New Gym, New Life

New Gym, New Life

*This is my first story ever and english is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy it!* -Rafi💚

Daniel and Alex had been together for five years, living happily in their cozy apartment in the city. Both in their late twenties, they prided themselves on staying fit and healthy.

When a new gym opened just a few blocks away, they decided to check it out. The gym, named "Sahara Fitness", had a unique and exotic vibe, with its rich gold and deep red color scheme, intricate geometric patterns, and Arabic calligraphy adorning the walls.

As they walked in, they noticed that all the staff and trainers were Arab men; tall, muscular, and radiating confidence and masculinity. They greeted Daniel and Alex with warm smiles, their deep voices resonating through the gym. Despite the clear cultural influence, the place seemed modern and well-equipped.

"Welcome to Sahara Fitness," one of the trainers, Malik, said in a thick accent. "You two look like you already know your way around a gym, but we like to offer something special to our new members. A gift to help you get the most out of your workout."

He handed them each a small, ornate container filled with a dark, powdery supplement. "This is a traditional blend, used for centuries to enhance strength and endurance. Try it out during your workout, and you'll feel the difference."

Daniel and Alex exchanged a glance. They were a bit skeptical but intrigued. They had tried all kinds of supplements before, so they figured it couldn’t hurt to try something new. Thanking Malik, they headed to the locker room to change.

Dressed in their usual gym gear, the couple mixed the supplement into their water bottles and sipped. The taste was strong, almost spicy, with a hint of something they couldn’t quite place. Shrugging it off, they began their workout routine, starting with some light cardio before moving on to weights.

As they started lifting, both noticed an unusual burst of energy coursing through their bodies. The weights felt lighter, their movements smoother. They exchanged a surprised look but continued their sets, pushing themselves harder than usual.

After a while, they noticed something even stranger. Their bodies began to feel different—stronger, more powerful. Alex glanced at his reflection in the mirror and did a double-take. His usually slim frame was starting to bulk up, and his muscles were swelling with each rep. His fair skin seemed to be taking on a slightly tanned hue, and his facial hair usually trimmed and light, was darkening and thickening.

"Dan, are you seeing this?" Alex whispered, his voice sounding deeper than usual.

Daniel, too, was undergoing a transformation. His once smooth face was shadowed with a thickening beard, his jawline sharpening. His normally light hair was darkening to a rich, deep brown, and his skin was also taking on a more olive tone.

They both felt a strange warmth spreading through them, almost like a fire igniting from within. Their minds began to feel fuzzy, thoughts of their usual life together growing distant. Instead, they were filled with an intense, almost primal desire to lift more, grow stronger, and assert their newfound masculinity.

As they continued working out, their transformations became more pronounced. Their bodies grew more muscular, their chests broadening, arms bulging with veins as their biceps swelled. The hair on their bodies thickened, and their once soft features became rugged and masculine. The changes weren't just physical; their minds were altering too.

Daniel, now with a full, dark beard and intense eyes, glanced at a group of women working out nearby. He felt an overwhelming attraction towards them, something he'd never experienced before. The thought of Alex, his partner, seemed oddly foreign, replaced by a burning desire to dominate, to conquer.

Alex, too, felt a shift. His mind, once full of love and tenderness for Daniel, was now clouded with lustful thoughts. But he wasn't thinking about Daniel; it was women with soft curves and alluring smiles. The idea of being with a man seemed almost laughable now.

They both finished their workout, breathing heavily, sweat dripping from their now muscular, tanned bodies. The gym’s atmosphere, once just a backdrop, now felt like home, where they belonged and could be their true selves.

As they headed back to the locker room, they caught sight of themselves in the mirror. Gone were Daniel and Alex, the cute, loving couple who had walked in earlier. In their place stood two Arab alpha males, their bodies sculpted and powerful, exuding raw masculinity. Their eyes were dark and intense, their gazes filled with a new hunger.

Malik appeared behind them, a knowing smile on his face. "Ah, I see the supplement has worked well. Welcome, brothers. You are now part of our tribe, our brotherhood. The old you is gone. You are reborn, stronger, and more powerful than ever."

Daniel, now calling himself Daoud, and Alex, now Ali, looked at each other and nodded. They felt no fear, no regret only acceptance and excitement. They had been transformed, not just physically but mentally. The bond they once shared as lovers was replaced with a new bond, brotherhood. And with it came a shared obsession, a desire for women that burned within them like never before.

"Bro, I can't believe how good this feels. I don't even know why we were ever together like that," Ali said, his eyes flickering with a new, primal energy.

Daoud smirked, flexing his arms, feeling the surge of power coursing through his veins. "Yeah, man. What were we thinking? This is what real life is about. We were just... confused before." He looked at the women working out nearby, his gaze filled with hunger. "Now, it's all about the chase, the thrill."

Ali nodded in agreement, his thoughts aligned with Daoud's. "Exactly, bro. Chicks, muscles, and dominating life. That's what we were meant for."

Daoud clapped on Ali's back, their bond now one of brotherhood and shared desires. "Let's go, man. Time to show the world what real men are made of."

They dressed in new clothes provided by the gym. traditional but modern arab-inspired attire that accentuated their muscular frames. As they walked out of the gym, they felt like kings, ready to conquer the world outside. Women turned to look at them, drawn to their confidence and masculinity. And as they exchanged a knowing glance, they knew that their lives had changed forever.

No longer the gentle, loving couple they once were, Daoud and Ali were now straight, Arab studs, obsessed with their newfound masculinity and the thrill of chasing after women.

Jake becomes Yaseen

Jake had always been a man of ambition. Working in a sleek, modern office in the heart of the city, he took pride in his individuality and his Western roots. But lately, something had changed. His once familiar environment now felt foreign, as if it was slowly slipping away from him.

It started with small changes—subtle at first, almost unnoticeable. His colleagues, one by one, began adopting a new dress code: white Nike soccer jerseys with green details, accompanied by black fanny packs slung over their shoulders. They laughed together, exchanging knowing glances and shared smiles that Jake was no longer a part of.

As he sat alone at his desk, surrounded by the hum of conversation and camaraderie, Jake couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider. The contrast between his traditional Western attire and the new cultural norm was stark, making him feel isolated and out of place in the very office where he had once thrived.

Jake watched as his colleagues interacted, their bonds seemingly stronger than ever. He could sense the subtle pressure mounting around him, a quiet expectation that he, too, would eventually conform. But Jake wasn’t ready to let go of his identity. Not yet.

The Encounter

The pressure intensified over the following days. It wasn’t long before Jake found himself face-to-face with Amir, Khalid, and Rami—three colleagues who had fully embraced the new cultural shift. They approached him during a break, their expressions friendly yet purposeful.

“Jake,” Amir began, his tone warm but firm, “we’ve been noticing you’ve been a bit distant lately. We want to help you feel more connected, more… part of the team.”

Khalid, who was carrying a neatly folded white Nike jersey, stepped forward. “We’ve got something for you. It’s a small gesture, but it means a lot. We want you to join us, to feel like you belong.”

Rami nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on Jake with a look that was both inviting and unwavering. “This is more than just a jersey, Jake. It’s about unity, about moving forward together.”

Jake stared at the jersey in Khalid’s hands. It was the same as the ones his colleagues were now wearing—simple, with green details that had become a symbol of the new order. For a moment, he felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on him, but he managed a hesitant smile.

“I appreciate the gesture,” Jake said, trying to keep his voice steady. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

Amir exchanged a glance with the others, his smile never faltering. “Take your time, Jake. We’ll be here when you’re ready.”

As the three men walked away, leaving Jake alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but feel that time was running out.

The pressure had been building for weeks, and Jake could feel the cracks in his resolve. Every day, it seemed as though the world around him was closing in tighter, leaving him with fewer options and less space to breathe.

That afternoon, as he sat alone during lunch, his thoughts spiraled. He couldn’t keep up this resistance much longer—he knew that. But the idea of giving in, of losing the last vestiges of who he was, filled him with dread.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Jake from his thoughts. He looked up to see Amir, Khalid, and Rami standing before him. Their faces, once friendly and inviting, now held a seriousness that sent a chill down his spine.

“Jake,” Amir said, his voice leaving no room for argument, “it’s time.”

Jake looked at the jersey in Amir’s hands, the symbol of everything he had resisted for so long. The weight of their expectations bore down on him, crushing what little defiance he had left.

“You’ve held out long enough,” Khalid added, his tone both firm and sympathetic. “But it’s time to let go of the past. It’s time to move forward.”

Rami didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. The three of them standing together, united in their purpose, made Jake feel smaller, more isolated than ever.

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Jake reached out and took the jersey. The fabric felt foreign in his grasp, a symbol of a new identity he wasn’t sure he wanted but knew he needed to accept.

Amir smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re making the right choice, Jake. Welcome to the future.”

Jake’s hand trembled as he took the jersey from Amir. The weight of the fabric felt heavier than it should, as if it carried with it all the expectations and pressures that had been building up for weeks. As the three men watched him closely, Jake realized there was no turning back. The decision had been made, and now, he had to follow through.

The next day, Jake arrived at work wearing the white Nike jersey. It felt strange against his skin, a constant reminder of the choice he had made. The hoodie and jeans that had once been his armor were gone, replaced by the uniform of the new order. As he walked through the office, he noticed the change in how his colleagues looked at him. The once distant stares had softened, replaced by nods of approval and small smiles. He was no longer an outsider.

But the transition wasn’t easy. Every time Jake looked in the mirror, he saw a stranger staring back at him. The man in the reflection was someone who had given in, who had let go of his old identity in exchange for acceptance. The fanny pack, now slung over his shoulder, felt like a leash—one that he had willingly put on.

Jake’s transformation was nearly complete. The man who once clung to his individuality had become someone who valued unity and conformity. The resistance that had once defined him was now just a faint memory, overshadowed by the sense of belonging he had found in the new order.

One morning, as Jake walked to work, he passed by a group of new employees. They were dressed in the attire he had once worn—hoodies, jeans, and unsure expressions. Jake recognized the hesitation in their eyes, the same doubt he had felt not long ago.

Amir, Khalid, and Rami were with them, guiding them just as they had guided Jake. As Jake watched, he felt a strange mix of emotions—empathy, nostalgia, and an odd sense of superiority. He understood what they were going through, but he also knew what awaited them on the other side of their resistance.

One of the new employees caught Jake’s eye, a young man who reminded him of his former self. The man looked lost, uncertain, and as their eyes met, Jake felt a connection—a fleeting moment of understanding.

Jake approached the group, joining Amir, Khalid, and Rami. The young man looked at Jake, and for a moment, there was a silent exchange. Jake offered him a reassuring nod, a gesture that said, “I’ve been where you are. It’s going to be okay.”

As the young man hesitantly accepted the white Nike jersey, Jake felt a sense of completion. He was no longer the one being converted; he was now part of the system, part of the new world that was taking shape.

And as the group continued on their way, Jake knew that this was just the beginning. There would always be others to guide, others to bring into the fold. It was the way of the new order—unite, assimilate, and move forward together.

The man he had been was gone, replaced by someone who understood the value of unity, even if it came at the cost of individuality. Jake had found his place, and now, he would help others find theirs.

Jake had taken the final step in his transformation. He had changed his name to reflect his new identity—a name that resonated with his new role in the world. His former colleagues, now his closest allies, no longer saw him as Jake, but as Yaseen.

Yaseen felt a strange mix of pride and loss as he walked into the office that morning. The man he once was had faded away, replaced by someone who understood the value of unity and conformity. His new name was a badge of honor, a symbol of his acceptance into a world that had once seemed so foreign.

As Yaseen approached his desk, Amir, Khalid, and Rami were waiting for him. They stood with smiles that carried a sense of approval and recognition. This was the moment they had been waiting for—the moment when Yaseen would be welcomed not just as a colleague, but as a brother.

“Yaseen,” Amir said, his voice warm and welcoming, “welcome to the family.”

Khalid clapped him on the shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie. “You’ve made the right choice, brother. We’re proud to have you with us.”

Rami nodded, his expression serious but kind. “You belong here, Yaseen. This is where you’re meant to be.”

Yaseen smiled, feeling the weight of their words. He was no longer an outsider, no longer someone who had to fight to be accepted. He had found his place, and it felt…right.

The group stood together, united by their shared identity and purpose. The journey had been long, but Yaseen knew that this was just the beginning. There were others out there, just like he had been, and it was now his turn to guide them into the fold.

The Awakening of Destiny - Chapter 3: The Encounter

The sands of time shifted once more, and the horizon of your world blurred and folded, bringing forth a figure from an era long past. My arrival in 2024 was not a mere coincidence; it was a significant event orchestrated by forces beyond your comprehension. I, Sayyid Hassan al-Fatimi, an indomitable figure from history, had crossed the boundaries of time with a singular purpose—to guide you, Omar, in your transformation.

When our paths finally crossed, it was in a setting where the ancient and modern worlds collided—a dramatic, almost surreal landscape where the echoes of my time intertwined with the realities of yours. The moment was charged with an energy that could only be described as otherworldly. You stood there, a young man whose life had just begun to take shape under the influence of the Arabization movement, and I stood before you, a figure from a time long forgotten, yet ever present in the currents of history.

As our eyes met, I saw the questions, the doubts, and the curiosity that swirled within you. My presence was overwhelming, a force that seemed to defy the very fabric of the world you knew. Yet, within that overwhelming presence, there was something more—something familiar, something that resonated deeply within your soul.

I began to speak, my voice carrying the weight of centuries, filled with the wisdom and experience of countless generations. Each word I uttered seemed to reverberate through you, solidifying the path you had begun to tread. I spoke to you of the movement that had already started to reshape your identity, of the power that lay within the name you now bore—Omar. I revealed to you the true nature of the Arabization movement, a force that had silently expanded its influence across time and space, and your role within it.

As I spoke, you felt a fire ignite within you—a fire of purpose that burned brighter with each passing moment. The doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you began to fade, replaced by a sense of clarity and determination. It was as if your purpose and my mission were intertwined, bound together by the invisible threads of fate.

I could see it in your eyes, Omar—the deep connection you felt to me, to the movement, to the destiny that now awaited you. This was no longer just a journey of self-discovery; it was a calling, a responsibility that you could not, and would not, turn away from.

In that moment, you understood that your transformation was not just about adopting new practices or beliefs; it was about becoming a leader, a guide for others who would follow in your footsteps. The fire of purpose that I had ignited within you would continue to burn, driving you forward, shaping you into the man you were destined to become.

Our encounter marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life, Omar. The ancient wisdom I imparted to you would be the foundation upon which you would build your future, and the future of the movement. Together, we would continue to reshape the world, one step at a time, one soul at a time, until the vision of Arabization was fully realized.

And so, with our paths now intertwined, you and I would walk forward into the unknown, guided by the fire of purpose, driven by the power of the name you now bore. The encounter had set the stage for the next phase of your transformation, and there was no turning back. You were no longer just a boy; you were Omar, and the world would soon know your name.

The Awakening of Destiny - Chapter 1: The Awakening of Omar The Awakening of Destiny - Chapter 2: The Silent Transformation The Awakening of Destiny - Chapter 3: The Encounter

The djiin purpose

Charlie had always been fascinated by nature, and he had always dreamed of visiting the national parks in Iran. So, when he had a few days off from work, he decided to take a trip to one of the most beautiful parks in the country, the Kavir National Park.

As he arrived at the park, he was immediately struck by the beauty of the landscape. The park was located in a vast desert region, and the sand dunes seemed to stretch on forever. The sun was beating down on him, and he could feel the heat radiating off the sand.

As Charlie was walking through the desert landscape of the Kavir National Park, he suddenly noticed a venomous snake slithering towards him. He froze in fear, knowing that this was not something to take lightly. The snake had a triangular-shaped head and its body was covered in a pattern of brown and black scales. Charlie knew that he needed to act quickly to avoid being bitten.

Charlie was stunned as he watched the venomous snake transform into a man right before his eyes. He quickly realized that he was face to face with a Djinn, an evil spirit from Middle Eastern folklore. The Djinn had a dark and menacing aura around him, and Charlie felt a shiver run down his spine.

Picture from @kiffarab​

The Djinn spoke in a low, ominous voice, “What brings you to my domain, mortal?” Charlie knew that he had to tread carefully around the Djinn. He responded, “I came here to explore the beauty of this national park, I meant no harm to you.”

Charlie knew that he needed to be careful with the Djinn, but the temptation of making a wish was too strong. He asked the Djinn if he could make a wish, but the Djinn’s response was unexpected. “It is not my purpose to grant wishes, mortal. I am not a genie, and I do not serve at your command,” the Djinn said, with a tone of warning.

Charlie was taken aback by the Djinn’s response. He had never heard of a Djinn with a specific purpose like this. The Djinn continued, “My purpose is to ensure that Islam remains the most powerful religion in the world. I have been tasked with this responsibility by the great king of the Djinn, and I will not allow anything to threaten the supremacy of my faith.”

Charlie was surprised by the Djinn’s words. He had never thought about converting to Islam, and he didn’t know how to respond to the Djinn’s prophecy. “I’m not sure what you mean,” Charlie said, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible.

The Djinn replied, “You will soon see the beauty and power of Islam, and you will become a proud servant of Allah”.

Charlie felt a sudden rush of energy as the Djinn’s hand touched his head. He tried to resist, but the Djinn’s grip was too strong. Suddenly, Charlie found himself on his knees, unable to move as the Djinn began to recite a prayer in Arabic.

Charlie felt a strange sensation all over his body as the Djinn continued to recite the prayer. He felt his skin start to darken and his facial features shift, until he looked more like an Arab man than his original appearance. His lips get fuller, his eyes darker and his hair turn black and thicker. And a small dark beard growing. His clothes changed too, and he found himself wearing traditional green djellaba. and his mind became filled with knowledge of Islam and the Quran. He began to speak Arabic fluently, and his native language was forgotten.

Picture from @kiffarab​

Charlie was stunned as he looked down at his transformed body, and he realized that he was now a part of the Muslim community. He couldn’t believe what had just happened to him, but he felt a sense of peace and belonging that he had never experienced before. He knew that his life had changed forever, and he had a new purpose in life.

Suddenly, the Djinn stopped reciting the prayer and removed his hand from Charlie’s head. The transformation was complete, and Charlie found himself looking completely different than he had just a few moments ago. He felt confused and disoriented, unsure of what to do next.

Charlie looked at his transformed body in wonder, touching his face, his beard, and his djellaba, still processing the sudden change that had just occurred. The Djinn looked at him with a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. 

“You have done well, my child,” he said. “But you must understand that your old name, Charlie, is not suitable for a good Muslim like yourself. I will give you a new name, one that is befitting of your new purpose.“

The Djinn closed his eyes and muttered a few words under his breath. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the desert, and Charlie felt a sense of power and strength fill him. The Djinn opened his eyes and spoke, "Your new name shall be Abdullah, which means ‘servant of Allah’. May this name bring you good fortune and lead you on the path of righteousness.”

Abdullah was amazed by the Djinn’s choice of name. He felt a sense of belonging and purpose that he had never experienced before. He was no longer confused or disoriented, but instead felt a sense of clarity and conviction. He knew that he had been chosen for a purpose, and he was ready to embrace it.

The Campus Conversion

The new semester had just begun at Westbridge University. Among the many groups on campus, the Arab Cultural Society, composed entirely of male students, had recently gained attention. Initially, it was a small group promoting Arabic language and culture, but their presence began to grow noticeably.

These male students could often be seen in the quad, wearing white Nike jerseys with green details and black fanny packs. They looked confident, unified, and their numbers seemed to expand each day.

Sophomore Chris, an engineering major, noticed them during a campus fair. They were friendly, inviting male students to learn about Arabic culture and join their society. Chris grabbed a flyer and moved on, but the image of the group lingered in his mind.

A few weeks into the semester, Chris was approached by Tariq, a charismatic member of the Arab Cultural Society. He was friendly and asked if Chris had considered attending their upcoming event.

“It’s going to be great,” Tariq said with a smile. “We’re having a cultural night with food, music, and a lot of fun. You should come.”

Chris hesitated but eventually agreed. “Sure, why not? I’ve never been to one of these events before.”

The event was lively, with traditional Arabic music, delicious food, and a welcoming atmosphere. Tariq introduced Chris to several members, all dressed in their signature Nike jerseys and fanny packs. By the end of the night, they handed Chris a fanny pack, encouraging him to wear it as a sign of solidarity.

“Just try it on,” Tariq suggested. “It’s comfortable and shows that you’re part of something bigger.”

Over the next few weeks, Chris noticed more and more male students wearing the Nike jerseys and fanny packs. They seemed to be everywhere—at the library, in the cafeteria, even in his classes. The Arab Cultural Society was no longer just a small group; it had become a dominant presence on campus.

The male students who wore the jerseys began to change in subtle ways. Their appearances grew more uniform—darker hair, more intense expressions, and they started using Arabic names. Chris, now wearing his own fanny pack, began to feel the pressure to fully embrace the transformation.

One afternoon, as Chris walked across campus, he bumped into his friend Jake, who had also started wearing the jersey. But something was different about him—he looked more serious, more confident, and his name tag now read “Khalid.”

“Jake, what’s going on?” Chris asked, confused.

“Call me Khalid now,” he replied with a calm smile. “I’ve embraced the new identity. You should too.”

Chris felt a wave of unease. The people he had known for years were changing, and it was all happening so quickly.

The pressure to conform grew stronger with each passing day. The Arab Cultural Society began holding more events, encouraging male students to join and wear the jerseys and fanny packs. Those who resisted found themselves increasingly isolated, while those who embraced the change were welcomed with open arms.

Chris found himself at a crossroads. He liked the sense of community the group offered, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to fully commit to the transformation. One evening, Tariq invited him to a special meeting, where they would officially welcome new members.

As Chris entered the room, he saw dozens of male students, all wearing the jerseys and fanny packs, their features now distinctly Arabic. They greeted him warmly, but there was an underlying expectation—an unspoken pressure to join them fully.

“Tonight, we embrace who we truly are,” Tariq announced. “We shed our old identities and become part of something greater.”

Chris felt the weight of their gaze on him as they handed him a new Nike jersey and fanny pack, this time with his new name, “Ahmed,” stitched on it. The room was silent as he held it in his hands, knowing that once he put it on, there would be no going back.

By the end of the semester, the transformation was complete. The campus was filled with male students wearing the white Nike jerseys with green details and black fanny packs. Their features were now distinctly Arabic, and they moved with a sense of unity and purpose.

Chris, now Ahmed, walked through the quad, no longer feeling like an outsider. He was part of the new order, part of a movement that had changed the face of the university. As he looked around at his fellow students, he realized that the transformation was not just physical—it was a complete change of identity, one that he had fully embraced.

And as the new semester began, it was clear that Westbridge University would never be the same again.

At last even the teachers knew that it was better to join willingly.

Hayun Wadud

It was hard for Tom Holland to imagine his life getting any better than it already was. Not even 30 years old, he was a multi-(multi-multi-)millionaire, global star of stage and screen, blessed with multitudes of talent and, not for nothing, an equally successful and famous girlfriend.

So when his agent told him a burgeoning group of movie studios based out of Saudi Arabia wanted Tom--and only Tom--to star in its first big-budget movie, Tom figured...why not? It's not like he had anything to lose.

When he arrived for the shoot, he was overwhelmed by the almost contradictory sense of humble majesty in the country. The people welcomed him, not because he was Spider-Man--almost as though they'd been waiting for him.

His benefactors, the producers, certainly had been awaiting his arrival. Their welcome for Tom had been lavish, no expense spared. But this was no Hollywood party. It was purely Saudi. Not a word of English was spoken, no one smoked or drank or swore. Prior to his arrival, Tom knew a handful of Arabic words osmosed through past conversations. He wasn't consciously aware when his mind began to think, and his tongue to speak, purely in Arabic.

"Nadeem," one of the producers called in Tom's direction. Tom responded; he wasn't sure why he knew he should answer to that name, if it even was a name...he just knew he should. "Nadeem," the prince/producer continued, "we are so glad to see you assimilating so well. Now you must fully immerse yourself in our culture and tradition." The prince paused. "For your acting role, of course."

Tom nodded. In unconscious Arabic, he replied, "Of course, brother. I will do whatever is needed."

Six Weeks Later

What had been needed, he was told, was to grow out his beard in accordance with Islamic custom. Tom obeyed without question, just as he did when he was taught that he must also keep his underarms and genital area free of hair. He made sure to observe strict modesty in his dress, throwing out the tank tops and shorts he'd packed for the trip to Saudi, ensuring his shoulders and legs were never exposed. Other customs he absorbed and assimilated without being told. He lowered his gaze in the presence of Saudi women. He exorcised all profanity from his vocabulary, sprinkled "alhamdulillah" and "inshallah" effortlessly throughout his speech, and forgot what pork had tasted like.

After six weeks in Saudi, Tom was eager to get going on the movie shoot. Over lunch with the producers, he humbly--almost sheepishly--asked when his job would begin. "Soon, Nadeem," one of the princes said in response; Tom had long since become accustomed to being called Nadeem. He thought of it as a term of endearment. "We are working behind the scenes to prepare for your role. I promise you, Nadeem, it will be the role of a lifetime inshallah."

Tom beamed at that. Somehow, instinctually, he knew it to be true.

One Year Later

Another glorious day in Saudi Arabia. Another gift from Allah to one of his humblest, most loyal servants. These days Nadeem al-Fasih bore vague memories of a life other than his, a life filled with reckless excess, hedonistic indulgence and an utter disregard for God and the Quran. But those memories, if they had even been real, were merely echoes, as though they accounted for an alternate version of him from some other universe.

Nadeem was no hedonist, no infidel by any means. He was the kingdom's foremost ambassador to the godless Western world, almost like a movie star among the Muslim faith. At just 22 years old he had a prominence typically reserved for only the highest ranking members of the royal family. Although, like many Saudis, Nadeem had some royal blood in his veins, he had not been particularly highborn. Now, though, he was the face of Saudi Arabia across the earth.

And that face came with a charismatic, powerful voice, a deep and resonant Arab lilt that made effective dawah wherever he went. It wasn't rare for Nadeem to return from a trip abroad and inform the royal family that yet another nation-state had reverted to Islam, its people embracing their superior Arab heritage and devoting themselves to Allah. In just his first full year of global dawah, Nadeem was primarily responsible for converting what had been Great Britain into the United Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, even unifying Ireland in the process under the Islamic flag. He had garnered the international nickname "Hayun Wadud" for his innate ability to turn cities and townships rife with internal conflict and division into friendly Muslim neighborhoods.

Despite that, as he walked with his brothers to Friday prayers, Nadeem felt no pride nor inflation of ego. He felt what any good Muslim should feel--submission to Allah and an ever-growing desire to help more and more avoid the fate of hellfire and join him and his brothers, sisters and wives in the birthright of Islam.