The Desert Divide is painful.

The fierce winds scatter granules of sand at lightning speed. The wind and sand must be considered torture to everything here. My body drips blood and my eyes are blinded several times over. I’ve learned to keep them shut and walk blindly in the sandstorm’s permanence.

But it can’t be permanent—I know this to be a fact, because I saw the landscape from above when I first entered Reais through the rift. The options I have now are to wait until the storm passes over me or to escape it.

Either way, it’s a wonder I’m still alive. My lungs, nose, mouth, lips—every bit of my exposed body is shredded and clogged with the relentless sands. Each granule burns with a heat I’d expect from the Fire Divide or the Acid Divide. And yet I manage to continue living.

This is torture.

Much like the Wall of Deaders subjecting everyone to horrible pain, gruesome memories of a foggy past, and the constant blanket of despair, I believe each of the Divides are intentional, made to torture everyone who ventures in without the slightest hope of natural death.

Even now, with these thoughts, I’m living in agony, and I can’t scream, I can’t run or bang my fists into something, because that’ll only make things worse. Open my mouth and I’ll get cupfuls of sand, run and I’ll be pushing my nude body into the sharp, burning granules.

This must be torture.

A second hell, a continuation of the suffering the nameless Deities have subjected me to because of my ignorance. Seething, I remind myself of the silver lining to all this agony.

I’m alive again.

True, alive but in endless pain, but when haven’t I been in pain? This is nothing new—all I’ve known is pain and the knowledge that things can be different, that a pain-free existence can be a reality. It’s just another tool the Deities use to punish me.

But I’m alive, walking, crawling, and stronger than I ever was in my memories as a Human. Whatever those Deities’ names are, I will have my vengeance. I will strike against them for this injustice.

Even now, gnashing my teeth in agony and rage, I mutter under my breath, “How can I be punished for not knowing you exist? How can I be punished for rules I didn’t know I was breaking!”

The anger rising within me has bubbled since I woke on the Wall and learned it is where the unfaithful reside. Whether due to ignorance, like my case, or choice, we’re cast into the Wall for being unfaithful to our world’s Deities.

Millions, billions of Deaders like myself… punished for not knowing.

If not for myself then for them… I will exact my vengeance.

A chorus of laughter fills my head and I shudder, looking from side to side. I see no one else by me; the sandstorm is difficult to see through, and even with enhancements from my new demonic form I can only manage so much.

There’s giggling now. A rush of footsteps behind me, then in front of me. I groan. “Show yourself!” Whoever it is doesn’t dare reveal themselves, but I hear them speak as clear as the sand in my mouth now.

Where are you going?

I keep my guard up, but the desert’s punishments persist along with the lost voices. I’ll need to find better shade and figure out my next move.

Blinded by the storm, I run into a rock large and wide enough to cover my body from one direction of the merciless sandstorm. It gives my back some reprieve from the biting, scathing slashes of sand digging up my flesh. My front is exposed, but I’ve learned, more out of necessity than ingenuity, that Essence—the power of the Crystal in my chest—has more uses than transforming my fingers into claws.

Channeling the Essence in bulk through my front side without letting it waste away requires conscious effort, but it’s worth it. [Tough Skin] alone isn’t up to the task of shielding me from the harrowing sands and heat, but together with the Essence, I can afford this brief respite.

Brief, because even as I sit by the rock, in the least amount of agony I’ve been through, the sands dig at my exposed parts, even the ones shielded with Essence. And with each second that passes, I feel part of my Essence stolen away with my torn-up flesh, Essence that won’t return without long rest. I can feel the power in the air, all around me and even in the sands hurtling at me. It’s everywhere in Reais, and my [Soul Crystal]—an object I’ve taken care to study—laps up the ambient Essence, but does so slowly.

As the only other source of Essence is other Demons, I figure I’ll have to fight for my survival so the environment doesn’t kill me before I can figure anything out. The finite power compels me to action, though not yet; the reprieve is sweet, but it’s not all I’ve stopped for.

Name: Nil

Race: Demon

Type: Transformed Deviant Soul

Age: Immortal – 4years

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.2— 65esq

[Available Essence Points— 10]

Strength: 12

Agility: 12

Wisdom: 7

Abilities: [Faithless Absorption], [Faithless Mimicry]

[Available Trait Points— 10]

Traits: [Tough Skin]- Lvl.2

[Available Ascension Perk— 1]

Ascension Perks: Nil

Spells: Nil

Patron: Nil

A lot has changed since I bit into the tusked Demon and killed the Lizardfolk. I can make sense of some of what the sheet says, what’s new. Just the word “Faithless” tells me the ability has something to do with my origins as a Faithless Deader. Absorption would refer to the consumption of the Lizardfolk’s Essence and the sweet slivers I got from the tusked Demon.

Mimicry… well, I suppose that explains the claws I used to tear into the Lizardfolk, something I’m still trying to replicate. My memory of the sensation is foggy, not complete in some parts, but I do remember wishing to be as fierce as possible.

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And the fiercest thing at that moment was the tusked Demon I was running away from.

Clenching my injured hands, I resolve to try again, at least once I’m not using Essence to shield myself.

[Spells]. I know enough not to doubt the existence and function of magic. I’m no fool—there’s little else that could have created such torment, such creatures, such plains of agony. The Lizardfolk, the Elves, the Dwarves: I’ve spent four long years waiting in a line to meet three house-sized Demons with these mythical beings, just to name a few.

Magic is a given, and now I can wield it… or at least, it’s implied that I can. I still have nothing under [Spells]. I suppose I’ll have to acquire them somehow. I haven’t gained any new [Traits] though, and the single one I have hasn’t budged since two years ago.

There is some good news though. Since moving up into Crimson and going up another level on that tier, I’ve gotten ten Essence points and ten Trait points. It’s not difficult to imagine what these points are for or even how to use them.

I direct my thought and add two points to all three stats.

[Available Essence Points- 4]

Strength: 14

Agility: 14

Wisdom: 13

I dump the last bit into wisdom just for some semblance of uniformity. Without any points to shift around, I can’t change the stat sheet any further—my first choice is my last choice.

I only have one Trait, [Tough Skin], but I’ve leveled it up twice so I’ve got ten points to spare. Without care, I dump it all into my single trait and get an alert.

[Tough Skin]- Lvl.5 Maxed!

Evolve Trait? Costs 2 Trait points.

I’ve got seven points left now and already the effects of the sandstorm are greatly mitigated, but not gone. Sure… why not? I indulge myself, intrigued to find out what exactly a trait evolution means.

[Tough Skin]- Lvl.5 Evolved!

Trait [Calloused Exterior]- Lvl.1 Attained!

There’s a significant difference with the evolved trait: my suffering is reduced by a margin, and though I’ve spent five points getting here I think it’s worth it. I’m left with five Trait points, and I figure I’ll dump those into whatever trait I pick up next.

The last part is rather confusing: [Ascension Perks]. The stat sheet still offers no tutorial on how any of this works, but when I went from Pink to Crimson I got one perk.

[Crimson Tier Ascension Perks]

[Dexterous Fiend] – Multiplies strength by *4. Increase Passive Healing by 15%. Base esq +40

[Mana Fiend] – Multiplies wisdom by *4. Increase Mana Gathering by 15%. Spell cost -10%. Base esq +40

[Reais Fiend] – Multiplies agility by *4. Increases Ambient Essence Absorption by 15%. Essence cost -10%. Base esq +40

I figure I can choose from any of the three available perks, though they all look pretty identical with few differences. Each one ties into one of my stats and aims to multiply it. Now I’m regretting not looking at this first before spending all my Essence points.

My first thought is to go for [Mana Fiend]. Magic calls to me, but without any way of exercising it I doubt it’d be of any use. [Dexterous Fiend] is also tempting for the passive boost in healing, but it isn’t what I need now. Frankly, [Reais Fiend] makes the most sense. Essence is the life blood of everything in this world—it makes sense to have as much of it as possible.

All choices give a base to esq, what I’m assuming determines a Demon’s worth around here. [Reais Fiend] also provides a reduced cost to how much Essence I’ll need for things like shielding myself from sandstorm attacks, not to mention the extra Agility to escape tight spots. I smile and pick it without another thought.

Growth will be difficult, but not stagnant.

I’m prepared, immortal, and willing to pursue the power I’ll need to achieve my goals. If things continue like this, it won’t be long.

I’ll find the Gods of my world and make them pay.

Aside from the incredulous fact that the targets of my ire are Gods and I’m a lowly Fiend of Reais, there are other more pressing hurdles to jump through. Like answering questions.

Where is my world? Can I return? Who were the Gods that ruled over it? And… who am I?

Some things haven’t changed even with my consumption of the tusked Demon’s blood and my triumph over the Lizardfolk. My [Name] remains bare and the fragmented pieces of my Human past are all I have to go by, not even enough to remember my gender… but somehow enough to remember the agonizing moments living in my godless world. Enough to be certain that whatever Deities sent me to the Wall of Faithless never existed in my world.

Gritting my teeth, I resist the thought that I may be wrong, the ill-thought that my anger and fury are baseless and I was a Faithless muck as a Human. It wouldn’t make sense for me to be wrong—in all my torturous memories I have nothing resembling magic. If there’s no magic, then there aren’t any Gods.

To my feet, I direct the Essence from my front and into my eyes. I lose less of it this way and regain my full sight, albeit tinted red, but I can’t complain if it means I get a sense of where I’m wandering to in this storm.

Hissing as the sting of scalding granules intensifies, I start off again in the direction I’ve been headed to since I started running. But something odd catches my sight.

In the distance, a few paces away, is a mound of sand, a heap unlike any of the other dunes and elevations. Shuffling movement in my periphery alerts me to another and then another.

That makes three… any others?

A cursory look around the desert says no but that gives me little peace.

Have they always been there? Did I pass them when I sat down?

Cautious, I shift toward the single sturdy rock, pressing my back against it once more, and to my shock all three heaps shuffle closer, the sands shifting and pouring over as it moves to cover the space.

There’s something in there. Or maybe the something is the sand heap itself?

Sand Demons? Could there be such a thing? I don’t know, but whatever it is, they’ve crept up on me and are working in tandem with each other.

Should I move again? Shit, of course I should, this storm will eat through me if I don’t.

Staring at the mounds sparks a thought.

With how hot the sand is, it’s a much better blanket from the storm than my naked skin. But how do I burrow through the sand with a Human body?

Questions for another moment. The heaps aren’t content with the simple standoff we have going on and start moving. The sand heap grows tall, falling over the sides of them like a waterfall as my chest pounds and my fists ball up, ready for a confrontation until—

Bursting out of the mounds are large skittering insects, black, red, and green with plenty of chitinous legs scuttling through the sand. The black, long, horned creature with no face other than a chattering mound with a mouth pouring sand and sputtering goop makes it to me first.

With a thrust of its horned head, it catches me off-balance, gnashing a wound into my chest as it knocks me aside.

Howling in pain, I’m given no reprieve as a long green stinger pierces my side. I look up and find my second assailant: countless beady eyes stare back at me as it rubs thin stick-like arms together and sucks on its meal. Me.

The sensation of my blood rushing out of me is not one I appreciate, but the giant insect manages to keep me down. My struggles only bring more pain as its stinger remains embedded in my shoulder.

Before I can begin to consider my options or the dreary thought that this is where my journey ends, the stinger snaps in my shoulder. Again, I don’t bother screaming. Rather, my pained attention is drawn to the red, heavy, beetle-like insect that rammed the bloodsucker off of me.

Scrambling to my feet, woozy from blood loss but awake with a rush of adrenaline, fear, and a burst of hope, I make out the three insects. The deep focus-enhancer sharpening my senses and dulling the pain must be adrenaline, but it doesn’t feel normal.

They all stand on several legs, some thicker than the others, with the green bloodsucker having the thinnest limbs. It looks like a breed between a mosquito and an ant, the broken stinger protruding from its small ant-shaped head and body.

[Inurri]

The long-horned insect poses on all eight legs, posturing against the two and chittering at them. Its wide, black back breaks open with buzzing wings every few seconds as it studies the two.

[Adar]

The red creature worries me the most. With a wide and structured head, it acts as an effective battering ram. The head armor parts and a jaw falls open, releasing steaming liquids to the ground as it breathes from its earlier charge. At first I thought it looked like a beetle, but on closer inspection I find it’s more of a locust-shaped creature with a weird head.

[Tagorria]

Each of these Demons reeks of Essence, a power that calls to me, beckoning me to sink my teeth into each of them, to rip it out and have it for myself. But their Crystals aren’t visible to me—my senses, cravings, are all I can go on.

It’s a relief to see they aren’t working together, but they’re more than simple-minded insects to bother cornering me in the first place. They must think I’m injured enough to leave to the side and decide who gets to fill their stomach.

As raw as the call to battle for their Essence is, I have enough sense to know I’m screwed. Already on my feet, I turn tail and start the first stretch of sprints to escape.

The chittering and buzzing grow louder a second after, and before I know it the [Inurri] lands in front of me, wings buzzing and stinger dripping with steaming saliva.

Alright then… no escape. So how does the prey become the hunter?