The sky gradually brightened as the night faded. The first hints of light stretched across the horizon. Khael sat quietly on a chair outside the tent, watching the sun start to rise. He waited, looking for any sign of movement, anyone or anything.

The sun climbed higher, stretching long shadows across the ground. But still, nothing. He glanced at the clock inside the tent—it read 9 a.m. But still, no one had come. He eventually got up and stepped back inside. He picked up the telephone and dialed the emergency number, but there was no signal.

Thinking it might be a connection issue, he stepped outside to check the antenna. It looked fine, everything was in place. He went back inside and dialed again, but there was still no response. A wave of confusion settled over him.

It was 11 a.m. by now, the sun directly overhead in a bright, cloudless sky. He ate, waited, and looked out again. Still, nothing.

5 p.m. Nothing.

The sun sank below the horizon leaving only the last traces of light in the sky, a mix of deep reds and oranges. He had always wanted a moment to sit and watch a sunset with no orders and no one calling his name. But he didn’t enjoy it a bit this time. He eventually stood up and returned inside.

He thought maybe they were delayed for some reason—even with the clear sky. He decided to wait until morning.

The next day came, and he was back outside, sitting in the same spot. Hours went by. He ate a little, wandered around, sat quietly for long stretches. Still, there was nothing, no sound, no sign of life.

Then another day, and another. Soon, a week had passed. His food was running low and the land around him held nothing but dust.

As another week dragged on and he ran out of food completely. He had plenty of drinking water, but he knew he couldn’t survive much longer without anything to eat. He started to accept the truth—no one was coming. Either the help was a lie, or they hadn’t made it.

The next day, Khael decided to take matters into his own hands. He packed only only what he needed to keep his load light.

He grabbed the map and walked a short distance from the tent, to where two large stones stood close together. The ground there was slightly raised, forming a small box shape.

He pulled out a watch he’d somehow ended up with. Finn’s watch. He knelt down and places it on the left grave.

“Till we meet again,”

He took one last look at the empty camp. Then he turned and walked away.

He set out with no clear direction, hoping he’d eventually find some trace of civilization. He studied the map, but it didn’t seem to match anything he saw. Where it showed trees, there was only barren ground.

The hours passed. The sun rose higher and beat down on the cracked earth. Every mile looked just like the last, endless and empty. When he looked back, the camp was nowhere in sight. All around him was the same flat land stretching in every direction.

He stopped to drink some water. It soothed his throat but he tried to save as much as possible.

When night finally came, he spread out a cloth, laid down, and looked up at the stars. He knew this wasn’t a journey that could be done in a day. There had to be trees somewhere, even in a desert. He closed his eyes and slept peacefully.

The next morning, he set off again, following the same routine—walk, drink, rest, repeat. Night seemed to come faster, and again he rested under the stars.

Everyday, he kept moving, always hoping to see some sign of life.

On the sixth day, he took his last sip of water. The hunger was almost unbearable. His legs wobbled under him. But he kept moving.

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By the seventh day, his hands began to shake from exhaustion and thirst. He dropped his remaining belongings and kept walking. The world around him remained empty and endless, and with nothing left to do but keep walking.

Day 8 … Day 9 … Day 10 … Day 14 …

Khael was barely alive. His mind had shut down and only raw instinct kept him moving. He took slow, dragging steps until he suddenly stopped. His eyes caught the glint of water far off in the distance. It sparkled under the sun.

He pushed himself forward, walking faster, then broke into a desperate, stumbling run. But the harder he ran, the farther the water seemed to drift away. He stopped and realized it was nothing but a mirage. Too drained to react, he simply turned away and kept moving.

… Day 16 … Day 17 …Day 18 …

Khael crawled toward a small pond surrounded by towering trees. He had no energy left to stand. What he had searched for days was finally within reach. He squeezed out every ounce of strength left in his body and pushed himself forward. Just as his eyes threatened to close, he finally reached the pond.

His head plunged into the cool water, and he drank deeply, gulping down as much as he could. The water wasn’t clean, but he didn’t care. It felt like life itself pouring back into him. He could feel the water flowing throughout his entire body.

He pulled his head back and lay flat on his back. Some fruits hung above him. He had a slight regret, but he didn't know much about fruits or whether they were safe to eat. To get to them, he would need to get up and climb the tree. He raised his arm as if they were just within reach. Then he squeezed his hand.

The tree shuddered. All the branches shook. Leaf’s rained down, followed by a few fruits—one straight for his head.

“Fuck…”

Smack!

It hit his nose and almost broke it. The fruit was bigger and heavier than he expected.

Was it a monkey?

He thought for a second and looked at the fruit lying beside him. He picked it up and took a bite. The sweetness hit his tongue. It was good. He took another bite. Then he grabbed a few more fruits and started moving forward while biting on them.

The jungle thickened with every step he took. Trees closed in tight around him. Shadows stretched longer. The sounds of birds and insects grew louder. Soon he spotted a narrow dirt trail snaking through the trees. He followed it. His heart pounded harder each step. Finally, he saw it.

A road.

“YESSSS!!”

He dropped to his knees on the rough pavement. His shout echoed in the quiet around him. He’d won countless battles but nothing had ever felt as sweet just to see a road. He kissed the ground, then gave it a light pat.

“Ohhh, I missed you so much.”

He spotted a small truck coming down the road. He jumped to his feet and waved both hands in the air. The truck slowed and pulled up in front of him. Inside sat an old man with a beard, a baseball cap, and a faded red checkered shirt. The man looked him over, taking in Khael’s torn, dirty clothes.

“Are you lost, kid?”

Khael gave a brief nod. The elderly man gestured for Khael to enter the passenger seat with his thumb. Khael didn't think twice. He rushed to the opposite side, unlocked the door, and got inside. The elderly man then turned the wheel and moved on.

“Where are you from, kid?” the old man asked.

“Eastlake.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I’m headed that way too.”

Khael turned to him, hopeful. “Are we close to Eastlake?”

The old man laughed, a low, raspy chuckle. “Not exactly. We’re in Briarvale. Eastlake’s a good two days from here.”

“Oh…” Khael slumped back in the seat, his initial excitement fading as he looked out the window at the endless forest stretching by.

The old man watched him for a second. “So, what were you doing way out here, in the middle of nowhere?” he asked.

“Just exploring…”

The old man raised his eyebrows. “Exploring? Well, I’d say you’re brave, kid. Not many trucks come this way—just a handful each week. Most folks avoid this road if they can.”

Khael glanced at him. “How far out are we?”

“If I had to put it in miles, the nearest town’s about five hours by truck. Walking? That’d be two full days, at least. I knew one fool who tried it once, walked the whole way. Couldn’t sit down for a week after that!” He let out a hearty laugh. “Guess that makes you the second craziest one I’ve met.”

As they drove, the old man launched into stories from his life. At first, Khael just nodded politely, only half listening, his mind still tired and foggy. But soon, the man’s tales started getting interesting—wild travels, close calls, strange people he’d met along the way. He listened a little closer.

After a while, Khael found himself laughing, sharing little stories of his own, and swapping jokes with the man as if they’d known each other forever. They talked and laughed.

They stopped at a small filling station. The old man got out while Khael stayed in the truck. Time passed slowly, and as it grew darker, the lights around the station flickered on, casting a soft glow over the area. Still, the old man hadn’t returned, and Khael began to feel the silence settle in.

After a while, he stepped outside and stood next to the truck, staring at the empty road stretching ahead. He turned to look at the building behind him. It felt oddly quiet, almost lifeless. He wondered what the point was of building such a place in the middle of nowhere.

"Who cares? Nobody," he muttered.

He turned back to the building. A strange worry crept into his mind about the old man. It had been ages since he went inside. Khael thought of going in but changed his mind.

Maybe I'm just over thinking...

Then something cold touched his hand from behind.