Ash sank into the couch. The old leather groaned under his weight. It was stiff, worn, and smelled faintly of dust and old sweat. Zoey hovered close on one side, too close. Nina sat on the other, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
Across from them, Guz and Hannah sat on a faded couch, the cushions slumping under the years.
The room was quiet in a tired way—like everything inside had learned to keep going without making noise.
Guz leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"Ash just survived a journey through Sandworm Valley and made it out alive. That should be impossible."
He let out a dry chuckle. No humor in it. More like someone mocking death after brushing shoulders with it.
"I still remember the first time I saw him. I was on the cabin, keeping watch. It was quiet. Just the wind and the dunes. Then the storm came in—fast. I thought it was just another dead wind until I saw a figure walking straight through it."
His eyes met Ash's.
