The sand was red as living flesh, and heat shimmered across the horizon, distorting everything in the distance.
Vast dunes stretched as far as the eye could see, alternating between deep crimson and blackened patches that looked scorched by some ancient fire.
Farther away, twisted towers pierced the gray sky, some leaning, others broken cleanly in half.
They were the remains of a civilization the desert had begun swallowing so long ago that no one should have remembered its name anymore.
Skeletal horses wandered without riders, their ribs visible beneath thin, dried-out skin, yet they continued trudging slowly between the dunes as though searching for something that no longer existed.
At certain points along the path, ancient corpses remained impaled on metal stakes, the wind passing through their shattered armor and producing a low whistle that sounded almost human.
The silence screamed.
I stood before the stone arch marking the entrance to the Red Deserts, the structure resembling a colossal jaw rising from the earth.
Wind swept through the gateway, throwing hot sand against my face, but I didn't even blink, one hand resting close to my sword.
Beside me, Tsukumo studied the horizon, his long black braids whipping in the wind while his golden eyes searched every dune, every shadow, every distortion in the terrain.
"So this is it," Tsukumo murmured.
"Yeah." I took the first step.
"We're here."
Tsukumo crossed the arch beside me, and the instant his feet touched the sand on the other side, his expression changed and he stopped abruptly.
"What?" I asked, noticing his hesitation.
Tsukumo slowly lowered his gaze.
A thin layer of sand began rising around his boots. For several seconds, the grains remained suspended in the air, defying logic, before falling again.
"The gravity here is irregular," Tsukumo explained.
"Not simply weak or strong." He closed his hand. Some grains rose while others sank.
"It changes direction."
The first kilometer made it clear that this place had no intention of welcoming us.
The wind shifted without warning.
One moment, it blew hot enough to make the metal of our weapons burn; the next, it turned freezing cold.
In some places, the ground sank beneath our feet like water, while elsewhere the sand was so rigid it might as well have been stone.
Dark clouds remained completely still overhead, ignoring the sandstorms tearing across the surface below.
Nothing here seemed to obey natural laws.
I walked ahead, with Tsukumo a few steps behind.
"Did he say we were supposed to meet him after the arch?" Tsukumo asked.
"He didn't specify anything."
"Then where is he?"
I didn't answer.
My eyes had settled on a distant dune, and Tsukumo followed my gaze.
At the top of the sandy rise stood a motionless man.
Black armor covered most of his body, made from light, fitted plates designed to allow movement beneath the brutal heat.
A helmet completely concealed his face, marked only by a single horizontal red stripe across the visor.
A spear rested across his back.
There he was.
He was staring at something far beyond us, seemingly uninterested in our arrival.
I ignored the hunter's posture and kept walking.
"He was waiting for us," Tsukumo concluded.
When we reached the base of the dune, he finally turned his head.
He remained silent for several seconds before descending without the slightest hurry.
His steps barely sank into the sand.
When he stopped in front of us, he looked first at Tsukumo, then at me.
"Took you long enough," his voice came out muffled and metallic.
I narrowed my eyes.
"You didn't give us a time."
"No."
"Then we weren't late."
"You were late to the one waiting," the hunter replied.
Tsukumo followed him with his eyes while I stood there, irritated.
The Red Desert had no roads, but he made one.
He knew exactly where to step, when to avoid a dune, and when to cross one.
At one point, he raised a hand without looking back.
Tsukumo and I froze.
Seconds later, the sand a few meters ahead of us slowly collapsed.
An area more than fifty meters wide vanished into an enormous funnel, revealing something gigantic moving beneath the surface.
It was only a long, slow shadow.
Then it disappeared as the terrain returned to normal.
"What was that?"
"Don't know," the armored man replied.
"Knowing not to step there is enough."
We continued marching.
Some time later, he stopped again, this time raising two fingers.
Tsukumo immediately tensed.
"Something's coming."
"Several things," the armored man corrected.
A low scratching sound rose from behind the dunes, like nails scraping against stone.
My hand closed around the sword's hilt as the first creature appeared at the top of the ridge.
It moved on four limbs far too long for its body, its back covered in heavy plates of bone and its eyes completely white.
The armored man glanced back.
"Don't kill any of them."
I stopped.
"What?"
"Don't kill them," he repeated.
He drove the tip of his spear into the sand.
A dry impact traveled through the ground, and the creature recoiled with a growl.
He struck the weapon down again.
Twice.
Three times.
The sand beneath us began to vibrate, not like an earthquake, but in a rhythmic pulse.
Immediately, the beasts began retreating one after another until they vanished behind the dunes.
"What did you do?"
"They weren't hunting you," he said, already walking again.
"They were driving you away."
"This is their territory."
I returned the sword to its sheath.
"And if we'd killed one?"
"Their blood attracts the mother."
Hours later, the sun began to fall, and its red light darkened the dunes even further.
We reached a stone plateau where three colossal pillars rose from the ground, tall enough to be seen from kilometers away.
Each was covered in strange symbols carved into its surface.
The armored man tossed a small bag onto the ground.
"We're staying here."
I looked around, dissatisfaction bitter in my mouth.
"Why exactly are we following you?"
"Because I have answers to your questions," he replied.
"For free?" Tsukumo asked.
"Who knows?"
I stared into the darkness slowly consuming the desert.
The armored man crouched and began preparing a fire.
A small, controlled flame came to life soon afterward.
I sat on a rock, with Tsukumo on the opposite side of the flames.
The armored man still wore that damned helmet, his spear resting close to his body.
For several minutes, only the crackling of burning wood filled the air, until Tsukumo began studying the three ancient pillars surrounding us more closely.
"These symbols..." He pointed.
"We've seen some of them before."
I shifted my gaze to the stone.
There were curved lines, circles crossed by geometric shapes, eyes, crowns, serpents, and broken suns.
Some symbols had been violently scratched out.
Others had been carved over older markings.
The armored man placed another piece of wood into the fire.
"Of course you have."
"What do they mean?" I asked.
The hunter didn't answer immediately.
He ran his thumb along the side of his glove before speaking.
"You really entered this sector without knowing?"
"Knowing what?"
He raised his head.
The red visor of his helmet reflected the dancing flames.
"Who it belongs to."
A tense silence formed between us.
I saw Tsukumo straighten.
"The planet?" he asked.
"Everything."
He gestured toward the desert around us.
"The cities. The ruins. The horizon. The mines."
He paused.
"The people."
"Everything belongs to a Messenger."
I frowned.
The fire cracked louder, matching my growing irritation.
"This entire planet works for him," the hunter continued.
"Some cities believe they do it by choice. Others stopped asking that question generations ago."
He partially rose and pointed at the markings on the stones.
He indicated a shape resembling a circle crossed by three vertical cuts.
"That's a territorial seal."
He pointed to another.
"That one marks authorized trade routes. Tribute. Recruitment."
His fingers stopped over a shape resembling an open hand crossed by a straight line.
He stared at the stone.
"This is one you'll want to remember."
"Why?" I looked up.
"Prisons."
The single word seemed to drain the air from around the fire.
I didn't move a muscle, but my entire body tensed, the stillness suddenly charged and dangerous.
He noticed.
"Prisons?" I repeated, my voice colder than I'd intended.
"Interesting. Something finally got your attention."
"What prisons?" I ignored the provocation.
He leaned against a rock.
"The Red Deserts were once used for mining and disposal."
"For anything that couldn't remain near the cities. Unstable weapons. Creatures. Experiments. Traitors. Enemy soldiers."
He let the words settle, but I never looked away.
"People too important to kill."
"There are dozens of facilities scattered across this desert."
"Active?" I fired back.
"Most of them."
"How many?"
"Don't know exactly. The desert is vast."
"You just said you know this place."
"Knowing the region and possessing a complete map of a Messenger's prisons are two different things."
I gripped my knees, anxiety mixing with restrained anger.
"Which one is the largest?"
He looked from me to Tsukumo, hesitating for a fraction of a second before answering.
"The largest would definitely be the Black Sand Tower."
"Great. We have a destination."
I stood.
"Let's go now."
He didn't move.
"Why the rush, kid?"
My hand slid slowly toward the sword's hilt.
It wasn't an open threat, just a reflex born from the pure impatience burning in my chest.
"You don't understand," the hunter said.
"I've lived here long enough to know every newcomer says that shortly before they die."
"Suki," Tsukumo warned.
I held the helmet's blind stare for several long seconds before relenting, releasing the weapon and sitting again.
"If the person you're looking for ever fell into his hands, a prison would be one possible place," he continued.
His, I noticed.
"You keep talking about him without explaining anything."
I rested my forearms on my knees and leaned forward.
"You started. Now finish."
He sighed, the sound leaking metallically through the respirator.
"You don't know where you've ended up."
He picked up a piece of dead charcoal and drew a large circle on the ground, filling it with scattered points and intersecting lines.
"The universe you know is much larger than the maps in circulation. Entire regions are ruled without kings, without parliaments, without visible armies."
"The Messengers have influence."
He pointed at the markings.
"Each one controls something."
"Every territory has marks. They're there so you know when you've stepped onto someone's property."
"Planets aren't property," I objected.
"They are here."
The scale of that statement silenced us for a moment.
"And no one fights against it?" Tsukumo asked, staring at the symbols.
The armored man let out a bitter laugh completely devoid of humor.
"Every day. And yet you're still looking at their symbols carved into stone."
Realizing the warning hadn't produced whatever fear he might have expected, he dropped the charcoal.
"You still don't understand."
"I do," I shot back.
"Doesn't look like it."
"A Messenger isn't simply someone powerful."
"They own planets. Armies. Governments. Some have gods working for them. You could kill ten thousand men and still never get close to one."
"Then I'll kill more than that," I replied, my voice carrying an unwavering certainty born from somewhere deep in my stomach.
He went still.
I could feel him searching my eyes for any trace of youthful arrogance, ignorance, or hesitation.
Searching for the face of a boy who hadn't understood the scale of the danger.
There was nothing like that there.
I had understood every word.
Every symbol.
Every army.
Every risk.
I simply didn't care.
"If Laura is inside one of those prisons..." I continued, never looking away from the fire.
"I'm going in."
"And if he's there?"
"Then I kill him. Isn't that what plenty of people want?"
Tsukumo didn't react.
It was as though my friend had already known exactly what I would say.
The armored man, however, needed several seconds to absorb that suicidal certainty.
He lowered his gaze to the flames.
"Kid... determination doesn't change the difference in strength."
"Neither does courage."
"Then why do you talk like it's simple?"
"I never said it would be simple," I replied.
"I only said what I'm going to do."
Something subtle shifted in the air.
Tsukumo noticed the change in tension.
So did the armored man.
The hunter remained silent for a long moment before finally showing his hand.
"I'm hunting a Messenger."
"It's one of the reasons I'm in this region."
I narrowed my eyes.
"You want to kill him?"
"If the opportunity presents itself."
"Why?"
The hunter ran a hand along the shaft of his spear
"Bounty."
"There's a bounty on Messengers?"
He laughed.
"There's a bounty on anything capable of collecting enough enemies."
"And the reward is more money than either of you could spend across several lifetimes."
The crackle of burning wood filled the void in the conversation until I made the final connection.
"If he controls the prisons here, and you're trying to reach him..."
"Our paths may overlap," he suggested.
"Temporarily," Tsukumo concluded.
He nodded.
"Temporarily."
"You take us to the tower," I proposed.
"I would've taken you there anyway. The question is something else."
"What?"
"Are you really willing to go that far?"
"I don't trust you, but you don't need to question my determination."
Tsukumo relaxed his posture.
"You never told us your name."
He remained motionless.
Back in the city, he'd avoided answering.
He had always been "the hunter," "the armor."
For several seconds, he seemed to consider whether it was worth it.
Then he raised both hands to the sides of his helmet.
A small mechanism released with a metallic click, and the seal beneath his chin opened.
He slowly pulled the helmet upward.
First came a broad, weathered jaw covered by a short beard, dark at the center and streaked with gray along the sides.
Then thin lips, habitually pressed together.
An old scar crossed the left corner of his mouth and disappeared into his beard.
When the helmet revealed his entire face, it didn't match the armor's perfect coldness at all.
It was a living face.
Hard.
Deeply human.
His pale skin had been burned by years beneath violent suns.
Fine lines marked the corners of his eyes, witnesses to decades spent watching dangerous horizons.
His nose had been broken at least once and had healed slightly crooked, while a thin scar crossed his right eyebrow.
His hair fell unevenly around his head, gray and nearly white at the ends, flattened and disordered by sweat beneath the helmet.
But it was his eyes that held my attention.
Blue-gray.
Far too pale for the desert.
There was no heroic light in them.
No cruelty.
They were simply tired and ancient, the eyes of someone who had watched empires fall and families reduced to numbers on a ledger.
He placed the helmet on the stone.
For the first time, the wind touched his face.
"Sahger."
"Sahger," I repeated, testing the sound.
"Now you know my name."
"And you know ours," I pointed out.
"You're not very good at hiding."
Night swallowed the desert, bringing brutal cold with it almost instantly.
The fire burned low between the three pillars.
Tsukumo appeared to be asleep, but I remained seated, staring at a starless sky.
It was absolute darkness, as though that corner of the universe were being hidden from the rest of creation.
Across the fire, Sahger sharpened the tip of his spear with a stone, the metallic scrape cutting through the silence in a hypnotic rhythm.
"Afraid of what you're going to find?" Sahger asked without looking up.
"No," I answered immediately.
The whetstone stopped against the metal.
Sahger looked at me.
"She must be someone special."
I didn't need to answer.
Sahger resumed scraping the stone along the blade.
Time passed slowly, dragging itself across the frozen sand.
"Go to sleep, kid."
"You said something earlier," I insisted, unable to shut my mind off.
"Back in the city, I asked what made you different from the other hunters."
"You said 'motive.' What's yours?"
The hunter looked at me through the flames illuminating half of his weathered face.
"The bounty."
"No."
Sahger raised an eyebrow.
"No? You read minds now too?"
"You spent almost an hour explaining why no sane person hunts a Messenger, then said you're doing exactly that for money."
"Maybe you like money. But that's not it."
Sahger dragged the stone along the blade, his jaw visibly tense.
"You're too curious. And we're not close enough for me to start telling you my life story."
"You're right."
I rose from the stone.
I crossed past the fire and sat beside Tsukumo, who still appeared to be sleeping.
"I still don't trust you."
Sahger didn't answer.
"But I don't believe it's only about the money either."
I watched Sahger stare into the black horizon before finally planting his spear into the ground.
The red sun rose like a blade cutting through the dark horizon.
Sahger was already standing, his helmet once again sealing away his face and emotions.
Without grand words, we descended from the plateau and marched north.
For nearly three hours, the landscape remained a monotonous sea of sand, bones, and pulverized ruins until Sahger abruptly stopped.
At first, it looked like nothing more than a black line cutting across the distant horizon.
But as the wind swept the dust aside, the architectural monstrosity revealed itself.
It wasn't merely a tower.
It was colossal, a black structure rising from the desert like a needle driven into the living heart of the planet.
Wide at the base, it narrowed as it climbed, piercing the clouds and vanishing into the sky.
Red runes crawled across its outer walls, pulsing faintly like veins clogged with blood.
"That's..." Tsukumo murmured, awed and horrified at once.
"The Black Sand Tower," Sahger confirmed.
I stepped forward, the cutting wind lashing against me.
"The first time I heard about it, they said it had twenty-four floors. Years later, thirty-one."
"The tower grows," Tsukumo realized, disturbed.
"Like it's alive."
The three of us crossed the final distance.
The sand gave way to solid stone.
Hundreds of bones, both human and bestial, had been incorporated into the construction of the colossal double doors.
A deep, abyssal groan made the entire desert tremble beneath our feet, vibrating through the soles of my boots.
The red runes ignited one after another with feverish light, illuminating the skulls embedded in the walls.
The massive gates began to pull apart, revealing the suffocating darkness within.
It didn't look like the entrance to a building.
It looked like the throat of a sleeping beast opening to swallow us.