Each footstep etched itself briefly into the desert sand, only to be swallowed moments later by the shifting wind.
Sweat trickled down their foreheads, along their cheeks, through their arms and legs—dripping onto the burning ground below.
The group marched beneath the unrelenting sun. Skin flushed red, clothes soaked. Mouths hung open, desperate for breath—except for Liam, whose expression remained unchanged.
"Hey…" Brandon broke the silence.
"Yeah?"
"Thomas, right?"
"Mm. People call me Tom."
"How old are you?"
"Turning fifteen this year."
"Oh."
"It's been three days straight now, hasn't it?" Alex chimed in.
"Yeah," Brandon said, bitterly. "Three days. No sign of the game stopping. People are still dying…"
The truth hung heavy over the group, weighing down their steps.
"But we've got video proof now," Caitlyn panted. "Your partner must've captured footage of us being taken."
"I hope so."
"Is this… is this all going to end?" Thomas asked, his voice soft.
Brandon forced a weak smile. "Yeah. Most likely."
"Let's talk while we walk," he suggested, trying to lift the mood.
Alex nodded. "You start, then."
Brandon hesitated, mouth half open, but said nothing.
"I'm Thomas White," Thomas offered instead. "Fifteen. I'm in school. Hate homework."
"Don't we all," Alex chuckled.
"I'm, uh, pretty good at drawing."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I love art. After school, I just rush home to sketch or paint... anything, really."
"Which school?" Brandon asked.
"Southside High."
Brandon chuckled. "Wouldn't know it. Never been to school."
"Why?" Alex asked, surprised.
"Wasn't given the chance," Brandon replied vaguely. "But if I could… I'd want to live like you guys."
His voice dipped, and his eyes fell to the sand. Sensing the change, Alex gently shifted the focus.
"I'm pushing fifty," he said.
The group turned toward him, still trudging forward.
"So, my story's a little outdated. When I was a kid, I didn't worry about much. Girls and what's for dinner were my biggest concerns. I wasn't a fan of school either—my parents forced me to go.
You know why I became a cop?"
"Why?"
"Because my life was shit. My first arrest was my dad—drug abuse. Not exactly a proud moment. But I'm not sure even that was as rough as what you're all facing now. What I'm saying is… this sucks. But don't give up. The game will end. Trust me."
"I never planned to give up," Caitlyn said. "Even if there's a 50% chance of dying every day now. Life's always been numbered. As long as I still have people I love"—her gaze flicked to Liam—"I won't let go of it."
"Brandon," Alex said, "seeing as people call you a savior, is it fair to say you've risked your life every game, just like right now?"
Brandon didn't answer, but the way his head dipped slightly said enough.
"Your life matters too. You might hate it. Might wish for another one. I don't need the details to know you've been through a lot. But one day, you might learn to love life again."
Liam blinked, caught off guard by Alex's intuition. He hadn't considered that Brandon might be suicidal. He'd always assumed Brandon did what he did out of goodwill—out of courage. But maybe, all along, he'd just wanted a good reason to throw his life away. And Alex had picked up on that in minutes.
"Thanks," Brandon said quietly. Then, with a faint, tired smile, he turned. "You don't want to share anything, Liam?"
Liam had walked in silence the whole time, his demeanor unreadable.
"Come on," Brandon urged, "we're alone out here. Just us and the horizon, it's like the end of the world, almost. Might as well say what's on your chest."
"I have nothing to say."
"At least tell us about yourself."
"There's nothing about me either."
Brandon turned away again, sighing. "Hey... I'm sure we'll survive this round. Why don't we all meet in real life?"
"I'm down," Thomas said instantly.
"You guys live near Magnus University?" Caitlyn asked.
"We'll check," Brandon said. "You study there?"
"Yeah. Him too." Caitlyn nodded at Liam.
"I see. Well… I'm happy to meet all of you." Brandon smiled—genuine this time, though still faint.
"Look ahead," Alex said, pointing.
A miracle.
The shoot of a date palm pierced through the sand.
The group froze, eyes wide in disbelief. They'd been walking for thirty brutal minutes—hopeless, dehydrated, defeated. And now, life.
Alex chuckled, hand still raised. "End of the world, huh? Even hope shows up at the end of the world."
Without another word, the group bolted toward it. Sprinting, panting—chests heaving with sudden adrenaline. Even Liam joined in.
Alex stayed behind, watching their shrinking silhouettes. His eyes lingered longest on Liam, a quiet worry blooming in his chest.
He sighed, wiped sweat from his brow, and kept walking.