Ren kept walking.
He did not know what was about to happen, or where exactly he was, but somewhere in his heart he knew that he didn't want to turn around—it wouldn't take him back to the chamber.
So he did what felt right—he advanced forward. It was hard to explain, but he could sense something… a strange kind of pull urging him further and further in a straight direction.
An insurmountable amount of gold mixed with reddish sand crunched under his boots.
'How long has it been since we started?' he asked Blaze, perched on his shoulder.
'Twelve hours… maybe more than that,' Blaze answered.
Ren wasn't weak by any means, but continuous advancement across hundreds of kilometres had taken a toll on his body and mind. He felt spent.
Letting the exhaustion wash over him, he fell onto his back, staring at the sprawling inky canvas above with faint agitation.
"Don't you feel like these stars…" Ren trailed off, unwilling to finish his thought. It sounded absurd.
