Chapter:3-Start of a Journey

As Adam stood near the entrance of the base, the desert stretched endlessly before him. The sun beat down relentlessly on the barren landscape, casting long, wavering shadows across the golden dunes. The air shimmered with heat, the distant horizon blurring where the sky met the sand. The base behind him loomed like a fortress against the unforgiving expanse, an oasis of steel and stone amid the arid wilderness.

Its towering walls were a dull, weathered gray, blending almost seamlessly with the landscape. The buildings, coated in a fine layer of dust, bore the scars of time and countless sandstorms. Rusted satellite dishes jutted out from the rooftops, relics of a bygone era, their cracked surfaces still managing to pull in signals from distant frequencies.

A few heavy-duty vehicles sat in the open yard, their engines dormant, their metal exteriors baked under the relentless sun.

The smell of oil and hot sand lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of something charred—perhaps remnants of an old repair job gone wrong. The heat was thick, oppressive, yet within it, Adam found an odd sense of solitude.

The silence of the desert, broken only by the distant howl of the wind, felt almost sacred.

A sudden burst of movement shattered that stillness. The base's reinforced doors swung open with a hiss, and a familiar figure rushed toward him. His foster mother, Maria, her crimson cloak billowing behind her, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust.

Her fierce eyes—usually filled with command and authority—were now brimming with something else entirely: relief.

"Adam! You're back! Oh... my sweet baby boy!" she cried out, her voice shaking as she ran to him.

Before he could react, she wrapped him in a tight embrace, holding him as if she were afraid he might vanish again.

Her grip was strong, unyielding, but beneath it was the tenderness of a mother's love.

Adam let himself sink into the hug for a moment before pulling away slightly. "I'm sorry for worrying you, but..." His voice trailed off as he turned his head.

Maria followed his gaze, and her breath caught in her throat. Lying behind him, partially buried in the sand, was the massive head of a Dune Dragon.

It's scaled hide was scarred from battle, its lifeless golden eyes still reflecting the harsh sunlight. The sheer size of the beast was staggering—its head alone was twice as large as Maria herself, and she was already an imposing woman.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Maria let out a deep, satisfied chuckle. She reached out, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "I am so proud of you," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "Come, as soon as I knew you were in the vicinity, I ordered a feast!"

She grabbed his arm and all but dragged him inside, her excitement infectious.

The Celebration

Inside the base, the dining hall was alive with warmth and laughter. The cavernous space was filled with long wooden tables draped in cloth, each one laden with an abundance of food that seemed almost too extravagant for a place like this.

The squad had spared no expense for the occasion. Roasted meats, juicy and aromatic, sat beside steaming loaves of freshly baked bread.

Bowls of vibrant fruits—rare treasures in this barren land—were passed around. Clay mugs filled with ale and spiced water clinked together as the squad celebrated, their voices rising in merriment.

The scent of grilled meat, mixed with exotic spices, filled the air. For a brief moment, the desert outside felt like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of shared company.

Soldiers who had faced death together now laughed freely, their faces flushed from drink and firelight.

Maria stood at the head of the table, her crimson cloak pooling around her like a regal mantle. She watched over them all, her piercing gaze ensuring that no one sat in isolation.

Her presence was commanding as always, yet tonight, there was something else in her expression—something softer.

Then, she raised her mug, and the hall fell into an expectant hush.

"Eat, drink, and be merry!" she declared, her voice carrying through the chamber with the force of a commander's call. "Tonight, we celebrate not only victory, but Adam. Tomorrow, the world begins anew for him."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, followed by cheers and the sound of mugs slamming against the wooden tables.

Maria turned to Adam, her eyes locking onto his. There was pride in her gaze, but also something deeper—something almost sorrowful. He knew what was coming.

"Adam, come with me," she said, her tone softer now.

He followed her out of the hall, down a dimly lit corridor until they reached a small chamber. Inside, a single wooden desk stood against the wall, atop it a piece of parchment and a well of ink. The tools of a time long past.

Maria gestured toward them. "Draw a symbol," she instructed. "A symbol that is yours. A symbol that is you."

Then, without another word, she left, closing the door behind her.

The Mark of the Sun

For a long moment, Adam simply stared at the parchment.

The weight of the moment settled over him. This was more than a mere drawing—it was his identity, a mark that would forever bind him to his past, his present, and his uncertain future.

Taking a deep breath, he dipped the quill into the ink and began to draw.

The strokes were slow at first, hesitant, but soon they grew more confident. When he was done, he sat back and examined his work.

A circular sun, simple yet striking, with winding pillars of fire stretching outward in all directions. It was more than just a design—it was a statement. A promise.

The door creaked open, and Aravan stepped inside. He was the squad's tattooist, the one who had given each of them their marks. He studied Adam's design with a nod of approval.

"Good choice," he muttered before getting to work.

The process was quick but painful, the needle searing the ink into his skin. Adam clenched his teeth but did not make a sound. He had endured worse.

After what felt like an eternity, Aravan stepped back and held up a mirror. "Wanna check it out?"

Adam turned, his gaze falling on his reflection. The emblem stretched from his right mid-back to his upper right shoulder, the sun's fiery tendrils wrapping around his skin like a living force.

"Perfect..." he whispered.

A New Journey

Morning came too soon. The entire squad gathered at the base's entrance, the golden light of dawn casting long shadows.

Maria stood before him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Remember to respect yourself. And remember, you're never truly alone. We'll be with you, every step of the way."

Adam nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He was leaving behind a family, but they would always be with him. He turned to each of them, committing their faces to memory. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped forward, the weight of his new emblem pressing against his skin—a constant reminder of the legacy he now carried.

His hoverbike rumbled to life beneath him. The desert stretched endlessly before him, just as it had the day before, but now, it no longer felt empty.

As he sped off into the unknown, he turned back one last time, a grin breaking across his face.

"Goodbye, everyone! Goodbye, Mom!"

And with that, he was gone.