The desert stretched endlessly in every direction — a sea of gold beneath a lightless sky. Vast dunes rose like mountains, their peaks shifting and sighing under the weight of the hot wind. Though no sun blazed above, the air shimmered with heat. Each grain of sand glittered faintly, reflecting a dull brown light as if the desert itself burned with its own strange flame.
Through this barren wasteland walked the members of the Sanatan Flame Sect, their robes fluttering against the relentless gusts. The journey had long since erased all landmarks; there was nothing but horizon and mirage.
At the head of the group walked Shaurya — calm, unbothered, hands tucked into his pockets. His black sunglasses gleamed, reflecting the golden dunes ahead. A faint grin played on his lips as a translucent system window hovered before him, displaying the map of the Secret Realm.
