The wind was a living thing in the desert.

  It howled across the cracked earth like a predator, biting into Ash’s skin with every gust. The facility door creaked shut behind him with a final groan — not a slam, not a bang — just enough to tell him: This is it. You're on your own now.

  Ash paused, breathing in the hot, dry air. His lungs burned. Sand stung his eyes. The ground beneath his shoes was loose and sharp, every step stealing a little strength.

  There were no landmarks. Just rolling dunes of pale beige, thorny shrubs twisted into grotesque shapes, and scattered bones that told stories of things that didn’t survive.

  But Ash moved forward.

  He didn’t look back. He couldn’t.

  Every step south was a rebellion — against the facility, the fake comfort, the cold silence of the guards. Against the voice in his head whispering he should have stayed with Reva. That she would’ve followed him, maybe. That she cared.

  But caring got you killed.

  Only survival mattered.

  ---

  Ash crouched behind a cluster of dry rocks, his fork clutched tight in his palm. The sun had begun to set, painting the sky in sickly shades of orange and red. That’s when he saw them.

  Fox-like monsters.

  At first glance, they looked like desert foxes — slim, quick, fur the color of dust. But their eyes glowed yellow, and their jaws were too wide, too sharp. There was intelligence in the way they moved — low, silent, in a hunting formation.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Ash froze, crouched low, barely breathing.

  They were smelling something… something nearby.

  Me.

  His heart thudded against his ribs like a war drum. One of them looked in his direction. Its ears twitched.

  Then — a sudden screech behind them.

  They turned.

  The pack sprinted in the opposite direction, disappearing into the heat haze.

  Ash didn’t question why. He ran.

  ---

  The desert wasn’t just sand. It was alive.

  Next came the lizards. Huge, fast, scaled like snakes with legs. They moved like bullets — darting between rocks and vanishing under dunes. Ash barely avoided one as it leapt across his path, jaws snapping.

  He rolled behind a ridge, sweat pouring down his face. Every breath was a razor.

  But he kept going.

  ---

  After what felt like hours of running, hiding, climbing, and crawling, Every move in that wasteland was a gamble.

  I had no food. No water. Only a stolen fork hidden in my pocket, and stubbornness keeping me alive.

  ---

  Hours passed. Or days. I didn’t know.

  And then… I saw it.

  A massive cliff, rising from the sand like the world’s jagged edge. Unnatural. Out of place. Like it had been placed there on purpose.

  That was my only way forward.

  I approached slowly. My feet blistered. My throat dry.

  And I looked up.

  That’s where I go next.