it would not budge. It was times like these that he wished he would have participated in some athletics throughout his schooling career, rather than focusing on communications and the arts. 

“Hello!” Billy shouted, banging on the door. “Can anyone hear me?!” He grabbed his phone and quickly sent out a text to his friend, not surprised when it was unable to go through. Backing away from the door, Billy began to consider what he could do. Someone would have to find him eventually, right? Phones had tracking devices, so it would not take long before people questioned where he was. And the window, maybe from there he could-

“Oh-!” Clumsily, Billy fell back onto the twin bed, so preoccupied in his thoughts that he had not paid attention to his footing. The dust flew up in a cloud around him, slowly cascading over his body. The particles coated his sandy-colored hair and fair skin as if he had been hit by a bag of flour. A bit embarrassed, Billy coughed, inhaling some of the dust.

“Gosh, what is this stuff…?” Billy questioned, his head suddenly a bit dizzy. “Is it…powdered salt…?”

Slowly, Billy’s body fell back onto bed, an encroaching weariness enveloping him. Within moments, he was fast asleep while the dust began carefully absorbing into his being.

———

Rashid unlocked the door to the mosque’s basement. He already possessed the keys to the lock, and he knew not to reopen the door until at least daybreak. Well, at least not while the current convert is awake. It was necessary for Rashid to go in while the convert was resting to provide the necessary materials.

“Ah, I see you are awake,” the strong, proud Muslim announced in Arabic as he swung open the door. “And already studying the analysis of the Hadith book I provided you with.” 

“Yes, thank you brother,” the reply came back, also in Arabic.

“Do the pants fit you alright, Bilal?” Rashid asked. 

“They will carry the load.” With his massive hand, Bilal cupped his mighty Arab meat to emphasize his point. Rashid took a once over of Bilal, taking in the bronzed alpha and confirming the dimensions he had hypothesized in his head. Bilal was tall, muscular, a perfect specimen of Islamic masculinity. His chest would ideally slide into the thobe Rashid had ordered for him, and his wide feet would easily fill the Nike sandals Rashid had set aside.

“Now Bilal, are you ready to promote the genetic Arabization of the world?” Rashid demanded. “To defend Arab interests, to sacrifice individuality for global brotherhood?”

Bilal immediately nodded, his fate had already been sealed.

Rashid smiled, “I assume you have already left your past behind?”

Smirking, Bilal motioned his head towards the drying white splurge behind him. By the afternoon, it would become just another part of the basement’s transformative dust.

With a nod, Rashid ushered Bilal up, and the two made their way out of the basement and back into the mosque. They prayed together, feasted together, and were preparing to leave the mosque just as a frightened Asian-American boy rushed past them.

“Billy? Billy!” His shouts echoed throughout the hall as he dashed into the religious hallways. Rashid and Bilal exchanged knowing smiles. They held hands and bid farewell, the keys transferring between their hands.

Join the Brotherhood.

Thank you to all the brothers that welcomed me to the brotherhood. Thank you for showing me how amazing it is to be an Arabophile.

Honestly, who would you rather be?

Elden Or Ilyas

Swede

A young Swede called Georg had arrived in Qatar for what he expected to be a brief visit. He had planned to meet friends who would escort him to his destination, but as he stepped out of the airport, he realized they were nowhere to be found. Confused and uncertain, Georg wandered through the unfamiliar streets of Doha.

The midday heat was intense, and Georg felt out of place. He had no idea where to go or how to navigate the city. Just as he was starting to feel overwhelmed, a gleaming 4x4 pulled up beside him. The vehicle was occupied by a group of friendly-looking Saudi men. One of them, a man named Hamza, rolled down the window and called out to Georg.

“Hey there! You look lost. Want a lift?” Hamza asked in broken English with a welcoming smile.

Georg was relieved to find someone who spoke English and gratefully accepted the offer. He climbed into the luxurious SUV, and hoped this would be the solution to his despair.

As he settled into the plush seat, Hamza turned on some traditional Saudi music. Georg found the music strange and unfamiliar. It was a blend of rhythmic drums and melodic vocals that didn’t quite resonate with his Westerm taste. At the same time, Georg noticed a strong, distinctive smell in the car—a musky, masculine scent that seemed to be coming from the men around him. It was a scent he wasn't used to, and he found it somewhat overpowering.

As the journey progressed, Georg found himself breathing in more of the musk that filled the car. The scent penetrated his senses, and as he inhaled deeply, he began to feel a strange sensation. His body started to change. His skin tone gradually shifted to a warm, olive hue, and his facial features altered to fit those of the Saudi men around him.

His previous life, memories, and identity seemed to fade away as he embraced his new form. His skull reshaped subtly to match the typical features of an Arab man, and his understanding of the world evolved.

The Saudi music began to sound pleasant and familiar. Georg found himself enjoying the rhythms and melodies, his earlier discomfort replaced by a growing appreciation for the music.

The car was filled with brotherhood and warmth. They laughed, chatted, and sang along to the music, making him feel completely at home.

They called him Gaith, and when Gaith settled into his new identity, he glanced around the car and noticed something curious. One of the toys in the back seat had Swedish names on it. It was a small reminder of his past life, a life he could barely recall now. It was as if the car had held a piece of his former self while he was becoming someone newer and better.

If you're a brother, comment with a green heart: 💚

Indian Nationalist 🇮🇳

In Mumbai, Malhar was known for his fiery speeches against what he saw as the invasion of foreign cultures. He had always hated Arabs and Islam. His passionate rants were a common feature at rallies, where he railed against the threats to his country’s identity.

One day, Malhar found himself in Saudi Arabia for a business trip. As he walked through the streets of Riyadh, he couldn't shake off the discomfort that came with being in a country whose culture and religion he hated. He headed toward a mosque where he intended to make his hate known.

As he approached, he saw a large crowd of Arab men gathered outside. They were preparing for the evening prayers. The area was packed, with people standing shoulder to shoulder. Malhar was driven by his frustration and decided to push through the crowd to reach the front.

However, as he tried to force his way through, he found himself increasingly trapped. The crowd was so dense that moving was almost impossible. He was surrounded by people, and the sounds of prayers and murmured supplications filled the air. Malhar began to feel an unusual sensation, as if the atmosphere itself was pressing in on him.

The discomfort was at first physical, but soon it turned deeper. Malhar’s skin, which had been a deep brown, began to lighten. His facial features started to change subtly, aligning more with the features he had so long hated. His once fiercely nationalist thoughts began to fade, replaced by innocence, obedience to the sunnah and calmness.

As he was enveloped by the crowd, he felt more change occurring within him. His old beliefs and prejudices dissolved, replaced by a new understanding and acceptance. The anger and bitterness that had once fueled his rhetoric were now replaced by empathy and peace.

When Malhar finally emerged from the crowd, he was no longer the man he had been. Standing in the street, he looked around and realized people called him Marwan. The memories of his former self were vague and distant, as if they belonged to someone else entirely.

Without hesitation, Marwan turned back toward the mosque. He joined the crowd of faithful Arab men with their rituals and prayers. As he knelt in submission, he felt a connection to the traditions and beliefs he had once avoided.

Chris was just walking home from the office when he sees them.

"Brother, why aren't you wearing your puffer jacket yet"

All Arabs wear this comfy material, once you wear it, you change. All clothes underneath the jacket transform until Chris is no more. Chris is now Ahmed.

Ahmed and his brothers are looking for new men

Prophecy of Amin

Amin's personal coaching were popular in the gym and he was well respected.

He began offering his services for free because he was inspired to help people and improve the community around him. He helped with their workouts and also provided Supplements to aid their plan.

True to Amin's promise, his clients lost fat and gained muscle at a phenomenal rate. Their skin also turned darker along with their hair. Black hair sprouted on their bodies too and foreskins disappeared. Amin provided a basic wardrobe of essentials to new brothers as a rite of passage once their arabization was completed.

Amin's supplements with traces of his Arab seed also gave his clients-turned-brothers more energy and vitality, but also a greater sense of calm and belonging. Asking Amin how they could thank him for helping them, he wanted nothing more than for his brothers to help him help others. He wished no personal gains other than to selflessly help improve his community.

A few weeks ago, Amin had been the only Arab, but week by week that was changing. Soon you could see handsome virile brothers working of their health and self-improvement, supporting each other in a beautiful community.

Positive change was all around. When amin initially joined the gym, he suggested to the gym owner that the women's gym should have a separate entrance from the men's but the owner laughed in his face. But together, the brothers did not let go of their conviction and lobbied the owner for change. Their arguments of morality, distraction and men needing priority, the gym owner eventually relented to the overwhelming pressure from the majority of the members and segregated the gym. The brothers thanked him warmly for seeing things in the right light and making the change.

Amin and his brothers helped many more become better people. Soon more changes outside the gym would also be needed to support their growing community, with Amin as their leader.