Cannibal

Emir blinked, materializing before the family for what felt like the millionth time.

If asked he couldn't say how long he spent there, at times he might say a few years, three or four, while at others, he would claim ten times that number.

It was an unending cycle of running and dying, sometimes slow, most times fast, immediate.

The slow deaths annoyed him quite a bit, he didn't enjoy killing himself, but he had to do it, he certainly wasn't a fan of bleeding out to death.

Anyhow, during that time, however long it was, he got closer to his destination but it seemed that it was impossible.

Dying by an explosion appeared to be an almost sure outcome.

It was random, true, but it was also inevitable.

No matter which route, he would die. Even with the best route he eventually reached, it wasn't enough, he would still die a few buildings away from his destination.