The boys waited in silence.

  Even the drone hid away, tucked into a small crevice in the ravine, its light blinking faintly before vanishing completely.

  Then, the rumble came.

  They could feel the sandstorm closing in.

  But they’d hidden themselves well—only a few fragments of the raging sand managed to reach the ravine. The storm was massive, howling for nearly four straight hours.

  By the time it passed, evening had already fallen.

  Exhausted, the boys had fallen asleep beneath layers of demon corpses.

  Toma woke to the sound of his stomach growling.

  “Ah, what’s this… where am I? Mom, is dinner ready?” he mumbled groggily.

  He blinked, and then his eyes shot wide open.

  “DAMN! What the hell is this demon corpse!? Wait—so it wasn’t a dream!? I’m really in the desert!? And I’m using demon corpses as blankets!?”

  Joe stirred beside him, rubbing his eyes.

  “What’s with all the shouting? Who woke me up?”

  “Joe—you’re here too?” Toma asked.

  “Yeah, but why the hell is it so freezing in a desert?”

  “You didn’t know? The temperature difference between day and night here can be thirty to forty degrees Celsius.”

  “That’s insane!”

  “Yeah, no kidding. I’m putting on my sweater. Let’s wake the others.”

  ***

  Not long after, Toma and Joe found Eric half-buried beneath a pile of sand and demon limbs.

  They started slapping him lightly until he groaned awake.

  “Guys? Did we make it? Did we survive?” Eric asked weakly.

  “Of course! But put on your sweatshirt and help us find Peter!” Joe said.

  They began searching among the demon corpses, fumbling through the darkness—

  until Joe suddenly froze.

  “Wait—look! His bag was under this demon corpse!”

  “Then the sand must’ve covered him! Dig with your hands—I’ll guard his bag!” Toma ordered.

  ***

  While Eric and Joe dug frantically, Toma crouched down, unzipped Peter’s backpack… and drank every drop of water left inside.

  “Look! It’s him!” Joe shouted. “He was just covered by the sand!”

  They pulled Peter out and tried to wake him—slapping his face lightly—but he didn’t respond.

  “Alright, give me some water!” Toma said.

  “There’s water in Peter’s bag, isn’t that fine?” Joe asked.

  “I just drank that,” Toma replied flatly.

  “You drank all of poor Peter’s water?” Eric said, glaring.

  “So what? You guys would’ve given up long ago if I hadn’t helped you. This is what I deserve! Now hand me your water.”

  “I just gave mine—now you give yours, Joe!” Eric said.

  “Okay, okay!” Joe muttered, reaching for his bottle.

  Toma splashed Peter in the face with the last of Joe’s water.

  Peter gasped, jerking awake—and immediately spat out a mouthful of sand.

  “Yuck! This is disgusting! I’m covered in sand!”

  “Finally, you’re awake!” Joe said with relief.

  “So now what? It’s freezing here, we have almost no water, and we’re going to starve to death…” Eric muttered.

  “First of all, let’s get out of here,” Toma said firmly. “Cut off some demon arms and climb up the way we did before!”

  And so they did.

  They used the same desperate method as before—driving the demons’ claws deep into the ground, pulling themselves up step by step until they finally reached the surface again.

  “I need to drink something!” Peter panted.

  “Let’s see how much water everyone has left,” said Toma.

  Only Eric had half a liter remaining.

  “This is mine!” Eric said, clutching the bottle tightly.

  “Hey, give us some too!” Peter shot back.

  Eric, Peter, and Joe immediately started arguing, voices rising as exhaustion and thirst got the better of them.

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  While they fought, Toma’s eyes drifted toward the horizon.

  Smoke.

  A thin, wavering column in the distance.

  The boys were so busy bickering that they didn’t even notice when the bottle slipped from Eric’s grip.

  The water splashed into the sand—gone instantly.

  “Nice going!” Peter yelled.

  “Are you kidding me? That was all we had!” Joe shouted.

  Before they could start throwing punches, Toma pointed ahead.

  “Look! Smoke! Someone’s making a fire out there!”

  “Whoa, you’re right!” Joe said, eyes wide.

  “Look! An oasis!” Joe shouted.

  “Finally!” Peter cheered.

  “There’s water and food there!” Eric added, almost running now.

  “Wait,” Toma said sharply. “Don’t rush in. There could be another team there—we might have to fight. Let’s approach slowly and quietly.”

  As they got closer, the warm glow of a campfire came into view.

  A lone boy sat beside it, grilling fish over the flames.

  Without even looking up, he spoke.

  “I can see you. Don’t bother trying to sneak up or attack—I’m stronger than you, and I’ll take you down.”

  Toma smirked. “Not so sure about that.”

  The boy stood up, stepping into the light.

  “Toma?”

  “Arvian? Is that really you, bro?” Toma’s eyes widened.

  The two friends ran toward each other and hugged tightly.

  “Looks like they know each other,” Joe said quietly.

  “Does that mean we’re saved?” Eric asked, half in disbelief.

  “Come on, sit down!” Arvian said, motioning toward the fire.

  “What’s there to eat?” Eric asked eagerly.

  “There are pomegranates, dates, and lemons growing on the trees,” Arvian replied.

  The boys picked what they could and sat down around the fire to eat.

  “These dates don’t taste very good,” Eric complained.

  “That’s because they’re wild dates,” Arvian said casually.

  “And I can only cut the pomegranates open with my sword,” Joe added.

  “Stop complaining!” Toma snapped. “You haven’t eaten all day, and you’re still being picky!?”

  “I’m thirsty—I’ll get some water from the lake,” Peter said, standing up.

  He crouched by the water’s edge and began scooping it into his hands—

  But then something moved.

  A shape burst from beneath the surface, and Peter yelped, losing his balance and falling in.

  “Finally! Here it is!” Arvian shouted, his eyes lighting up.

  He drew his katana and dove straight into the lake after Peter.

  For long minutes, the water churned violently.

  Waves splashed high into the air, and it sounded like Arvian was wrestling a monster beneath the surface.

  Then—finally—Arvian emerged, dragging a massive crocodile carcass behind him.

  Peter surfaced right after, coughing and gasping for air.

  “Is this guy even human?” Joe blurted out, eyes wide.

  “He just fought a crocodile underwater! A real wild animal!” Eric said in disbelief.

  “Nice one, bro!” Toma laughed, grinning ear to ear.

  Arvian and Peter wrung out their soaked clothes and hung them near the fire to dry, while the others began roasting chunks of crocodile meat over the flames.

  “They say the tail has the best meat—but the ribs are tasty too,” Toma said, turning a skewer.

  “I’ve been hunting this beast for a long time,” Arvian admitted. “But I couldn’t catch it.”

  “So you used me as bait?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “Yep. And it worked,” Arvian replied without a hint of shame.

  “How did you even end up here, Arvian?” Toma asked.

  “I walked straight all day until I found this place,” Arvian said. “Five students were already here—turns out they were my classmates. I defeated them, took their weapons and canteens, but only two canteens fit in my backpack. That’s about four liters of water. I’ll give you the rest.”

  “That way everyone gets one!” Eric said.

  “And four liters should last us two days!” Joe added hopefully.

  “Also, I can only carry two katanas, so the rest are here—I’m giving them to you,” Arvian said, nodding toward a pile of weapons near the fire.

  “Didn’t the sandstorm get you?” Eric asked.

  “No. It went in another direction. So I stayed here and decided to camp for the night,” Arvian explained.

  “The meat’s ready! Let’s eat!” Eric shouted eagerly.

  But when they began eating, their expressions were mixed.

  “Not bad… but pretty bland,” Joe said.

  “There’s no salt,” Arvian said, “but squeeze some lemon on it—it’ll taste much better.”

  The others tried it—and their eyes widened.

  “Wow, it really is much better this way!” Joe said.

  “This actually tastes pretty good!” Peter agreed.

  “Weird flavor though,” Toma added. “Like chicken with a fishy aftertaste. But with lemon, it’s edible.”

  “Why are we eating the tail specifically?” Joe asked.

  “Because it’s the most delicious, tender, and valuable part,” Arvian explained.

  “Wow, Arvian, you sure know a lot—you really are a true survivor,” Joe said, impressed.

  “Arvian’s a good cook too,” Toma said with a smile.

  “I’ll roast the ribs next. They’re edible as well,” Arvian said, turning the meat carefully. “At night it’s cold enough here that the food won’t spoil.”

  “I never thought I’d be eating crocodile meat,” Joe muttered.

  “Me neither—and I never wanted to!” Toma said with a laugh. “But it’s actually pretty good.”

  “In our world, there are people who live in regions where eating crocodile meat is normal—like chicken is for us. Its meat’s valuable… and so is its skin,” Arvian explained.

  “You really do know a lot, Arvian,” Peter said.

  “Thanks,” Arvian replied. “But now you guys tell me—how did you meet Toma? And how did you end up here?”

  So, the four of them—Toma, Joe, Eric, and Peter—sat by the campfire and began recounting everything that had happened.

  Their voices carried softly through the night as Arvian roasted the crocodile ribs for breakfast.

  Eventually, one by one, they lay down and drifted off to sleep.

  But at dawn, Toma’s eyes snapped open.

  A strange sound had woken him.

  He turned—and saw Arvian getting ready.

  “Leaving without saying goodbye?” Toma asked, his voice still groggy from sleep.

  Arvian turned, adjusting the strap on his pack.

  “I just didn’t want to wake you up,” he replied.

  Toma stretched and yawned. “Well, sleeping on the ground isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing anyway.”

  He walked over to where Arvian stood, the faint glow of the campfire still flickering between them.

  “The ribs are good,” Arvian said. “Heat them over the fire, squeeze a bit of lemon on top, and eat. But don’t pack any with you—they’ll spoil. Instead, take fruit. That’s what I’m bringing with me too.”

  “Relax, I know,” Toma said, grinning. “That’s what I was planning to do. No need to worry.”

  “Well then,” Arvian continued, tightening his gloves, “I’ve already eaten, packed up, and I’m about to head out—but I still have one more question.”

  “Alright, Arvian, go ahead and ask,” Toma said, crossing his arms.

  “Why did you team up with those four losers?” Arvian asked bluntly. “Even with our help, I don’t think they’ll last long.”

  Toma chuckled. “I was stuck down in the canyon and ran out of water, so I helped them in exchange for some.”

  “You could’ve just defeated them and taken their water,” Arvian said.

  “You’re right,” Toma replied, smirking. “But this way was more fun.”

  “More fun, huh? I see…” Arvian said with a small smile.

  “Alright then, I’ll start a small fire and heat up the meat,” Toma said.

  “And I’ll be off,” Arvian replied, stepping back. “Good luck, bro.”

  “You too!” Toma said.

  They high-fived, a solid smack echoing in the quiet desert air. Then Arvian turned and walked away, disappearing into the morning haze.

  After that, Toma began getting ready himself.

  He sparked up a small fire, warmed a large piece of crocodile rib, drizzled lemon juice over it, and ate until he was full.

  Then he grabbed one of the swords and a canteen that Arvian had left behind, setting aside the remaining three canteens and another katana for his companions.

  He filled both his canteens with cold, clear water from the lake, then turned toward the trees.

  Dates, pomegranates, and a few lemons—that was all the oasis offered. But he gathered plenty, stuffing as much fruit as he could into his backpack alongside the water bottles, then filling his pockets until they bulged.

  When he was done, he stood for a moment, looking around the quiet oasis.

  Then he slung his pack over his shoulder… and set off.

  Before setting off, he used a stick to write a message for his sleeping companions:

  “Goodbye and good luck – Toma.”

  Then Toma set out, parting ways with Eric, Peter, and Joe.

  “This backpack is a bit heavy… four liters of water and all this fruit — maybe too much. Oh well, at least it’s training!” Toma muttered as he shouldered the pack.