Hours passed as Nora was dragged forward, tied up alongside the blue-haired boy, who had finally introduced himself as Bluey.
Time blurred in the desert. The sun crept across the sky at a pace that felt both slow and merciless, its heat pressing down on her shoulders, her back, her skull. Every step sent a fresh wave of pain through her body. Her wrists burned where the rope rubbed raw against her skin, and her arms ached from being pulled forward without rest.
Bluey walked beside her, his hands bound just like hers, his posture stiff but controlled. He didn't complain. That, somehow, annoyed her more than if he had.
He had explained, in broken pieces during the march, that the sand-like creatures were called Sand Walkers, and that there was no point fighting them. They were unbeatable and unkillable.
Two Sand Walkers escorted them, one for Nora and one for Bluey, each pulling them along by rope. The creatures didn't speak, it was like they were mute or are not allowed to, and their glowing eyes stayed forward, their grips firm, as if they were nothing more than tools executing a command.
They were deep in the desert now, far from Nora's town.
The familiar landmarks were gone. No crooked trees. No distant rooftops. Just endless sand stretching in every direction, broken only by heat waves that shimmered like mirages. The wind carried fine grains that clung to her skin and lips, drying her throat until swallowing hurt.
"Where do you think they're taking us, Bluey?" Nora asked.
Her voice came out hoarse, scraped raw by thirst and exhaustion. Her bare feet were sore, blistered and red, the heat of the sand burning beneath her with every step. Each time she lifted her foot, it felt heavier than the last.
"Probably their base," Bluey replied. "They're taking us to their boss for judgment."
"Judge what?"
"I said judgment," Bluey snapped. "Is something wrong with your hearing?"
The Sand Walker holding his rope yanked harder, forcing him to stumble forward and pick up his pace. Bluey clenched his jaw but said nothing more.
Nora scowled at the insult.
But the truth was, she hadn't heard him clearly the first time. Sand was still stuck in her ear from the storm. She tilted her head to the side, shaking it until grains spilled out and fell down her neck, even as she was dragged forward.
"You know," she said after a moment, "I was already judged and got a death sentence."
She laughed weakly, the sound dry and humorless.
"That honestly sounds easier than being tied up like a slave about to be sold."
"We're not getting sold," Bluey said flatly. "We're getting killed once we reach their base."
Nora's steps faltered for half a second.
"We're criminals, and death is the punishment."
He didn't look at her as he spoke. His eyes stayed forward, fixed on the horizon as if he were watching something only he could see.
He continued before she could interrupt.
"And if you're wondering what our crime is... murder. We killed people. The first rule of being a transmigrator is never to take another life. The moment you made your first kill, they were coming for you."
His voice dropped.
"And for me."
Bluey exhaled sharply.
"I thought if I swooped in before they arrived, I could save the day. But you didn't exactly want to be saved."
"With everything you're saying," Nora replied, "first, I don't understand any of it."
Her head throbbed, overloaded with information that refused to make sense.
"Second, you should've just let me die. One clean beheading and by now I'd be waking up in someone else's body."
For a second, there was silence.
Then Bluey burst out laughing.
The sound was sudden and loud, cutting through the desert air so sharply that Nora flinched. It wasn't polite laughter. It was raw, incredulous, almost hysterical.
"You really think it's that easy to jump into a new body, huh?" he said between breaths. "Trust me, lady—you're not the first to try something like that."
His laughter faded, leaving something heavier behind it.
The two Sand Walkers suddenly came to a halt.
The abrupt stop nearly sent Nora stumbling forward. The rope went taut, biting into her wrists. Both creatures turned toward Nora and Bluey at the same time.
Each raised a finger to where their mouths would be.
A clear command. Be quiet.
Nora shut her mouth instantly. Bluey did the same. Neither of them dared move, barely even breathed. The desert fell eerily silent, as if the world itself were listening.
After a long moment, the Sand Walkers turned back around and resumed walking, dragging them forward once more.
Night fell before they finally reached a place deep in the desert.
The temperature dropped fast, the heat of the day vanishing as if it had never existed. The sky darkened into deep blues and purples, stars pricking through the darkness one by one.
A small hut came into view.
It was made of mud, crudely shaped, its walls uneven and cracked. It looked fragile, temporary, like something that could collapse with a strong enough kick.
Inside, the space was brightly lit by small floating orbs that hovered near the ceiling. Their glow was steady and white, casting soft shadows along the walls.
There were others already tied up inside.
About five people.
One wore a fine suit, dirtied but still unmistakably expensive. Another was clad in armor, the metal scratched and dented... clearly a knight. Another was dressed in clothing that looked almost Stone Age, rough hides tied together with twine.
From their appearances alone, it was obvious they came from different places.
Nora and Bluey were pushed inside. The Sand Walkers cut their ropes from the escorts but left their wrists bound, then turned and exited, closing the door behind them with a dull thud.
"So this is the base?" Nora asked.
She waved her tied-up hands slightly toward the boy beside her, testing the ropes. Her wrists screamed in protest.
She was the only girl in the room.
Her gaze drifted to the others, stopping on the smallest figure among them. The boy looked like the youngest, maybe six years old. He had messy brown hair and a pale face, his knees pulled up to his chest.
Something about him felt familiar, he reminded him of her past.
"No," Bluey said. "This isn't the base."
He scanned the room, eyes sharp now, calculating.
"They probably have another target before taking us there. That means we still have time to escape."
Hope sparked weakly in Nora's chest.
Bluey glanced down at the ropes binding his wrists and started working at them, twisting his hands, testing for slack.
"Okay, Bluey," Nora said, "don't you think it's time you explain what's actually going on?"
"What do you mean?" he replied without looking up. "We're in a mud hut, waiting to be taken to the base for judgment."
"Yes, you said that already," Nora snapped. "But the judgment thing....and the transmigration."
"Oh, that," Bluey said casually.
His tone annoyed her more than the words.
"When we die in our previous lives, some of us are given a second awakening in another world, called a realm. We wake up in a new body and are supposed to live a good life, blah blah blah."
He tugged harder at the rope.
"But if you kill someone in that life, the ones who gave you the second awakening arrest you, and kill you for good."
He sighed as he finally gave up on the rope, shoulders slumping slightly.
"What's the difference?" Nora asked. "I was about to be killed anyway."
"Oh, you mean the man with the axe?" Bluey said. "He couldn't kill you. It's impossible."
"I still don't understand."
"That's because when we get a second awakening, we're gifted immortality," a deep voice said from behind them.
Nora froze.
"Some of us are indestructible. Others regenerate."
Nora and Bluey turned to see the armored man... the knight adjusting his posture as he spoke. His movements were stiff, controlled, as if discipline were carved into his bones.
"Who are you?" Nora asked.
"I am Sir Klinton of Greyhouse, from the Realm of Elemetros," he said proudly, lifting his chin despite the ropes binding him.
"Eleme-what now?" Nora muttered.
She couldn't help it.
The absurdity of it all finally broke through.
She burst into loud laughter.
The sound echoed through the hut, bouncing off the mud walls, sharp and uncontrollable. Her shoulders shook as she laughed, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes... not from humor alone, but from exhaustion, disbelief, and the sheer madness of it all.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
One of the Sand Walkers entered.
Its glowing white eyes locked onto her.
Before Nora could react, the creature moved. Sand surged upward, solidifying into a grip that wrapped around her torso. She was lifted off the ground effortlessly, her feet dangling uselessly in the air.
Her laughter died instantly.