Chapter 4 — Bones Beneath the Sun
Lucien forced himself back onto his feet, limbs stiff and aching as though made of stone.
He didn't want to keep walking.
But what else could he do?
There was nothing but the endless desert stretching in every direction—
a cruel, barren ocean of heat and dust with no shore in sight.
His throat burned, dry and raw.
His legs trembled with exhaustion.
Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass.
Still, he moved forward.
The sun was a merciless overseer, glaring down with no hint of mercy or compassion.
Hour after hour, step after slow step, he walked.
His thoughts spun like a storm inside his head.
Why am I here?
What is this place?
How do I get out?
He had no answers.
Only questions, and a growing ache in his chest that was part fear, part hopelessness.
As he trudged through the cracked earth, something strange caught his eye.
A shape, half-buried in the sand, dark and unnatural against the glaring white.
He stopped.
Heart thumping in sudden alertness.
Slowly, hesitantly, he stepped closer.
What he found made his breath catch.
A pile of bones.
Human bones.
Some bleached white by the sun, others cracked and crushed, broken into jagged fragments.
They lay scattered in a ragged heap, half-swallowed by the desert sands, as if the earth itself wanted to forget them.
Lucien's stomach twisted.
His legs wobbled like jelly.
He sank to his knees beside the bones, trembling.
His eyes roamed the pile, trying to make sense of what it meant.
Who were they?
How did they die here?
How long ago?
A sudden wave of dread washed over him — not just for these lost souls, but for himself.
Is this my fate?
Am I next?
His mind reeled with thoughts too heavy for a thirteen-year-old boy.
He reached out a shaking hand and touched a cracked skull.
The surface was rough and brittle, like weathered stone.
For a moment, he imagined the person who once lived here.
Someone who laughed, dreamed, hoped.
Someone who probably never thought their life would end in this merciless desert.
Tears sprang to Lucien's eyes, blurring the harsh sunlight.
He wanted to scream, to cry, to beg the sky for mercy.
But all that came out was a choked whisper.
"I don't want to die here."
His voice broke, swallowed by the empty wind.
A mixture of fear and anger surged inside him
anger at the cruel world that had thrown him into this nightmare.
Fear of what waited ahead, and fear of himself.
Can I survive this?
He looked back across the endless sands, the horizon shimmering with heat haze, and felt utterly small.
Yet beneath the fear, something flickered — a stubborn spark of will.
He couldn't give up. Not yet.
Not when so many had fallen before him.n
Lucien slowly rose to his feet, shoulders heavy but unbowed.
He took one last look at the bones — silent reminders of lives lost to this cruel place.
Then he turned and kept walking.
Step by step, into the unforgiving sun.