The footsteps of the settlers echoed through the ruined streets, drawing them toward the massive, slumbering Creature. Their movements were slow, hesitant—like they were approaching something sacred, or cursed.
Some stopped a few steps away, staring in silence. Others edged closer, whispering among themselves.
"So this is what it really looks like…" A man ran his fingers over a deep scar along the worm's hide, his voice barely above a breath.
A woman clutched her shawl, her knuckles white. "It took my daughter." The words hung in the air, heavy, unshaken by time.
A bitter laugh broke through the murmurs. "And without it, we'd all be dead." The speaker's voice was sharp, his jaw tight. "The only reason this settlement survived was because of them. The ones we gave up."
Someone spat. "That wasn't survival. That was slaughter. Drugging them, leading them right to its maw—"
"Don't." A man with hollow eyes stepped forward, voice barely a whisper. "I still hear my son's screams."
A younger settler clenched their fists. "So what now? It's just asleep? How long before it wakes up hungry again?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. Then, a voice—low, steady, and filled with something darker than fear.
"Maybe we should kill it."
The words rippled through the crowd. Some flinched. Others nodded.
"Kill it?" An older woman's voice cracked like a whip. "And what happens when the lower ones come? Do you think they stay away because of us?" Her finger jabbed toward the Creature's massive frame. "This is what keeps them back. If it dies, we die."
Tension thickened, a storm on the verge of breaking.
Then Mark stepped forward.
"Enough."
The word cut through the air, sharper than a blade. The settlers stilled, turning toward him.
His gaze swept over them, shoulders squared against the weight of years. "I know what this thing has taken from us," he said, voice steady. "Every one of us has lost someone. Every one of us has bled for this place." He looked at the Creature—at the symbol of everything they had endured. "But fighting each other won't change that."
He turned back to them, his eyes cold with resolve. "We have a plan. A way out. But if we're going to survive, we do this together." His voice hardened. "No more sacrifices. No more waiting for death. We leave—before it wakes up and decides we're not worth keeping anymore."
The crowd stood frozen, the weight of his words sinking in.
Then Mark exhaled and turned to Max.
"What do we do?"
Max didn't hesitate. "We're building a stone cart—big enough to drag the worm through Sandworm Valley."
A ripple of unease moved through the crowd. Some settlers shifted on their feet, exchanging glances.
"A cart? For that thing?" Someone scoffed.
Max didn't acknowledge the doubt. His eyes swept over the group. "How many Stage 3 earth users do we have?"
Mark exhaled, running a hand over his beard. "Twenty-four. They've been keeping this place together—reinforcing structures, patching up the damage after every attack. Without them, we wouldn't be standing."
"Good. We'll need all of them." Max's tone left no room for argument. "They'll shape the ground, keep it stable while we move the worm. If we move fast, we'll be gone before it stirs."
More murmurs. Some hopeful. Others edged with disbelief.
A woman stepped forward, her face weathered by years of grief. "And if it wakes up while we're moving it?" Her voice was steady, but her fingers twisted in the fabric of her sleeves.
Max held her gaze. "We're going to put it back to sleep—with the Nightveil Drought."
Silence stretched between them. Heavy. Unspoken fears pressing against their ribs.
One of the earth users, a broad-shouldered man with sand-crusted arms, flexed his fingers. "We've lived in its shadow for years. Fed it our own." His voice was hoarse, raw. "And now, we carry it like an honored guest?" A bitter laugh scraped from his throat. "Feels like a bad joke."
Mark's glare cut through the space between them. "You have a better idea?"
The man's mouth opened—then shut.
Max's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Once we're past the valley, my brother Max will kill it. But until then, it stays alive—its presence is the only thing keeping the lower ones at bay."
The settlers exchanged glances. Hesitation, doubt, the thin edge of hope.
Mark let them sit in it for a moment before stepping forward. "We've been waiting for salvation that was never coming." His voice carried over the ruins. "This is the only way out. Either we move—or we die here, in the bones of this settlement."
Silence.
Then, one by one, heads dipped. Fists clenched.
Max felt the shift. The slow, inevitable pull of momentum.
He nodded once. "Then let's get to work."
————
The settlers moved through the wreckage like shadows. Their eyes were hollow, faces gaunt with the weight of their grief, their limbs stiff with fatigue. Each step was measured, deliberate, as if the ground beneath them might crack open and swallow them whole.
They gathered what little they could—food, water, broken tools, anything to help them survive the long, desperate journey ahead. The air was thick, oppressive, and the remnants of their once-thriving settlement seemed to collapse further with each passing moment.
Ash's gaze lingered on a man kneeling beside a shattered house. His fingers brushed over the jagged remains of a toy—a simple wooden figure, now splintered. The man's shoulders trembled, once, before he straightened with a stiff resolve. He shoved the broken toy into his pack. A hollow finality hung in the air.
They're leaving everything behind.
Kael stepped up beside him, arms crossed, his face shadowed by his hood. "You think this is gonna work?"
Ash exhaled, his grip tightening around the hilt of his blade. The weight of the situation pressed on his chest. "It has to."
Max moved among them, barking orders, his voice sharp and cutting through the murmur of uncertainty. He organized the settlers into groups, eyes flicking over the faces of those too tired to care, too broken to argue. He moved with purpose, no room for hesitation. The settlers, drawn to him by some faint hope, obeyed, their eyes full of fear—but somewhere deep, a fragile seed of belief took root.
Mark approached, his face carved with years of survival. His voice was steady, but the tension underneath was palpable. "We're ready."
Max's gaze swept over the group, calculating. "Good. Then let's move."
A low groan echoed through the valley, its guttural resonance sending a tremor through the earth.
Ash whipped his head toward the source. "The worm."
It lay unmoving, massive and still, its body sprawled across the ruins, but the sound—it sent a wave of unease through the settlers. A child whimpered, clinging to their mother's side.
Max's jaw tightened. "We're out of time."
Without another word, he strode toward the Creature, his boots kicking up dust. He pulled a small vial from his pouch—Maxveil. The settlers watched in breathless silence as he climbed onto the worm's leathery hide, his boots sinking slightly into its flesh. The worm twitched, a shudder running through its massive form, but it didn't stir.
Max didn't pause. With swift precision, he jammed the vial between the segmented plates, shattering the glass. The dark liquid seeped into the creature's flesh.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then, the worm convulsed.
A bone-rattling screech tore through the air, its massive body arcing, twisting violently. The ground beneath them buckled, a shockwave of dust and debris exploding outward. The settlers staggered back, eyes wide with terror.
Ash's pulse thundered in his ears. 'If this doesn't work—'
Then, as suddenly as it had started, the worm stilled. Its body slumped, the spasms ceasing. A deep, slow breath filled the air, heavy and rhythmic.
Max wiped the sweat from his brow, the tension easing in his shoulders. "Now we know how long it lasts. That should hold it."
Mark stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "For how long?"
Max's expression darkened. "Not long enough."
At his command, the earth users dropped to their knees, hands pressed firmly against the cracked earth. The ground trembled beneath their touch, groaning as the energy surged from their veins. Slowly, the earth began to shift. Stone rose from the depths, wrapping around the worm like a cage. Layers of rock formed, thick and solid, encasing the Creature in a stone cart.
Wheels, large and sturdy, groaned into existence beneath the weight of the creature. The earth users pushed with all their might, their faces scrunched in effort. The stone cart creaked under the strain, but it moved, slowly at first, then with a steady rhythm.
Max stood at the edge, watching. His face was unreadable. "Good. Keep it moving."
The settlers fell into line behind him, the caravan moving like a broken tide. Some pushed the cart, others gathered what little they could, their hands trembling as they worked in silence.
Ash walked beside Kael, his gaze fixed ahead, the weight of what was coming pressing against his chest. The horizon stretched out, barren and endless.
Kael nudged him with his elbow. "You good?"
Ash nodded, but his mind raced. "Let's go."
Max led the way, his steps purposeful, his gaze locked on the far-off horizon. The settlers followed, their movements slow, deliberate, as if each step might be their last.
Behind them, the stone cart groaned, the worm trapped inside, its breathing steady but slow. For now.
Ash didn't look back, but he knew. This wasn't over.
He could feel it in the air—the deep, unsettled hum that lingered, the way the ground seemed to pulse with an unnatural rhythm beneath his boots. It wasn't just the worm that haunted them. This was a place cursed by the endless cycle of destruction and survival. Every step they took felt like a prayer to whatever gods still listened, a fragile hope hanging by a thread.
The worm was only the beginning. They had moved it, for now, but the valley was a graveyard. And whatever came next, Ash knew—this wasn't just the end of their settlement. It was the beginning of something worse.
————
Days passed
The caravan crawling across the desert like a broken snake, its slow, deliberate movement carving a path through the endless sand. The heat pressed down on them, but the weight of exhaustion hung heavier. The air shimmered above the ground, a distorted blur that made the horizon look like a distant mirage.
The Earth Veinflow users moved between the groups, their hands pressed to the ground as they manipulated the earth, shaping solid, firm paths for the cart to roll along. Every few hours, another group would take over, the previous one retreating to rest, their bodies soaked with sweat, their faces drawn with fatigue. They pushed the cart forward, and the Earth users reformed the ground beneath them, creating a smooth path, a small oasis of stability in a desert of shifting sand.
Ash stared into the distance, eyes narrowing. A figure loomed on the edge of the horizon—another worm. Its head, covered in the jagged ridges of its segmented body, watched them from afar. It didn't move, didn't approach. It simply stared, its eyeless head locked on the caravan.
Kael nudged him, his voice low. "Yeah, that still looks kinda creepy."
Ash didn't answer at first, his gaze fixed on the worm. "Yeah, this has been going on for days. I wonder what they're planning."
Kael snorted, a sharp laugh breaking through the tense silence. "Planning? I bet they're just scared to come close."
Ash didn't reply. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that the worms weren't just watching—they were waiting.
Without warning, the massive worm in the cart stirred, its body twisting, shuddering as it began to move. The other worms in the area reacted, burrowing into the earth with terrifying speed, vanishing beneath the sand in an instant. The air grew thick with the sound of grinding earth and the deep hum of the creatures retreating into the depths.
Max, who had been walking ahead, didn't flinch. He reached for his pouch, fingers brushing over the familiar coolness of the vial. His movements were precise, practiced. He pulled it free, aimed for the worm's gaping mouth, and threw.
The vial shattered against the creature's exposed flesh, releasing the dark liquid within. The worm convulsed, its massive form shuddering violently, but within moments, it stilled again, its breath slowing, returning to the shallow, steady rhythm of sleep.
Max exhaled slowly, his jaw set, and turned back to the group. "Let's hurry."
The settlers moved forward once more, the Earth Veinflow users already at work, shaping the ground before them, as the others pushed the cart with quiet determination. The caravan, though weary, moved like clockwork—each step forward an act of defiance against the unrelenting desert.
Ash's gaze drifted to the horizon again, but this time, it wasn't the worms that caught his attention. It was the vast emptiness ahead, stretching endlessly in every direction. They didn't know how long it would take to reach the end of Sandworm Valley—or where they were going at all.
All they knew was that the journey would continue, as it had for days. The destination was a mystery, a vague hope whispered in the wind, but they had no choice. They had to keep moving.
The cart rumbled behind them, the only sound other than the wind whispering across the desert. They couldn't stop now. Not while the worms still stalked the valley, watching, waiting for their next move.