Abandoned, maybe—but certainly not dead.
That was my impression.
It wasn’t exactly the epitome of visual diversity, yet with a brief wave of Spiritual and Precursor Sense, I could feel the faint pulses of red energy thrumming just beneath the ocean of sand.
Strange, ring-shaped cacti rose sparsely across the dunes, their hollow spines glimmering faintly, and at their tips bloomed small, pink flowers like droplets of color defying the wasteland.
“So,” I breathed casually, the heat catching in my throat, “anything we should look for?”
Bristle didn’t respond, of course—only slid between my legs, either in a clumsy attempt at comfort or a deliberate effort to trip me. Considering the circling he began afterward, probably the latter.
Don’t know, Luna replied in my head, her tone far less enthusiastic now that we were outside. I just thought it might be interesting.
The horizon stretched endlessly, clear and sharp under the pale light. No ruins, no towers, no sign of civilization. Just rolling waves of yellow-orange sand.
“Guess I’ll have a look around.”
You should extend your sense too, Wyrem advised, his voice steady. It’s strange for such an isolated structure to exist.
I hadn’t thought about it until he mentioned it, but he was right. Why was there this lone outcropping rising from the dunes, sloping down into nothingness, surrounded by emptiness on all sides?
It had been a prison once, so surely there had to be a settlement somewhere… right?
I shook the thought away and stepped carefully across the shifting ground. No obvious danger revealed itself, but this place was naturally hostile to both Bristle and me. If my concentration strayed too far, we would literally be unable to breathe.
It made for awkward footing. Not impossible, but if I’d still been as weak as before my training, climbing the hill that half-melted beneath my boots, grains sliding like liquid, would have been nearly hopeless. I could have jumped the distance, but I didn’t want to stray too far; Bristle needed to remain within the protective veil of my energy. I could also tell jumping would prove challenging.
At the crest, sweat pooled along the back of my neck. I turned slowly in a full circle. Nothing but the same dunes—until something shimmered at the edge of sight.
Almost like a mirage born from heat and light, but darker in hue. A shift from pure sand to something denser, deeper in color. A tan fading toward brown. With little else to lose, I closed my eyes and reached out through my secondary sight.
It was distant, on the very rim of the horizon, and though my vision could stretch far beyond any normal human’s, the edges soon blurred just as they had back on the island. So my goal changed: no longer to confirm life, but to ensure that what I saw wasn’t simply imagination playing tricks with the light.
Time slipped by gently. A rare breeze swept through, cooling my damp neck and leaving behind a faint trace of salt and heat. Bristle began to pant, claws rustling softly as he dug into the sand, searching for cooler ground before settling down with a low sigh.
There, I called out silently.
You found something? Wyrem asked, his tone sharpening.
I shook my head but didn’t dismiss it. Only a flicker of movement. Something’s definitely shifting out there, but for all I know, it could just be one big rock rolling over another.
Even so, Luna offered, her tone brightening slightly, big rocks are better than endless sand. Also… could you remove your technique from me? I can’t feel the new materials anymore.
I opened my eyes, reaching down to pat Bristle’s head. “It’s easier to keep this form stable,” I murmured aloud. “Once we stop moving, I’ll adjust it.”
She made no objection, so I exhaled and let the desert’s dry air settle against my skin. Hot and sharp.
I exhaled a shaky breath and lifted my hands—cupping them carefully—as threads of moisture gathered between my palms.
Or… hmm.
There was resistance. A subtle push against my will, as if the power in the air was reluctant.
Luna? I called again.
She stirred faintly around my wrist, her form cool against my skin. What’s wrong?
How much Water Force is around here?
A pause. Then her voice returned. It’s here, she said simply. But I’m assuming you mean how much compared to the others?
I nodded, waiting for her to continue.
Less, she murmured. Far less. There’s an abundance of Fire Force… and Earth, more than usual. But that’s not really strange. When you were beneath the sea, it was the opposite: barely any Fire or Earth at all.
That wasn’t something I’d considered before, but it made sense. With a bit more focus, the water finally coalesced, swirling coldly into my cupped hands. I drank first, the coolness grounding me, then crouched to offer it to Bristle. He lapped it up with quick, eager strokes of his tongue, tail thumping once in gratitude.
I brushed my wet hands through the sand to wash off the remnants of cultivation-born puppy drool, the grains clinging before slipping away.
The trek resumed with slow, deliberate steps. We stopped only when Bristle growled, his eyes fixing on dips or shadows in the sand before glancing back at me. Each time, the pattern repeated, like a silent signal pulsing through the desert’s stillness.
Sweat continued to bead on my brow, tracing down the side of my neck before vanishing into my collar. How hot is this place? Ever since mastering Water Force, my resistance to temperature had strengthened; cold no longer bit at me, and heat rarely lingered with Fire. Yet even with that protection, the air here felt oppressive.
Bristle, however, seemed unbothered. His paws sank lightly into the sand, unharmed, his stride steady. Still, concern pricked at me. He wasn’t built for this place, at least not as I was. Hopefully soon he would be.
And then I noticed something stranger: there was no sun.
It was bright, fully day, but the sky held no orb of light. Just an endless, cloudless expanse of pale blue stretching beyond sight. The brightness came from everywhere and nowhere. Ahead, the strange formation I’d glimpsed earlier began to sharpen, no longer a mirage but solid and defined.
A pillar.
Layered slabs of yellow-orange rock stacked like a colossal, uneven tower. The edges crumbled where the wind had scoured them, yet the whole mass balanced impossibly, rising high into the empty sky.
And there—movement. Tiny shapes flickering across its surface, distance turning the into ants, but alive.
A quiet rush of relief moved through me. Civilization… maybe. Or at least, signs of life that weren’t buried beneath the sand. Of course, the thought that they could be hostile followed swiftly, but the hope of shelter, outweighed the risk.
Then Bristle’s growl tore through the air, but this one was different. His muscles coiled beneath his thick fur, shoulders rising, tail stiff and twitching. He prowled in tight circles, nose pressed low to the sand, nostrils flaring.
I turned, scanning the horizon. “What is it?” I asked softly.
No response. Only the deepening rumble in his throat.
Something’s moving, Luna warned, her voice taut. And it’s big.
Wyrem’s tone followed, sharper, colder. We know too little. Don’t wait—run.
“Bristle, mo—”
I never finished.
The ground erupted beneath us.
A column of sand and searing air exploded upward, flinging us back in a storm of heat and grit. The blast struck like molten wind, the crushed grains stinging against my face.
For half a second before instinct seized me, I saw it. A flash of pale orange light. Jagged ridges running along the back of something immense, carved from blackened stone. Then it dove, vanishing beneath the dunes, the ground rippling in its wake.
The desert convulsed, the surface heaving in waves that swelled before collapsing moments later. I sprinted, my legs burning, every step sinking deep into the treacherous sand. Each stride forcing momentum to slip away.
The air shimmered with heat. My lungs felt raw.
It was fast. Terrifyingly so. The ramp of shifting rock surged toward me in a relentless rhythm, the creature beneath lifting in steady pulses like it was breathing. Its long, needle-like form carved through the terrain.
It’s gathering power! Luna’s voice slammed through my mind, sharp with urgency.
I spun, sand sliding beneath my boots just as the creature burst upward again.
A shard of ice crystallized in the air before me, forming in a violent shimmer, edges freezing and narrowing into a spear of translucent blue veined with threads of red energy. I thrust it forward, and Fire Force flared in response, wreathing the projectile in a corona of orange light. It screamed across the air like a burning comet.
Bristle caught the cue, his own attack flaring beside mine, twin bursts of energy streaking through the rising haze.
Every shard hit. Each impact erupted into a staccato of steam and flame, a chain of small, thunderous bursts that briefly lit the desert.
But… nothing.
The creature halted. The smoke thinned, drifting apart in ragged whorls, and through it loomed its immense, gleaming form, motionless. It didn’t lunge or flee. It just stared.
The stillness between us felt suffocating, a silence so heavy it pressed against my skin. There was intelligence in that gaze, a recognition that made my spine tighten. The upper half of its body gleamed like carved amber, each segmented plate catching the light in slow, liquid ripples. Two broad, paddle-like limbs shifted slightly at its sides, stirring the sand in shallow waves.
Then, with a faint tremor that rippled down its length, the creature shuddered almost casually, as though shaking off the sting of a pebble. Its black, bead-like eyes blinked beneath thick lids, unhurried.
Bristle broke the paralysis first with a sharp bark.
“Go!” I shouted, and we moved as one, the sand erupting once more beneath our feet.