Chapter 3: The Beast of Sand

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**Chapter 3: The Beast of Sand**

The growl came again, low and guttural, vibrating through the sand beneath Ray's feet. He froze, his grip tightening on the jagged rock in his hand.

Something's out there.

The desert was eerily silent, save for the whisper of the wind and the faint crunch of sand shifting underfoot. Ray's eyes darted across the dunes, searching for the source of the sound.

Where is it?

A shadow moved to his left, quick and fluid, blending with the rippling heatwaves. Ray spun, his heart pounding, but the shadow was gone.

It's playing with me.

He took a cautious step back, his eyes scanning the horizon. The structure he'd been heading toward was still visible in the distance, but it might as well have been on another planet. Between him and safety was something—something hungry.

The growl came again, closer this time, and Ray's breath hitched. He could feel it now—a presence, predatory and relentless, circling him like a vulture.

I can't outrun it. I have to fight.

He adjusted his grip on the rock, his palms slick with sweat. The beast was toying with him, testing him. He couldn't afford to panic.

A sudden movement to his right—Ray swung the rock instinctively, but it met only air. The beast was faster than he'd anticipated, its form flickering like a mirage.

What is this thing? A outer creature?

It lunged again, and this time, Ray caught a glimpse of it—a creature made of sand, its body shifting and flowing like water. Its eyes glowed faintly, two pinpricks of light in an otherwise featureless face.

It's not real. It can't be.

But the pain was real enough. The beast's claws raked across his arm, drawing blood. Ray stumbled back, hissing through his teeth.

Focus. It's fast, but it's not invincible.

He crouched low, his eyes locked on the creature. It circled him, its movements fluid and unpredictable. Ray's mind raced. He couldn't outrun it, and he couldn't outlast it. His only chance was to strike first.

The beast lunged again, its claws outstretched. Ray sidestepped, swinging the rock with all his strength. It connected with the creature's side, sending a spray of sand into the air.

The beast let out a guttural roar, its form flickering as it recoiled. Ray didn't wait—he pressed the attack, swinging the rock again and again. Each blow scattered more sand, but the creature didn't fall.

It's regenerating.

Panic surged as the beast's wounds closed almost instantly, its body reforming from the sand around it. Ray backed away, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

I can't kill it. Not like this.

The beast lunged again, and this time, Ray wasn't fast enough. Its claws tore into his shoulder, sending him sprawling into the sand. Pain exploded through his body, but he forced himself to roll away, narrowly avoiding another strike.

Think, Ray. Think.

The creature was made of sand, but it had a core—a faint glow in its chest, pulsing like a heartbeat. Ray's eyes narrowed.

That's it.

He scrambled to his feet, clutching the rock tightly. The beast circled him, its movements slower now, as if savoring the hunt.

Come on. Just a little closer.

The creature lunged again, and Ray braced himself. At the last second, he dropped to his knees, swinging the rock upward with all his strength. It struck the beast's chest, shattering the glowing core.

The creature let out a deafening roar, its body collapsing into a heap of sand. Ray fell back, his chest heaving, his body trembling with exhaustion.

It's… dead?

He stared at the pile of sand, half-expecting it to reform. But the glow was gone, and the desert was silent once more.

The voice echoed in his mind, cold and indifferent.

*You have slain a Sand Stalker. Your soul grows stronger.*

Ray didn't respond. His arm throbbed where the beast's claws had struck, and his shoulder burned with pain. He tore a strip of cloth from his ragged shirt and tied it around the wound, his hands shaking.

I can't stay here.

He looked toward the structure he'd been heading for, but the path was blocked—more shadows moved in the distance, their forms flickering like the beast he'd just fought.

There's too many. I'll never make it.

His only option was the oasis. It was farther, and it might be a mirage, but it was his only chance.

I have no choice.

Ray forced himself to his feet, his legs trembling with every step. The sun was still fixed in the sky, its light unrelenting. He could feel the desert's curse working on him, aging him with every step, but he pushed the thought aside.

Survive. No matter what.

The oasis shimmered in the distance, its waters taunting him. Ray began walking, his steps slow and deliberate. The pain in his shoulder was a constant reminder of the danger he'd faced—and the danger that still lurked in the dunes.

I'll make it. I have to.

As he trudged through the sand, the shadows followed, their growls faint but unmistakable. Ray didn't look back. He kept his eyes on the oasis, his grip tight on the jagged rock.

The trial wasn't over.

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