The monster looked like a giant vulture. It had lusterless black feathers and appeared incredibly thin, as if it had been starving for a long time. As the Scavenger landed, it raised a wall of wind around itself, making the sand rise into the air and obstructing the young boy's view of the scene.
The boy, meanwhile, was completely struck by terror. He couldn't even begin to imagine how strong the Scavenger was. But he knew one thing: if he dared to do something as simple as standing up, he would definitely die.
He wanted to do something. He had to do something. He couldn't just sit still and watch people die again.
Against all his instincts, the boy slowly started to stand, his heart beating wildly. It felt like it would jump out of his chest at any second. He could almost feel sweat on his face, even though the concept of sweat didn't seem to exist in this harrowing place.
The terrified boy took one small step, then another, and then another. Soon, he was slowly walking toward the Scavenger, keeping his head down, hoping it wouldn't notice him. But it didn't really matter—he was the only thing moving among the large dunes of sand. If the monster could feel just how scared he was, it would most definitely laugh at him… and then eat him. Or perhaps it would be nice enough to spare him.
The boy almost wanted to laugh at himself for having these thoughts in such a situation, but he didn't, he kept up his composure, or whatever was left of it. He didn't stop, he kept walking. He had to prove himself, had to affirm his belief that he was still a hero. He didn't want to let go of the only thing that made him him.
As he slowly approached, the cloud of sand began to disperse, revealing more of the giant bird-like figure. Another wave of dread swept across the boy's body, making him shiver.
'How could something be this scary? This has to be at least a category 4 beast. There's no way I can face something like that!' he thought, feeling his body turn cold even through the incredible heat.
But he still didn't stop. He still wished to somehow save those people. So, he kept walking.
He looked ahead, toward the hidden figure of the beast, when he noticed something. Through the swiftly dispersing veil of sand, he saw two shiny gray gems staring at him. The Scavenger's deathly gaze felt as if it were piercing his soul—as if the beast was saying:
"You're next."
The boy immediately fell into the sand. He wanted to turn around and run as fast as possible, but he couldn't take his eyes off the monster. He felt that if he did, it would immediately appear behind him and he'd die a helpless death.
The beast had already looked away, searching the sands for the source of those loud screams.
The boy held his breath, not even knowing why. It was as if by instinct. He never stopped watching the moving Scavenger. Slowly, he tried to get away, hoping to go unnoticed until he was at least far enough to turn and start running toward the mountains.
The young boy watched as the monstrous bird rummaged through the ruins of what used to be his neighborhood, searching for its prey. The Scavenger crushed what remained of walls and roofs, eventually finding three people. It almost looked to be grinning in a weird and twisted way.
The boy wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He had failed… again.
He was a self-proclaimed hero, yet he couldn't seem to save anything or anyone. Instead of helping, he was afraid and wanted to run away.
'That's not what a hero would've done. Am I even capable of being a hero? How… what was I supposed to do?' he thought, watching in horror as the Scavenger picked up all three of the lost humans with its massive beak.
There seemed to be teeth inside the maw of the hellish Scavenger. It then closed its beak, and with a loud crunch, crushed the bones of every person at once.
The young boy remembered his mom's body being crushed in the maws of another beast all that time ago… or had it happened recently? He was still confused by the time he'd spent drifting in that dark void.
With the images of his mom's death came the emotions, which had been suppressed by a mental block—unconsciously set up by the boy himself. It all came crashing into him like a dam breaking. He wanted to turn back time, to save his mom, to be given just one more chance.
But reality was cruel.
He didn't have time to be in shock. He had to survive. Only then could he honor his mom and her wishes. Only then would he be able to protect his last living family—his sister.
The boy got up, tears streaming down his face, which had twisted into an ugly mess of mixed expressions from all that he was feeling. He turned around and started sprinting toward the mountains, no longer caring what the Scavenger was doing.
The beast, meanwhile, looked toward the boy. It tilted its head, as if confused by the boy's actions.
No, it wasn't confused.
It was amused.
It twisted its face into a deformed grin once again, its sharp, bloodied teeth showing in a cursed smile. The Scavenger took off. Immediately, another gust of wind raised sand into the air. Only this time, it didn't cover the black beast. With a flap of its obsidian wings, it flew toward the boy at incredible speed.
The boy could feel the Scavenger's killing intent. It was still hungry, and he was its only source of food.
The beast opened its wings to slow down, right above the running boy. Its talons extended—sharp, gleaming, hungry. It was ready to snatch him away.
But then…
Silence.
Not the quiet of relief.
A silence so heavy it shattered reality.
In that single heartbeat, something primal gripped the boy's chest—a fear so complete it felt as if the world itself had died. The pressure, the presence, the monstrous weight behind him—it vanished. Gone. Without warning, without sound.
His legs kept moving, but his mind stopped.
And in that moment of void, the voices in his head exploded—accusations, doubts, pain, grief. A tidal wave of chaos, crescendoing into one word, louder than anything he'd ever heard:
"Death."
His foot caught on nothing. His body gave in.
He collapsed face-first into the sand.
Everything shut down. The voices, the panic, even the air in his lungs. He lay still for that single heartbeat, like a corpse left in the dunes.
Then, with a sudden gasp, he scrambled to his feet. He spun around, expecting claws or a beak or those glowing gray eyes.
But there was nothing.
The Scavenger was gone.
Not even a gust of wind remained. The pressure that had weighed down on him like a collapsing sky had lifted. The silence was no longer oppressive—just empty.
The voices quieted, still loud, but no longer deafening.
He stood there, panting, chest heaving, staring at the untouched sky.
As if it had never been there.
A cold sweat trickled down his spine.
How could something that big and loud disappear without a trace? he thought.
Not wishing to find out, he turned back around and kept running.
He wasn't just running to survive anymore.
He was running to escape the shame. The helplessness. The void where his strength was supposed to be.
He was running to escape himself.
Far away in the air, a draconic monster with enormous wings—decorated with multiple sharp claws and looking like a statue carved of pure stone—was carrying the disfigured body of a large obsidian vulture. The beast flew in a direction opposite to the mountain range, its figure slowly dissolving into the distant horizon of the never-ending desert.