"Huh?"
Kael's head snapped around, his eyes scanning the empty street. Shadows stretched between the worn-down buildings, unmoving, undisturbed. His frown deepened.
Max exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Damn… That was close. Too close." He wiped the sweat from his brow. "We almost got torn apart."
Kael scoffed, shaking off the tension. He turned to Ash, crossing his arms. "Tch. I didn't need your help."
Ash met his gaze, voice flat. "Yeah, sure."
He stepped forward, drawn toward the settlement ahead. The silence pressed in—thick, heavy. The wind stirred the sand, dragging it across abandoned stalls and worn stone. The air felt wrong.
Max rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing. "Those sandworms stopped at the edge. No way that was natural. Someone strong must be here."
Kael shot him a look. "Strong? At grandmaster level? That's a stretch."
Max's gaze sharpened. "Then explain it. Those things were all Rank 4. A normal Veinflow user wouldn't scare them off."
Kael had no answer.
Ash barely heard them. His eyes traced the settlement, searching. No movement. No sound. Even with the chaos moments ago, not a single door had creaked open.
Then—a flicker of motion.
A window.
A figure.
A woman.
For a brief second, their eyes met. Then the curtain snapped shut.
Cold pricked the back of Ash's neck.
"Guys," he murmured, his voice low. "Something's wrong."
Kael and Max turned.
Then, they felt it too.
The unnatural stillness. The weight of unseen eyes.
Kael's fingers twitched. "No one's here?"
Ash's gaze stayed on the window. "They are." His voice was steady. "Someone was watching us." He pointed.
Max's eyes darkened. "Something's wrong. Let's find a place to rest, then use their communicator to contact the base."
Kael scoffed, arms crossing. "Help?"
Max's smirk barely reached his eyes. "Oh yeah, forgot to mention… We've got a fourth member."
Ash and Kael exchanged glances.
Max waved a hand. "You'll meet them soon. For now, let's find an inn. A long break sounds perfect."
The words felt thin.
The silence pressed in, heavy and unnatural.
Ash took a step forward, scanning the empty streets. Max and Kael followed, eyes flicking between the buildings, searching.
The settlement loomed around them, carved from the desert itself. The walls, rough and uneven, bore the scars of wind and time. Swirling patterns ran along some of the stone, ancient carvings of beasts with hollow eyes.
Flat rooftops stretched overhead, reinforced slabs stacked thick. Narrow alleys cut through the space between buildings, sinking into shadows even under the desert sun. Some doorways stood open, draped in thick cloth, shifting with the breeze. Others had heavy wooden doors, their surfaces worn smooth by countless hands.
Rectangular windows dotted the stone, some sealed shut, others left bare. A few buildings had wooden balconies, their beams darkened by age. Rusted iron hooks clung to the corners, holding lanterns long shattered by time.
It was a place built to endure. To last.
But not to welcome.
Each time they caught a glimpse of movement—a shifting curtain, a retreating shadow—whoever was there vanished. Doors slammed. Footsteps faded. The town swallowed its people whole.
Ash's grip tightened.
This wasn't fear.
It was something worse.
Kael's fists curled tight. "What the hell is going on? Can't someone just talk to us?"
Max's gaze flicked ahead. "Wait. Someone's there."
Kael didn't hesitate. He bolted forward.
"Kael, wait! Don't hurt anyone!" Max's voice barely reached him.
Too late. Kael grabbed the woman by the wrist. She yelped, pressing a small child tighter against her chest.
"Got you."
She flinched, her whole body trembling. "P-please… I'm sorry… it's not my fault. Forgive me. She's all I have."
Kael's grip loosened. "What?"
Max caught up, placing a firm hand on Kael's shoulder. "Let go."
Kael hesitated before releasing her. She didn't run. Just stood there, shaking, her fingers digging into the child's shoulders as if the world would rip them apart if she let go.
Ash's gaze swept the street. Shadows moved behind curtains. Eyes peeked through cracks in doors.
The whole town was watching.
A chill crept under his skin.
Max forced a smile. "Sorry about that. My brother's an idiot."
The woman didn't react. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. Her knuckles whitened around the child.
Max's smile faded. "Are you okay?"
Her face drained of color. "I'm really sorry."
Then she turned and slipped into the nearest building. The door shut behind her.
Kael let out a slow breath. "That was weird."
"Yeah," Max muttered.
A voice rasped from behind them. "What's weird?"
The three of them spun, muscles tensing.
An old man stood there, hunched over a wooden cane. His face, lined and worn, held a knowing smirk. The way he had appeared—silent, unseen—sent a ripple of unease through them.
Kael took a step back. "The hell?! How did I not see you coming?"
Max's eyes sharpened. "He's good."
The old man let out a low chuckle, voice like dry leaves rustling in the wind. "The name's Marcus, but folks here call me Old Man Mark."
His smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Welcome to Dunehaven."
Max's brow creased. "Dunehaven?"
Ash crossed his arms. "So… you don't know this place?"
Max shook his head. "No. It's not on any map."
The old man gave a slow nod. "That's because no one's been able to leave. You know… the sandworms."
Kael scoffed. "Yeah, no kidding."
Max ran a hand along his jaw, eyes narrowing. "I've got a question."
"Go ahead," the old man said.
"Is there anyone here with a powerful Veinflow? Someone at least above the Master stage?"
The old man shrugged. "Apart from me? Most here are novices or adepts. No masters."
Kael's eyes sharpened. "Then what are you?"
"Expert." The word left the old man's lips without a hint of pride.
Max frowned. "Then why aren't the sandworms attacking this place?"
The old man's face didn't change. "Don't know. It was like this when we found it."
Max opened his mouth to press further, but the old man waved him off.
"You boys look tired. It's almost night. Stay for the night. First meal's free. After that? Nothing's cheap."
Max exhaled, stretching his arms. "Fine by me. My legs are killing me after all that walking."
A smirk tugged at the old man's lips. "Then follow me."
They moved through the empty streets, the silence stretching long between them. Ash kept his eyes locked on the old man's back. There was something wrong. The way he spoke, the way he moved—it felt like they were being led into something.
He leaned toward Max, voice low. "Are you sure we can trust him? He looks way too suspicious."
Max didn't break stride. "Relax. If he tries anything funny, we have Kael."
Ash flicked a glance at Kael.
Kael was digging into his nose with his pinky, then casually flicking it away.
Ash sighed. 'Yeah. Real reassuring.'
The old man led them through the empty streets, the silence pressing down on them like a heavy cloak. The settlement felt abandoned, yet the buildings stood firm, well-maintained, as if waiting for people to return. Eventually, they stopped in front of a stone-built inn, tucked between two larger structures. Unlike the rest of the place, it looked… alive.
The old man pushed open the heavy wooden door. "You boys can stay here for now," he said, stepping aside. "Your food will be brought soon. Get some rest."
Max let out a tired breath, rolling his stiff shoulders. "Thanks, old man. We owe you."
The old man nodded, then turned and shuffled away, his cane tapping softly against the stone.
As they stepped inside, Kael let out a low whistle. "Well, damn. Fancy."
The entire interior looked like something straight out of an old warrior's hall. The walls, smooth and polished, bore deep carvings—battle scenes frozen in stone, warriors clashing with monstrous creatures. The thick rugs underfoot softened their steps, and lanterns overhead cast a warm, golden glow across the room. Despite the eerie stillness outside, the place radiated quiet strength, as if history itself lingered in the air.
Ash's gaze swept across the room. "No way they're letting us stay here for free."
Max flexed his fingers, glancing at his right arm. The new limb still felt unfamiliar. Lighter than his old one, but just as strong. He curled his fingers into a fist, watching how smoothly it moved. "Yeah. We need to pay them back somehow."
He turned to Ash. "You got your watch?"
Ash shook his head. "Left it back at the base. Didn't think I'd need it."
Max exhaled sharply. "Great." He looked at Kael.
Kael stretched, arms behind his head. "Mine got wrecked when I transformed."
Max groaned. "So we're stuck. No money, no food, no clue where we even are."
Ash leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I could try running back to base, but without knowing our exact location, I'd just be running blind."
Max ran a hand through his hair. "We're in the Valley of Sand Worms, that much I know. But beyond that? No idea." His fingers tapped against his bicep. "We should ask the old man if this place has any kind of communication system."
Kael let out a long yawn and threw himself onto the nearest bed. "Yeah, yeah. Wake me when you figure something out."
Max rubbed his temples. "Unbelievable."
Ash stared at Kael, exhaling sharply. 'Yeah… we're screwed.'
A sharp knock at the door cut through the silence.
Kael was on his feet instantly. "Finally, food!" He reached for the door and yanked it open without hesitation.
A woman stood in the doorway, balancing a tray stacked with metal bowls. Her expression was pleasant, her polite smile practiced—too steady, too controlled. "Apologies for the wait," she said smoothly. "We weren't expecting visitors, so we had to prepare something quickly."
She stepped inside, walking with careful precision toward the nearest table, and set the tray down.
The moment she lifted the covers, steam billowed into the air, carrying a deep, savory aroma that filled the room.
Max inhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "That smells incredible."
The woman gave a small chuckle. "I hope it's to your liking."
She turned to leave, but before she could step away, Ash spoke. "Wait."
His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, focused. "How do you grow food out here?"
The question hung in the air.
Max blinked, turning to Ash. He hadn't thought about that. The settlement was surrounded by nothing but sand. The valley was a graveyard for anyone who wandered too far. And those creatures… they made survival nearly impossible.
Kael groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Oh, come on, man. Can you stop treating everyone like criminals? They gave us food. Maybe try being grateful?"
The woman's smile didn't fade, but her posture shifted—just slightly, barely noticeable. "It's no secret," she said smoothly.
She adjusted the tray, fingers brushing the edge. "Old Man Mark is an expert earth user. He shifts the soil so we can farm, and he digs deep enough to find underground water. Without him, none of us would have survived out here."
Max gave a slow nod. "We owe him more than just a thank-you, then."
Kael had already snatched a bowl. "Yeah, yeah. We'll thank him later." He scooped a bite into his mouth. The moment he chewed, his eyes widened. "Holy hell, this is actually good."
The woman inclined her head. "I'll leave you to it." Without another word, she turned and slipped out the door, closing it softly behind her.
Ash didn't move. His fingers hovered over the bowl, his mind turning. Something's off.
His gaze flicked toward the door. For a split second, he swore he saw movement—just outside, a shadow shifting too fast, too deliberate.
His grip on the spoon tightened.
Max nudged him lightly. "Relax. Look—Kael's still breathing. That means it's safe, right?"
Kael shot them a glare mid-chew. "So I'm the test subject now?"
Ash didn't answer. His eyes stayed locked on the door, his thoughts spiraling.
Max smirked, shaking his head. "Man, I thought you'd be the hungriest one here. With how much you rely on speed, you should be starving."
Ash's stomach twisted. The hunger gnawed at him, an ache deep in his gut. He knew his body burned through energy faster than most. Moving at high speeds came at a cost, and the emptiness he felt now was proof of that.
His gaze dropped to the bowl in front of him. The scent filled his lungs, the food looking fresh, rich—too perfect.
'maybe, am just paranoid.' he thought.
He let out a slow breath. "Fine. Just a bite."