No matter how far he walked, he could only see barren land. His throat was parched and his body weak, battered by the sandy breeze hitting his bare legs. The robe he had looted from the corpse barely hung onto his thin frame, giving him not much cover he might as well be walking naked. Slender arms with hints of muscles and old scars, soft breasts rising and falling against his chest, curvy hips swaying as he trudged forward.

He wasn’t equipped for such a harsh environment. Not with the current state of his body. Fatigued and bare, it didn’t matter whether he had a masculine or feminine body; no one would survive in the desert without a drop of water.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Unanswered questions clouded his mind, yet he was pulled towards the horizon looming far away. The desire to escape, to survive, and the unfathomable attraction to a place he couldn’t see. A homing instinct every animal was born with except he couldn’t remember what he was or where he was from. As though he had woken up blind to this world. But he couldn’t give up on surviving.

The metal tag in his hand was the only proof of his identity. A survivor of the hudoqs’ nest, the combat medic who ran away while the soldiers were killed.

At last, his feet gave way and he dropped to his knees, breathing slowly.

If not the monsters, I’ll die of exhaustion.

But I can’t stay still for too long.

I don’t know where those monsters will come from.

And then the stench of rotten flesh hit his nose. Sharp. A sudden shock. The ground trembled and several hudoqs burst through the rocks and dirt, blowing gusts of sandstorm around him. Their giant figures loomed over him like the shadows in the morning sky.

He couldn’t make a sound.

Couldn’t close his eyes.

Couldn’t look away from death.

The grotesque masks of the monsters moved closer, stained red with blood.

He wanted to move, had to move, but his body was past the point of exhaustion. And in this barren land, there was nobody who could help him. He backed away as much as he could until his body hit the side of a large boulder.

Is this the end for me?

Suddenly, a whirlwind struck from above. A man clad in black drove a longsword into the head of the hudoq, sending it into the ground with a loud crash. The man skidded to a halt in front of the monster, a contorted picture of rage on his face. He was yelling, taunting, going up against the monsters with only his sword and then the air around him shifted, thickened, cut through by black and orange energy. Black stripes crawled across his face, framing the wrath burning in his golden eyes. He launched himself straight at the monsters with a roar ripping through the dust.

It was an unfair battle of one against many, but that didn’t stop the man from swinging his sword. The hudoqs jumped at his arm, forcing him to drop his weapon. Dark energy enveloped the man and this time, wrapped around his muscular arms and turned his hands into sharp black claws. Growls escaped between fangs and the man–no, the beast–pounced at the hudoqs as though he was the predator.

On all fours, the man dodged the spewing black matter. He jumped onto a higher ground and kicked off, using the force to drill his blackened claws into the hudoq. The wooden masks shattered, exposing the ivory skull of a snake underneath.

Shrieks thundered.

The man struck the skull, ripping it apart. Blood, gore, and black matter splattered onto him but he didn’t stop. When his claws weren’t enough to tear the hudoq apart, he sunk his teeth into the flesh.

Watching the scene, it was almost as if no one was human, as if this was an exchange between monsters fighting for domination. The man tore apart the hudoqs into pieces without hesitation or fear–a contrast to the soldiers at the cave who could do nothing against the group of hudoqs. But here, this one man destroyed all of the monsters single-handedly. This man killed the monsters without difficulties. This man saved his life.

His saviour.

The epitome of power.

The one-sided massacre ended almost as soon as it started.

Golden eyes glared at him.

For a moment, an uncomfortable silence settled between them as though he was being sized up by a predator. The air shifted. Black energy exploded around the man again and he launched forward, grabbing the sword where it had landed.

The familiar rush of adrenaline burst inside him, cracks ran down his face and the three gemstones rolled open. White threads shot out of his back to catch the sword swinging down at him.

The blade trembled mere inches away from his face, reflecting his own dark eyes.

“Who are you?” a gruff voice more befitting to a wild animal than a human.

Name?

What was his name?

Still focused on restraining the sword, he tried to think back to the moment he woke up, the smell of blood, the screams of pain. But he couldn’t remember who he was or why he was there. All he had was the silver tag gripped tightly in his fist.

Fuxiao
Combat Medic Unit

The metal felt cold against his fingers. In that short distance, the black and white energy swirled around them, mixing like the clouds spreading across the sky. Unlike with the hudoqs, he didn’t feel fear. In fact, it felt… safe.

“...Fuxiao.”

Upon hearing the name, the man hesitated. “That name… are you from Shewei?”

Fuxiao kept quiet. The man’s large, bulky frame blocked the sun, casting dark shadows across his face. Black hair tied back in a high ponytail, a dark cloak hung from his broad shoulders, and a piercing gaze burned in his eyes. Even if Fuxiao could escape, there was no way he could outrun this beast.

After another moment, the man relaxed his sword. And as though their instincts could communicate, the white threads released the weapon.

“Why are you here? Alone and unarmed? Did your group get killed?”

The soldiers he had left behind… there was no way they could have survived the nightmare. He left them to die. He killed them.

Fuxiao paused. And then said, “I think so.”

The man didn’t say anything.

“I don’t remember,” Fuxiao continued. “My memory is hazy. Yes, there were people fighting when I came to, but I can’t remember who they were, why I was there… and where I’m from.”

The silence that fell upon them was mind-numbing. Fuxiao kept his eyes on the man–it was the only thing he could focus on in this wind of uncertainty.

“And you… who are you?” Fuxiao asked.

The man studied him for a few seconds, before saying, “Topan.” The breeze blew a small gust of dirt and dried sticks, welcoming the two of them in the open desert of nothingness.

“You are alone,” Fuxiao commented, “Did your group also get killed?”

Topan shifted, leaning in, bringing their faces closer to each other. His hulking body loomed over Fuxiao’s smaller one and in that short distance, their body heat mingled with the scent of blood. The black stripes on his face accentuated his golden eyes, like shimmering orbs in the crawling darkness. He towered over Fuxiao, an animalistic growl in his throat.

“What are you?” Topan sneered.

“What do you mean?” Fuxiao tried to back away but the heavy air roaring around them sent shivers throughout his body. Adrenaline pumped. His bones shook.

Topan’s large hand reached out and caressed Fuxiao’s cheek. Three pairs of small dark crystals lined underneath almond eyes, a unique marking much like Topan’s black stripes.

“Something strange was calling for me out in the wilds. So it was you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Animals can sense each other. Your Bloodline called for me.” Topan leaned in closer. Their energy twisted around them. Black and white interlaced, dancing to a cacophony of silence. “You may not have memories, you may not know what you are, but Bloodlines don’t lie.”

“Bloodline?” Fuxiao breathed out. Being so close to Topan, he could almost taste their energy. He gazed deep into Topan’s golden eyes and found nothing but emptiness, a deep sea of raw emotions seeking only to survive in the jungle of madness.

Topan grabbed Fuxiao by the chin and tilted his face up. “I’ve never seen a Bloodline with these marks. What are you?”

“I don’t know.” Fuxiao gasped.

Topan grunted, “Will I find out if I eat you?”

Fuxiao held his breath. His body tensed up. His Blood crawled under his skin.

“You’re human. I don’t eat humans.” Topan chuckled and released Fuxiao. Their energies dissipated and his stripes hid away into the shadows. He stood back up, turning his gaze out to the desert hills. Rolls of sand dunes flooded the landscape, obscuring the horizons. No signs of civilizations.

Fuxiao gripped his silver tag. The cool metal was the only evidence of his lost memories. He couldn’t leave it behind like he did with the soldiers.

The pairs of eyes and cracks disappeared from his face but he kept his sharp gaze at the beast before him. His saviour.

“Why did you save me?”

Topan was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Your scent. We’re similar.”