Zahhak tossed in his sleep, haunted by a vision of a young warrior wielding a mighty mace. The air was thick and foreboding, as the warrior's companions flanked him, their eyes blazing with determination. With a swift motion, the warrior struck Zahhak down and bound his hands, dragging him toward the jagged peaks of the Alborz. The dream felt too vivid, too real, and with a terrified cry, Zahhak awoke, his heart pounding in his chest.

Arnavaz and Shahrnaz, Zahhak's wives, were startled by his sudden outburst. They rushed to his side, their expressions a mix of concern and bewilderment. "What troubles you, my lord?" Shahrnaz asked softly, her voice soothing. Zahhak, still shaken by the dream, recounted the terrifying vision to them, his voice trembling with unease. "No one can harm you, not with your strength," Arnavaz reassured him, her hand gently resting on his arm.

By dawn, Zahhak's fear had not subsided. He summoned his astrologers and astronomers, demanding an interpretation of his ominous dream. The room was filled with tension as Zirak, the leader of the astrologers, stepped forward, his face pale but resolute. "A child named Fereydoon will be born," he began, his voice echoing in the silent chamber. "He will grow strong, nurtured by the mountains, and one day will rise against you."

Zahhak's eyes narrowed as he listened, his mind racing with thoughts of power and threats. "Why would this Fereydoon hate me so?" He demanded, his voice a mix of anger and fear. Zirak hesitated, but under Zahhak's piercing gaze, continued, "You have ordered the death of his kin, and seek to destroy the sacred cow that will nourish him."

Zahhak pondered the prophecy, his mind swirling with thoughts of preemptive action. He would not sit idly by and wait for this threat to materialize. "We must find this cow and the boy," he declared, his voice firm with resolve. Arnavaz and Shahrnaz, sensing the gravity of the situation, exchanged worried glances, knowing the lengths Zahhak would go to protect his reign.

Unbeknownst to Zahhak, whispers of resistance had already begun to spread. In distant valleys, people spoke of the prophecy and the hope it brought to those who had suffered under his rule. The legend of Fereydoon was becoming a beacon of hope, a promise of change that would not be easily extinguished. As Zahhak plotted his next move, the seeds of rebellion were taking root, ready to challenge the tyranny of the serpent king.