The desert stretched like an endless ocean of sand. Night fell, dark and silent, over that sea of dunes. The calm was only broken by the hurried steps and shouts of the bandits chasing their escaped prisoner.

A figure covered with an old blanket ran among the dunes, arms stretched forward, legs trembling from exhaustion. He had managed to lose his captors, but each breath was still a torment. Each step, a challenge. The sand burned his feet, and thirst made him stagger.

Finally, he fell to his knees, coughing and spitting out sand, his body on the verge of collapse. With his last strength, he clenched his fist full of rage, cursing his fate. He licked his dry lips, thinking of the hunger devouring him.

“I just... want to live…”—he whispered with a trembling voice.

At that moment, a golden light emerged from his hands, warm and blinding. It surrounded him completely as his eyelids closed.

Soon a strong wind began to sweep the sand, slowly covering him as that light faded. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness were distant shouts and footsteps, then, silence...