Stepping into the tempest of the maelstrom, my gaze takes in the disheartening chaos that unfolds before me. My vision stretches a mere few dozen feet into the relentless red sands, tainted by the unmistakable hue of blood. Any further is hidden from both my eyes and ears, the crackling impacts of endless granules too much to see or hear through. My skin prickles with unease as I recall that these deafening winds of sand are, in actuality, an amalgamation of countless tiny insects bound together, a nightmarish swarm that hungers for flesh.

My first footprint left in the sand vanishes before I even land my next from the savage winds, ravenous and unrelenting. They assail me with ferocity, leaving painful welts on my exposed skin and attaching clumps of sand onto my body. Each bit that sticks to me makes my heart skip a beat in concern that they will attack me, but for now, Blodwyn keeps us all unseen by them.

Every step I take seems to be met with resistance as the sand beneath my feet constricts like a living, malevolent entity because it is. Every second is made of uncomfortable worry and caution as I inspect my surroundings.

The most unnerving aspect of this sandstorm is the perpetual crimson shroud that drapes the sky. The sun hides from me, only fragments of its marvel breaching through and echoing through the sands in such a way that it's impossible to tell whether the light is false or true. In the remains of Blackreach, the boundary between day and night is obliterated by the Wasteland. The once-trusted wristwatch that I've had since before my first Sigil, now shattered, stabs me in the heart by leaving me disoriented and robbed of any semblance of time.

I spin around, finding the sheer face of the plateau that leads up to Gravecross, and beneath its mass, I feel almost helpless. The Grand Plateau is nearly a mile tall. And I have to climb it all if I want to go up—with a man on my back.

Is that possible for me?

Staring up at the insurmountable cliff that I can hardly see twice my height up at once, I feel useless. Virgil's dying, and I have such an obstacle in my way.

But what else can I do other than climb the damn cliff face? Do I say fuck it and haul ass for Lawless Lake?

I lift my thumb to my mouth and gnaw on the nail as I'm left indecisive, something that I grew out of when I was younger. Based on my memories, I believe Aniwye beat it out of me but hid the memory. Not a good time to unpack that. Fuck. If only Virgil were awake. He'd know what to do. Though... I suppose it's about time I start making my own calls. I'm always doing what others say, going where they want, and fighting who they call for.

I'm not that against it, of course, as most of the enemies are those I want dead anyway. But... I can still recognize that it's limiting. The only other time I've been alone or in charge was before I had the power and experience that I do now.

Yet... why did I have to be given this responsibility the first time I was given the point? Virgil's life is too much to have weight on my shoulders right now.

But as my father says, some shoulders are heavier than others.

There is no point in complaining. Action is the only thing that will help.

And I'm not alone. Lily is here, even if she can't talk, and Blodwyn is putting in all his effort to keep us hidden while unrewarded. I need to keep him happy.

"The next break we get, I'll let you devour one of Virgil's daggers."

I make the decision, one that I may or may not come to regret, for the good of our relationship. I can always get Virgil another Claymore, but Blodwyn is far more volatile. He won't understand like Virgil will. The eldest Boone will, at most, sigh with remorse at the lost weapon. I don't know if I've ever seen him get angry before, like genuinely angry other than Vernon's death. Even then, it was more sadness than rage.

Nevertheless, Blodwyn returns an enthusiastic grunt, so I nod to myself. Good.

Now, I must make another choice. Up the cliff or south toward Lawless Lake? Were it before the sandstorm was here by Vincent's doing, I'd choose the cliff. Alone without any impediments, I could likely climb it in one go with few issues. But... I have no clue what's up there. The Bloodstained Whirlwind could be waiting for me.

Lily almost has a bullet back from all the dead Angels, but she's not quite there yet. Up the cliff is risky, not necessarily even fast, and undoubtedly arduous. Southbound until Lawless Lake, however, presents a different series of issues.

The winds here, at the wall of the cliff, slap my flesh like powerful punches and kicks. I can only imagine what it will be like plunging further into the storm. I almost need Chainlink Boots to stand on the dune right now.

And that's all not even mentioning the plethora of monsters I'm almost guaranteed to meet. How much will I have to fight through to reach Lawless Lake?

And is Lawless Lake even still a lake? I know Eli said it would be safe, but how could he be sure? What prevents the insects from Vincent from taking it over? Can I actually make it to the lake before Virgil dies, or we're caught by the storm?

Too many unknowns with both plans. I hate them both, but I don't have any other option.

Climbing the cliff is the fastest way to reunite with everyone else, but if I mess up and fall again, Virgil's dead. There is no way I survive another fall like that and still manage to help his recovery afterward.

So what do I do?

The risk-taker in me wants to scale the cliff and fight that Angelic monster, but I know better. Upon the rocks above, I will have no way to help Virgil—to ensure he's not dying inside. Forging my own path south, however...

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I can take refuge within other caves if I follow the cliff southward, or worst case, make my own.

No matter what I do, I'm taking a massive risk. If I head south, though, I'm risking returning back to everyone else and my own life and Virgil's equally. Going up that cliff...

Something just rubs me wrong—and I've learned to trust my gut instincts. They're rarely wrong.

And so, I place my left hand against the cliff wall and let Blodwyn run along the rough, sandy stone as we embark southbound. My right hand still has the spear tied intricately to act like a weapon, and I hold it ready for anything as I walk.

Determination practically becomes my compass as I set my course toward the elusive southern horizon. The further I walk, the more scratched up my hand becomes, but I don't want to step any distance away from the rock wall. Random spikes of particularly nasty winds make it impossible to even see my nose or sense anything around me due to the calamitous sounds. So, I take the bruised and bleeding palm as a sacrifice that must be taken.

Each step I take is a negotiation with the unrelenting sands, which seem to harbor an insatiable curiosity, a relentless probing and tugging at my feet. It's as if the very earth beneath me has grown inquisitive, eager to unravel the mystery of my presence. And I know it has. The insects are searching for me, wondering why I move yet how I am not one of them. I don't know how long this trickery from Blodwyn will last, but I hope it's long enough.

Time quickly fades behind the forefront of my mind as I stumble onward. Each pulsating pain that bursts from my wounds gives me the force to continue ahead with Painsforge, part of the reason why Blodwyn didn't heal me entirely. Gradually, I also lose the concept of how far I've traveled as all I see in every direction is either a: rock, b: sand, or c: a man-eating monster that I must avoid, though the third is relatively rare.

The world around me is a desolation of crimson, where time seems to have lost its way, caught in a ceaseless cycle of gloom. I find no solace in the ever-present sky; day and night are mere elusive phantoms.

I don't even know if it's been a day since I left the cave, but I don't think it has. Virgil's body is heating up and cooling down again, so I have to find a place for us to rest to deal with his condition. My eyes peer at the cliff face, but no caves bring themselves to my attention.

Entering that cave from before is still lost in the confines of my memory. Was my head hit that hard? Probably. I wonder what else I forgot? Guess I'll never know.

Without a cave, I simply trudge onward. My wearied body bears the weight of untended wounds, the pain both a strength and a weakening curse. Yet, there is no respite in this relentless desert; any pause invites the lurking horrors born from the red sands. To rest in the open is to risk death.

Out of nowhere, I hear an odd crackle, like that of a distant laugh, and I pause entirely. I twist my head all over, craning it to see anything that may be coming, but I can't find a single sign of life—or death. My heart ramps up in speed, but I force Painsforge to cease. The sound of the organ may give me away.

Not fighting is ideal.

So, I crouch down, careful not to wake or disturb Virgil, and step along the cliff. And despite knowing it will eat through Blodwyn's reserves even faster, I use Stealth to quiet us. Adumbral's Shadowed would be amazing right now, but it only works on me, the wearer. It won't have any effect on Virgil.

The echoes of that chilling, mirthless laughter resound through the air again, carried by the relentless winds of the crimson storm. The sound freezes me in my tracks as I almost trip over myself in surprise. Is it following me? How? No. It can't be.

I crouch even lower, forcing Adrenaline Surge into my veins to increase our speed. The increased blood flow keeps my senses sharp, each nerve tingling with trepidation. The sound seems to taunt me, emanating from the shifting sands themselves, a malevolent specter lurking in the void.

With the cliff face as my steadfast ally, I sidle away from that sinister giggle. It's as though the Wasteland mocks me, amplifying the haunting chorus of laughter, only to scatter it in myriad directions. I don't know where it's coming from, only that it exists. The fact eats at me almost as much as the sand at my feet pulls at me.

The compulsion to flee intensifies as another round of giggling taps into my ear; it's clear that I am being pursued. Why else would that eerie laughter continue to hound my every step? I need to go even faster.

My heart races as I quicken my pace, the urgency to seek refuge growing with every second. I cast anxious glances over my shoulder, my eyes straining to pierce the ever-present curtain of red. Yet, even with a Temper that focuses entirely on bolstering my sight, I discover nothing other than swirling winds. Shaking my head, I upgrade Adrenaline Surge to Breakneck. The Ether streams through my body as I can feel Blodwyn struggle to hold it all down for this long.

I send it a quick apology before darting along the wall away from the sounds. I cover a great distance in only a few moments, allowing me to uncover a possible place of safety. As the noises are seemingly getting closer despite my speed, I take my chance, falling to my knees as I inspect it.

The cave is a thin crevice with unknown depth, barely wide enough for me to crawl through. Taking the spear off my hand and Virgil off my back, I start to get us in it. My heart races as I drag my unconscious friend, his body an unpleasant burden, into this confined space. Sharp rocks graze my flesh and tear at my already battered Adumbral. If I don't fix it up soon, the thing might not even be wearable anymore. But that's a worry for later.

My heart drops as I realize that the cave isn't just thin. It's short, barely longer than two of me. My feet don't stick out, but if someone were to look in, they'd certainly see them. And... the difficulty of getting out of here is a no-brainer. The tight squeeze in the cave amplifies the desperation that claws at my chest. My core thunders in my chest as I endeavor to calm it while holding onto Virgil.

I know not how close the creature is, but the laughter persists, an eerie sign of enmity that echoes into the crevice we lie in. The cave's confining walls offer no respite; they seem to close in around us. My world narrows to this stifling, inescapable trap. If that thing finds us right now, we're dead. So so so so so so fucking dead. I fucked up.

I fucked up bad.

Desperation surges and adrenaline tightens its grip. Unlike others, I don't freeze up, but I only grow more energetic—an energy that I must dampen or risk being found with. So, I stifle my breath, careful of the hunter that stalks us. The rhythm of its footsteps appearing on the sand outside has my heart rise even further, deliberate and unhurried like a predator savoring the anticipation of the hunt.

Clenching my teeth, I have to physically force Painsforge from beating. The sound will kill me.

I press my back against the cave's rocky wall as I angle my neck to see out the slim tunnel. Virgil remains unconscious, an added weight to my load. I dare not awaken him, not in this stifling darkness. He could easily escape this tight situation if he could use Ether. In his state, however, grabbing Ether on his own will end him in a moment.

So, I can only lie quiet as the laughter inches closer, taunting and malevolent, echoing within the cave and beyond. The pair of footsteps reach just outside my crevice, a pair of... nothing shown to my eyes?

What? I swear I just heard the boot land outside the crevice. What? Where is it? Why can't I see it?

I remain silent for several moments, hoping that I'm crazy or imagining this whole thing, but I'm quickly proven wrong. A lecherous voice rubs the inside of my ears as if right beside me. The tone is both a threat and a warning, yet playful at the same time.

"Strike one. Three strikes, and you're out. Get running, birdie. I don't like killing the Sigiless."

Then, an instant later, I hear nothing. The omnipresent sense of being watched is gone, leaving Virgil and I alone.

I don't know why it left us alive, but a sigh of relief seethes out my teeth as I sink into the cave. Its words must mean something, though.

Does it not know I'm a Sigiled? Wait... if it's not surprised by my not being a Sigiled, then are those without Ether left alone by the sands? They might be, but just the winds alone would kill any Unsigiled within them. I can't see a normal human withstand the striking sands, even if they aren't actively devouring them. Blodwyn's Power is even better than I thought, though. It goes beyond just hiding Ether. It hides the fact we even possess Sigils.

I smile a tad before recalling the other phrase it left.

Two more chances. If it finds me two more times, I suppose I'm dead? That doesn't sound all that good. My teeth rub against each other before Blodwyn follows my question brimming at the forefront of my mind.

The pinky from my left hand detaches, transforming into a film of flesh that covers the tiny entrance. Then, we begin to empty out the cave of whatever sand manages to fall inside, which is quite a lot. The cleaning takes almost an hour. And only once we're in the clear does Blodwyn release his Power, leaving us without its protection.

But he has to rest. And as he does so, I delve once more back into Insight, treating Virgil's wounds. The agony of doing so has long become something I'm acquainted with.

That doesn't mean I like it, though. It doesn't matter how I feel about it.

He'd do it for me.

So, I gradually bring strand after strand of Ether through his body, collecting all the infiltrated pieces of Ether to cleanse him. As usual, progress is slow due to the crippling pain that makes me rest after each strand, alongside just how much Ether I need to retrieve.

But before I collapse, I manage to clear his skull of Ether. If I'm lucky, that means he'll wake up soon. In the worst case, I might have to continue until I purify his core.