(???) Son of Joseph, husband of bird or war.

  He couldn’t open his eyes.

  As if someone had blindfolded him, the warm water that flowed through his clothes continued to freeze his body still. Unable to hear the crackle of thunder from above, the young man tried to open his mouth, but even his throat couldn’t muster a simple groan.

  As if someone had taken that too.

  (???) Man who spreads kindness, peace, and hope; yet holds illusionary sins for oneself, hear my call.

  A voice so unfamiliar, he tried to push his body out of the water, but couldn’t. His fingers were the only body parts that succumbed to his wishes, his lungs and heart fastened under the majestic voice that softened his soul and spirit.

  Yet trickled sweat from his skin.

  (???) Be not afraid for who I am, but be afraid for what may come to you.

  The sluggish water that molested every part of his clothing soon began to fade.

  Unable to draw breath in or out from his now faded mouth, nothingness has begun its reclamation, holding Luke like a tranquilized doll. Wanting to widen his eyes, wanting to clatter his teeth, he couldn’t do so as he couldn’t show fear.

  Because those faded away with nothing too.

  (???) Don’t fear, hone it. Stand unshaken. Do not let your kindness be mistaken for weakness.

  His vision became undone.

  Not seeing the cloudy sky that blocked the moonlight above, he saw something, the glow of a white light piercing the air.

  The muddy water being replaced by nothing, it was as if he was sucked into an imaginary place in time that bent physics, bent reality. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly open to let his lower jaw drop, he saw…

  (???) Because those who harness power, are ones that fear mine.

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  His entire upper body jolted out from—

  The thousands of grains of sand.

  Flowing out from the insides of his jacket, it molested every skin and pore outside of his body, pinching and drying his skin relentlessly. Some of the sand seeping into his ear holes, he raised both of his hands to his ears, sticking his pointer fingers inside them to get out whatever sand that called it home.

  Evicting them, he glanced around the world that lay bare with sand.

  Sand being seen as far as the eye can see, the hot wind blew against his smooth pale face, swaying his right side bang that went along with it. Both of his palms sinking deep into it, he relentlessly glanced back and forth from one direction to the next, until he looked in back of him.

  (Luke) What…

  A man in his 50s or 60s, dressed in all black, stood right in front of him.

  Wearing a facial mask to cover his face, the burning sand didn’t stand a chance of striking the old man’s cheeks. Strands of it blowing onto his face, the old man had both of his hands to his sides, his hands wrinkled and rough with blisters hardening his palms.

  Seeing the old man silent as a mouse, Luke continued to remain on the sand, his palms burning on top of the scalding grain.

  (Old Man) Took you long enough.

  Luke squinted his eyes into the man’s mask, unable to see past the darkened eyes that were above his black bandana. Nothing sparkling inside of his ghostly pupils, not even the man’s irises glowed his usual eye color.

  His hair was gray, and his jacket, pants, and boots were coated in black. Luke hunched his head forward while some sand grazed the bottom of his eyelids.

  (Luke) You look familiar.

  (Old Man) I happen to get that a lot.

  The old man extended his right hand to the still Luke, as the young man began puckering up his lips to the sight of just the senior’s blisters alone. Not wanting to inhale the burning air, he took the old man’s hand, the senior’s strength unusual as he pulled up Luke without a quilt of groan.

  Helping Luke stand, he glanced around the endless horizon of sand yet again, unable to trace a whiff of wildlife or plantlife or…

  Just life itself.

  (Luke) What is this place?

  (Old Man) Long story short, this is the remains of a planet graveyard. Everyone on this planet has ceased living, meaning I am the only survivor left standing.

  (Luke) What happened?

  Staring into a random sandstorm that passed through the west, the old man placed his right hand back inside his pocket. Leaving his left hand out, he pointed to that same sandstorm that whistled and blew like the sound of a mythical train, a ghost train to be short.

  His fingernail yellow and cracked, it looked as if hundreds of grains of sand were stuck inside his nail.

  (Old Man) A mistake was made, leading to the destruction of this planet and everyone else on it. Me being me, I tasked myself with one single mission.

  (Luke) What mission?

  (Old Man) To finish what I started.

  The old man furrowed his right brow at the nonchalant face that Luke drew, leading him to tilt the black fedora down to cover his forehead. Gruffing out a cough, the insides of his mummified throat hardened under the sand particles that nestled themselves in it.

  (Old Man) You talk to me as if you knew me. Most people would question who I am or how they got here.

  (Luke) Honestly, I’m so tired that I don’t care where I am. Everything that I went through and now I’m on a planet where life has ceased…

  (Old Man) But you should be surprised.

  Pulling back his left hand, he tucked it away inside his black jacket, balling it into a fist before walking the opposite way of the sandstorm. While Luke continued to see its howling winds carve the sand off of its roots, it appeared to be moving to the North, meaning that it didn’t want to approach the two of them.

  Glancing at the old man walking without him, Luke jogged to him before walking alongside him, both their heights relatively the same. But the old man appeared much slimmer than he looked, more so than even the scrawny yet muscular slim Luke.

  (Luke) I don’t understand why I should be surprised.

  (Old Man) If I told you now, you’ll just be confused. The least I can say to you is that you’re a key to a grand plan that I came up with.

  (Luke) A plan?

  (Old Man) A plan that will help me break a cycle.

  Continuing along with their walk, Luke noticed a few meters to his right a cliff twenty meters down. The sand flowed down from the edges of the sanded cliff, his right foot a mere inches from the edge, Luke tried not to look down.

  Even though the fall wouldn’t be lethal, considering sand is softer than water.

  Without looking back at Luke, the old man scoffed out a simple chuckle.

  (Old Man) Scared of heights? After everything that you went through during your first ordeal.

  (Luke) First ordeal? Wait…

  Luke stopped in his tracks, his boots being blanketed by the white sand that began to sink his body at a snail’s pace. As for the old man, he stopped too, his head continuing to look straight while his left hand’s knuckles faced the furrowed brow Luke.

  (Luke) How did you know what happened at Lagefor?

  His left knuckle stinging against the ever-flowing sand that grazed it, the old man raised it up to the side of his jacket, letting it enter the inside of his jacket. Scurrying his pockets, the old man brought out a metal object, the steel chromed in a metallic silver.

  Turning toward the dumbfounded Luke, the old man let his hand drop, before tossing it to him. Catching the object with open hands, Luke looked down to see the object with widened eyes, noticing the tint of the metal being oddly familiar.

  (Luke) This is a yo-yo…

  (Old Man) Do you know who that is?

  (Luke) I’m trying to remember…

  (Old Man) Remembering the past isn’t going to help us out here. Let’s continue walking.

  Going through their endless journey, Luke looked up to the midday sun that sprawled out mini waves of heat above the sky. Looking down, and glancing from the North, South, East, and West; waves of the same heat traversed the arid region that lacked the simplest of life.

  His thumb rubbing the metallic tint of the yo-yo, Luke cast his eyes down.

  (Old Man) Not just you, but several others are chosen for this plan to work. You may not see them as allies right now, but you’ll see the ugly truth beyond this planet graveyard.

  (Luke) You mean my enemies?

  (Old Man) I didn’t just say enemies.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  (Luke) My allies?

  (Old Man) Everything will be untold.

  Like a tiny brown dot in the middle of a canvas painting, both Luke and the old man saw the tiniest flick of a sandstorm in front of their eyes. The sand beneath their soles soon blew away from them, Luke took a step back as the tiny brown dot that seemed cute…

  Managed to harness the power to blow chunks of sand away from that far distance.

  Gulping down whatever dryness stuck to the gums of his teeth, Luke grit both of his jaws as he walked faster toward the senior. Placing his hand onto his shoulder with a firm grip, he didn’t push his fingers deep into the old man’s collarbone but rather nudged the man back to look at him.

  (Luke) You’re saying two different subjects in one scene. This plan? How do you know the events at Lagefor? Please focus on one thing.

  The old man stopped yet again, turning around to see Luke’s right eyelid twitching erratically as his grip firmed. Exhaling out a long gust of dry air from his wrinkled lips, the man raised his right hand to the back of his head, scratching off bowls of dandrum and sand to the barren ground.

  Inhaling in an influx of burning air, the sand-filled particles littered his rustic lungs like water being poured onto metal.

  (Old Man) Which one do you truly want to know?

  (Luke) Lagefor, tell me how you know.

  The old man looked up at the daytime sky, no clouds ever present or forming along the neverending planes of dunes. With the only clouds being the scorching and witch-screaming winds that were miles in front of them, he cleared his throat before arching his head back.

  (Old Man) To tell you the truth, I know everything from the present to the future. Or at least the past.

  Luke pulled back his hand from the old man’s shoulder, dropping it down to his side while furrowing his right eyebrow up. Rubbing his thumb with his knuckle, he clicked his tongue once before staring deep into the burning sand that warmed his boots.

  (Luke) But … that doesn’t explain—

  (Old Man) Simplifying it to your standards, I know each ordeal you’ll soon partake in. From your past ordeal that started with The Fall of Ticia to the counterattack of Lagefor, to now your ordeal in getting your friends back. This is just your second.

  He looked up to the old man.

  Balling his fists, Luke placed them to his sides as both crevices of his eyes slanted onto the top of his nose. The wind blew heavily on their faces, only Luke’s right side bang rippled in the wind, letting both of his eyes glow its red color that sparkled amidst the lifeless land.

  While the old man continued to look straight at the increasing sandstorm from afar.

  (Luke) Second? Do you mean there’s more?

  (Old Man) I’m not telling you the count, but yeah. There’s more to prove your worth as—

  (Luke) Why me…?

  He bit his lower lip hard, letting it trail down a strong gush of blood that soaked his jaw and throat. His eyes scrunching up, both of his temples sprouted out one or two veins that jumped out from his skin.

  While hunching his back forward, the midday sun raining its scorching rays onto his pale neck.

  (Luke) Out of everyone that you wanted for this grand master plan, why me…?

  He finally turned around.

  His face darkened underneath his bandana that covered his mouth and cheeks, Luke didn’t bother to look as he stared into the burning sand that blanketed up to his ankles. Ignoring the sand-filled footsteps that walked toward him, he didn’t bother to look up as the old man stood in front of him.

  Unable to cover Luke with his shadow, the man crossed his arms underneath his chest, while letting out a low growl from his mummified throat.

  (Old Man) Sometimes. I wonder about that too.

  Luke looked up.

  His glare fading away like ashes in the sea, Luke uncurled his balled hands. Letting his mouth slightly open for scorching air to seek shelter, his lower teeth begin to stab the bottoms of his gums.

  Placing the palm of his hand underneath his chin, he rubbed it back and forth.

  (Luke) You do?

  (Old man) You’re not the only one holding illusionary sins.

  The old man grabbed Luke’s collar with both of his dried hands, his fingers wrinkling the black leather. Pulling Luke close to his face, both of them saw each other in their own eyes, eyes that both told the same story.

  And also the same insecurities. Averting his eyes away, Luke pushed down his face, letting his hands motionless to gravity.

  (Old Man) I’ve made mistakes. I’ve regretted decisions. But one thing that I didn’t regret was helping my friends out in need.

  (Luke) Your friends?

  (Old Man) A group that had each other's backs, helping each other out at their lowest. Our made-up family to make up the deaths of our original ones.

  Luke clenched the old man’s wrists, wrapping them with his curled-up fingers that he softly dug with the tip of his fingers. Trying not to angle his fingernail to dig into his skin, his fingers hardened when jabbing himself into the bone of the senior, leading him to halt his strength.

  Instead of pulling away, or even defending himself, he kept his blistering feet frozen on the sunken patch of sand that covered his boots. Unshakened, his soulless eyes continued to stare deep into Luke’s.

  (Luke) Just who are you?! Are you the enemy?! The ringleader or man behind it all?!

  Silence drew out from the old man.

  Only the blistering winds from in front of them continued to pound their faces with its blistering sand. Maintaining his facial expression, the old man let the tip of his black fedora narrowly touch the top of Luke’s head.

  As the world blanketed an imaginary white.

  Despite the world that they resided in continuing, the scenery blanketed a white of nothingness, the winds dying down from the sound of nothing. Only the sound of their breathing whistling in this imaginary space, the old man slowly lifted his head so that the tip of his fedora wasn’t touching Luke’s forehead.

  (Old Man) I’m no ringleader, nor the man behind all of this; just an ordinary geriatric.

  The world of white ceasing, they were pulled back into the dune desert that sunk their boots. Turning Luke’s body around, the old man pushed Luke…

  Off of the sanded cliff.

  The angle being a 180-degree drop, Luke couldn’t grab onto a ledge even if he tried. Letting the hot air ripple his black clothes, he saw from on top of the cliff the old man looking down at him.

  His eyes widened, his hands extended outward to grasp the hand that was out of reach, and the entirety of his back slammed onto the soft burning sand that enveloped him like dough.

  (Old Man) Now it’s my turn.

  Gently, the old man raised his right foot off the ground, tilting his body forward as he soon began to descend into the pillow of sand waiting at the bottom. Keeping his left hand on the top of his fedora, he closed his eyes while landing on the soft sand that blanketed his entire body.

  A gust of sand sprinkled around them, the first person to get up from the pit was none other than the senior. Lifting his head up, he looked at the top to see the cliff still rolling down the only thing that littered this world.

  Walking in knee-deep sand, he walked right where Luke landed.

  (Old Man) You should be still alive. Don’t think that being blanketed with sand would be enough to kill you.

  Luke spiked his body up from the sand, coughing intensely as chunks of it entered his barren mouth. Wiping grains of it from his lips with his right sleeve, Luke looked up to the old man glaring at him, his eyes emotionless and free of sympathy.

  Using the soles of his feet, Luke raised himself from the grains of sand that molested his skin, clenching his hands with red in his eyes.

  (Luke) Why did you do that?!

  (Old Man) You fell down on your back, but a month prior you fell down head first into hell.

  (Luke) Wait…

  (Old Man) Now my question is why did you fall on your back?

  Luke unclenched his hands, averting his eyes while the old man started to shake off the never-ending grains of sand that clamped onto his clothes. Despite the ground being the same height level after the old man wiped his clothes clean, the senior had his eyes on Luke.

  Taking one step forward, the old man finally cast his shadow over the young man, the cliff from above and his head working together to project it. The burning heat being replaced with a shriveling cold that sunk his bones, Luke shyly glanced at him.

  (Luke) I … I don’t … I don’t know.

  (Old Man) A man with resolve always falls head first into action. Where’s that same resolve that pulled you to be a soldier?

  A soft voice began to nibble at his right ear.

  Turning around to his right, he saw no one, yet the whispering remained. A voice molded like cream, a voice molded like honey, a voice molded…

  With immaturity.

  Like the spark of a lighter, Luke widened his eyes, the crevices of them on the verge of withholding tears that wanted to trail out. A flood of memories played relentlessly and mercilessly into his mind, his breathing fastened as soft heavy pants rubbed the red part of his lips.

  (Luke’s thoughts) Gwen…

  A promise he made to a fellow soldier, a promise to be her best soldier. Fulfilling that single promise, Luke felt a huge hole swallowing up whatever spirit and soul he had. Learning the truth or being a leader, what two things could fulfill that hole that Luke could…

  One tear escaped from his right eye.

  Placing his soft fingers underneath his eyelid, then his left let out another. Sniffling once, Luke used his right sleeve to slate away the water that began to drench his black leather, denting it fully.

  (Luke’s thoughts) She really was the life of the group…

  The wind from on top of the cliff began to fasten evermore, causing the sand to flow evermore from its base down to the bottom. Both of their boots were enveloped underneath the burning sand, some of it began to sink deep into the open area, filling the insides so that their feet boiled.

  But both of them ignored the pruning pain.

  Spreading both of his feet apart, he extended his right hand out, using his pointer finger to point straight at the old man. Continuing to be covered by the old man’s frozen shadow, the warmth of the sand below created an equilibrium within Luke’s heart.

  (Luke) I can only make one promise at a time. My friends, if you know them, are in serious need of help, and only I could help them.

  (Old man) And you need my help?

  (Luke) How can I save them?

  The old man pushed parched air from out of his nostrils, the top of his bandanna swaying with the air opposite of oxygen. Placing both of his wrinkled hands into his pockets, he began to walk toward Luke who maintained his still-pointed finger at him.

  Standing right in front of Luke, Luke’s nail slightly touched the old leather fabric of the senior’s jacket, causing Luke to stare at him with glaring eyes.

  (Old Man) You’re their leader, right? You can think of a solution or chemical solution. Either way, you know how to save them.

  (Luke) But … I’m not a leader…

  (Old Man) Then be that leader.

  Taking out his right hand from his pocket, the old man used it to push up his fedora so that his hairline was slightly visible to Luke. By just using his wrinkled finger, he placed it back down to his side, his eyes finally on the verge of showcasing a hint of color.

  With those words, Luke’s soul began to fill up brick by brick, simmering and shoveling everything that had fallen apart over the past couple of days. His spirit, his will, his resolve, and everything that he had during his first ordeal began to grow back inside.

  (Old Man) Everything that people think of as being a leader, be that. Everything that you think of as being a leader, be that. But never, never let them down. You must not.

  (Luke) I won’t.

  (Old Man) Then go.

  (Luke) But I need help—

  Without blinking, the old man thrust his right fist straight into Luke’s face, his arid knuckles slamming straight into Luke’s cheekbone. Without tumbling or crashing down on the sand, Luke took two steps back, clenching his eyes and hovering his hands over the inflicted area.

  Using his teeth to hiss out the pain, Luke opened his right eye, while his hands softly scratched the purplish bruise that grew and swollen his cheek.

  (Luke) Why did you…?

  (Old Man) If you didn’t have a brain, I would’ve thrown my fist on the back of your head.

  (Luke) … do you hate me?

  The old man placed his right fist back into his pocket, his old darkened eye bags looking down at the desert sand that began to swallow up his ankle-deep boots. His right hand still shaking, he felt his bones trembling and colliding against one another.

  Keeping his trembling old hand inside, the old man’s eyes began to glow evermore.

  (Old Man) I used to….

  (Luke) Use too?

  (Old Man) But out of everyone, I have the highest expectations coming out of you.

  Using his left hand, he placed it firmly onto Luke’s right shoulder, causing Luke to let his right hand drop to his side. Keeping his burning feet still on the ground, the relentless assault of his toes being pinched only worsened on both Luke and the old man, with Luke flinching both of his legs.

  Spreading his feet an inch away from each other, the old man looked deep into Luke’s eyes, with both of them finally seeing themselves in each other.

  (Old Man) But use your head. That’s your most important use to you.

  Heavy winds blew against their pale faces, pushing their eyelids up to close them from the scraping sand. Raising his left hand, he held down the top of his fedora, hunching his head forward while covering his nose with his right hand.

  (Old Man) Our time limit is running low. You could ask me anything about the upcoming plan, or you could ask who I really am.

  His right sleeve covering his mouth and nose, Luke barely opened his eyes to see the old man hunched back in the blowing sanded winds. Their leather jackets rippling against the hot air, the sun from above began to descend just beyond the cliff’s edge, casting a dark shadow amongst the two of them.

  Unable to take a step back, Luke balled his left hand, lifting his hand so that he thumped his chest twice.

  Gliding it straight across, he ended the salute right on the right side of his chest, his eyes squinting at the old man that still stood.

  (Luke) Your name … tell me your name … who are you exactly?

  Sand began to blanket up to their knees, their shins and calves burning from the warm chunks of grain that swept into their clothes. His feet tried to worm out, but the cliff edge that barreled more sand onto them only worsened, as the dust storm from afar started to come toward their direction.

  Still having his wrinkled hand on top of his fedora, he gently began taking it off.

  Using his left hand to hold the top, he used his right to hover over his bandana. Pulling it down to his throat, the black fabric unveiled the old man’s cheeks that were littered with wrinkles and…

  His eyes glowed red.

  The man…

  Was Luke.

  His eyes, his hair, his body, his face; everything looked exactly like him except for the difference in age.

  Noticing a swayed back sidebang tucked away on his right ear, his hair was shaded in a grayish-white, his glowing eyes looking softly at his own self. His throat unwilling to draw breath, his vocals clashed with another, followed by his adam’s apple quivering violently at the sight of him.

  (Old Man) Be better than me.

  From their toes up to their stomachs, the neverending sand that began to subdue them only worsened as their hairs blew with the wind. Finally shutting their eyes from the eye-pinching sand, Luke let the loud whistling from the sandy winds blast into his ears since his hands were subdued by the sand as well.

  But the Old Luke still raised his voice, after clearing his throat and swallowing whatever sanded saliva that stuck to his spit.

  (Old Man) Save your friends! Save both Luna and Hope! But remember…

  His vision dissipated, his sense of touch, smell, and taste fading away as if his nerves began to shut down, the only thing he could hear was the fury of dead mother nature. Almost as if he was one with the darkness, he didn’t let it control him.

  No, he’ll fight it.

  But on the other side of this darkness, a last sentence muttered out of Old Luke’s parched lips, as the sand reached the height of their necks.

  Until the howling winds stopped.

  (Old Luke) You can’t run from your own story.