The wind cut like thin blades, lashing his orange-brown skin, cracked by the sun and pain. The desert sand, cold as the ashes of an extinguished fire, seeped through his torn clothes, sticking to the sweat and blood that still oozed from old cuts.

  Suno opened his eyes slowly, his eyelashes heavy with dust. The sky above him was a starless void - a dark vault that seemed to want to swallow him up. His body swayed, his bones aching with every movement. He was being carried.

  They were familiar arms. Warm. Protective.

  It was his brother.

  But the warmth suddenly stopped. The firm steps faltered. The body carrying him faltered... and fell.

  Suno felt the dry impact as he was thrown to the ground, the air escaping from his lungs.

  When he raised his head, his eyes met his brother's face - eyes open, but empty.

  Blood was dripping from the corner of his eyes. A thick, dark thread, almost black in the non-existent evening light.

  The world then split in half.

  The ground disappeared.

  The sound distorted, as if time itself had refused to continue.

  Suno shouted, but he didn't hear her voice.

  All around him, shadows formed. Familiar faces emerged from the gloom - the Elders of the Stelos Tribe, wrapped in robes, with eyes like coals burning in judgment.

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  They said nothing. But he listened.

  Words sharp as arrows stuck in his mind:

  - You are to blame. You are the ruin. You are the omen.

  His fingers trembled, and he saw: they were red, damp. Blood.

  He tried to wipe it off, but the blood wouldn't come out. It was as if it had been burned into his skin, a mark invisible to everyone but the gods.

  And that's when he felt it.

  In the heart of the abyss, far below all hope, something was watching him.

  It was no ordinary monster.

  It wasn't a desert beast.

  It was a presence. Ancient. Heavy as millennia.

  It pulsed with hunger and silence.

  It whispered in a voice that had no sound, but echoed inside his ribs like the beat of an ancient drum.

  Suno fell to her knees, her body trembling. She wanted to run. He wanted to close his eyes.

  But something stopped him.

  Above him, in a sky where before there had been only darkness, a point of light appeared. Faint. Lonely.

  A silver, silent crescent moon hung over him like a veil of remembrance.

  A melody echoed from it.

  It was a song that seemed to be made of wind and longing. A feminine voice, soft, sweet... and full of pain.

  Suno recognized it.

  It was the same voice his mother used when she told him the old stories of the great Suno, the hero of a thousand battles. And then the voice changed to a younger one, unknown to him, but just as comforting.

  But now, that voice was crying.

  The moon... was crying.

  And he knew it.

  She too had been poisoned. Just like her brother.

  - ...I'm sorry... - he whispered, his lips cracked, his throat dry.

  The darkness was advancing. He felt his fingers being swallowed up first, then his arms, then his legs.

  Fear was a living beast in his chest.

  But even so, he remained kneeling.

  There was no one else.

  If it wasn't him... who?

  It was at that moment that something changed inside him. A small, timid flame ignited.

  Faint, but stubborn.

  And, with a broken but firm voice, he swore:

  - Even if I'm scared...

  Even if my bones break...

  Even if my skin melts...

  I, Suno Verloren... promise.

  This time, I will be the sun that lights your way.

  And with his eyes turned to the moon that still shone, even if it was wounded,

  he plunged into darkness.