For the past few days, Hugo had found himself dreaming.

In his dream, he saw a replica of himself standing still with closed eyes, floating in an endless sky illuminated by the sway of myriad multicolored lights.

Amidst those lights, he sometimes glimpsed scenes in which his friends appeared.

Sophie looked happy, beyond the typical joy she used to exude.

Fabio, on the other hand, seemed very worried.

Next to them, there was a well-dressed young woman with a sinister face... so sinister that his oneiric self trembled in an attempt to wake up, though recurrently falling back into lethargy.

After a while, a scene occurred where his vision was filled with thick red, one so intense that it didn't seem to disappear.

Hugo looked down confused, and for the first time since he started dreaming, he saw his own hands stained with red.

Suddenly, his own neck was slashed, and blood splattered his replica’s body.

His own body trembled to the point where his vision began to blur.

Then, he woke up from his dream.

"Aaah!"

After waking up, Hugo touched his neck and noticed that he now had a scar.

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Then he looked at his hands with his still blurry vision and saw their silhouettes stained with what seemed to be dried blood.

Behind them, there was a floor covered in an intense red, the same one he had seen in his dream.

Around him were some neighbors trying to tell him something, but Hugo, who was still lost in the sauce of his dream, shouted at them angrily, so they gradually left.

While his vision cleared, Hugo's mind tried to make sense of the situation.

Now he was alone, amidst his destroyed house, with the floor stained with blood.

His cheeks were also strangely sore, to the point that he couldn't feel his own face.

He looked around and saw Victor lying on the floor.

He approached him and put his hand on his open mouth.

Victor was no longer breathing.

On the floor beside him, he saw a white note that had not been affected by the wreckage.

He slowly reached for it and then read it.

The handwriting on the note was eerily beautiful.

“...”

After reading it, Hugo tore the note, threw himself on the floor, and started hitting it.

"Why? Why did it have to be them?! It should have been me, not them!"

With each hit, the next one became stronger.

When his hands began to break, Hugo cursed into the air.

But then, he stood still, and silence flooded the room.

His eyes gleamed with a burning determination as his will made a silent vow.

He got up from the floor and navigated through the remnants of his house, washing his body with well water, grabbing a backpack, and packing the remains he needed.

After finishing, he put the backpack on his back and walked out through the ruined entrance.

Hugo, for the first time in his life, was determined to leave the desert.

(End of the first arc: Prelude.)