The desert stretched endlessly, its sights repeating over and over—white sand, lifeless trees, their structures slightly different each time, but nothing truly changing.
I wandered forward, still naked, without a shred of shame and feeling proud that I can walk naked in this world.
Yet, as I continued, the coldness of the desert began to overwhelm me. The star above—unmoving, unwavering—offered no warmth, only light. And so, I decided to name it **Ateria**.
If I was destined to exist here for eternity, I should at least begin to organize my thoughts.
Days passed, each mirroring the last. My existence fell into a pattern—digging for water, consuming poisonous bark, collapsing from sickness. A cycle of survival and suffering. Yet, despite the torment, it was better than the dark void.
At least here, I could hear the wind. I could feel it—proof that something, however faint, still moved within the Abyss.
But I never expected these thoughts to overwhelm me just seconds later.
In this relentless cycle, I had learned that even the wind isn't always a blessing. A gigantic sandstorm loomed on the horizon, its sheer size unmistakable, yet oddly, it appeared motionless—a silent sign that it was steadily advancing toward me.
I tried to retreat, scanning for any direction to escape its path. In a desperate bid, I sprinted away, but in the vast expanse of the Abyss, it hardly mattered.
For two days, I ran relentlessly, taking only brief moments to rest—eating or drinking nothing. Somehow, my resistance to hunger and thirst grew, pushing me further into this mad, unyielding world.
But my attempt to run was futile. The sandstorm charged at me with unstoppable force—a gigantic, swirling wall of sand that, as it neared, swallowed every detail until I could no longer discern its end. I found myself trapped within its roar, a deafening bang echoing around me as my vision steadily shrank to nothing.
Then, amid the chaos, fear struck anew. In the heart of the storm, I spotted tornados—ferocious, unruly vortices carving their path through the overwhelming surge. Their appearance only deepened my terror within the Abyss.
I tried to run, but the sandstorm caught me off guard. As I struggled, trees struck me while I fell, their branches lashing against my body. Stones I hadn't even noticed began to fly by—one of them, with full force, knocked me out cold, while countless smaller pebbles sliced into my flesh.
Before I completely lost consciousness, disaster struck again. My arm broke, and scratch marks erupted all over my body once again , the torment amplified by the raging storm. The sight of my own bone peeking out was utterly horrifying—each nerve screamed in agony as it was messed up with bone peeking out until I finally passed out.
The sandstorm wreaked havoc on my already battered body. As I slipped into unconsciousness, it carried me along its violent currents. And after what felt like days—or at least that's what I assume—I was eventually thrown out of its grip.
Flying out like a ragdoll and causing pain all over my body. If it weren't for Abyss undying effect, I would have died a long time ago, but I was no longer conscious to even complain about it.
Once again, I was reminded how cruel is Abyss.