At last, the world around them surrendered its last hints of life. The leaves, once sparse and brittle, were now gone altogether, leaving only skeletal trunks clawing against the sky. No birds sang, no insects hummed, not even the whisper of foliage remained. The air itself seemed thinner here, stripped of warmth, as though the land resented being tread upon.
Luke slowed his pace, boots crunching over the dry, cracked soil until he came to a stop. For the first time, he could see it clearly—the border between the living world and the dead. Before him stretched a vast expanse of pale sand, dunes rising and falling in lazy arcs until they disappeared into the distant horizon.
