The desert divide is painful.

The fierce winds scatter granules of sand at slighting speeds, the winds and the sands must be a device of torture for everything here. My body drips blood and my eyes are blinded several times over. I've learned to keep them shut and walk blindly in the sandstorm’s permanence.

But it can’t be permanent, I know this to be a fact as I’d seen the landscape from above when I first entered Reais through the rift. The options I have now are to wait until the storm passes over me or escape it.

Either way, it’s a wonder I’m still alive, my lungs, nose, mouth, lips every bit of my exposed body is shredded and clogged with the relentless sands. Each granule burns with a heat I’d expect from the divide of fire or the divide of acid. And yet I manage to continue on living.

‘This is torture.’

Much like the Wall of Deaders putting everyone through horrible pains, gruesome memories of a foggy past and the constant blanket of despair. I believe each of the divides are intentional, made to torture everyone who ventures in without the slightest hope of natural death.

Even now, with these thoughts, I’m living in agony, and I can’t scream, I can’t run or bang my fists into something as that’ll only make things worse. Open my mouth and I get cupfuls of sand, run and I’ll be pushing my nude body into the sharp, burning granules.

‘This must be torture.’

A second hell, a continuation of the suffering the nameless Deities slighted by my ignorance banished me to. Seething I remind myself of the silver lining to all of this agony.

‘I’m alive again.’

In endless pain but when haven’t I been in pain? This is nothing new, all I’ve known is pain and the knowledge that things can be different, that a pain free existence can be a reality is just another tool those Deities use to punish me.

But I am alive, walking, crawling and stronger than I ever was in my memories as a human. Whatever those Deities' names are, I will have my vengeance, I will strike against them for this injustice.

Even now, gnashing my teeth in agony and rage. ‘How can I be punished for not knowing you exist? How can I be punished for rules I didn’t know I was breaking!’

The anger rising within me has bubbled since I woke on the Wall and learned it’s where the unfaithful reside. Be it because of ignorance like myself or choice, we’re cast into the Wall for being unfaithful to the Deities of our world.

‘Millions, billions of Deaders like myself…punished for not knowing.’

If not for myself then for them…I will exact my vengeance.

A chorus of laughter fills my head and I shudder, snapping my head at my sides. I find no one else with me, the sandstorm is difficult to see through and even with enhancements from my new demonic form, I can only manage so much.

There’s giggling now. A rush of footsteps behind me, then in front of me. I groan, “Show yourself!” whoever it is doesn’t dare but I hear them speak clear as the sand in my mouth now.

“Where are you going?”

I keep my guard up but the deserts punishments persist along with the lost voices, I’ll need to find a better shade and figure out my next move.

Blind in the storm I run into a rock large and wide enough to cover my body from one direction of the merciless sandstorm. It gives my back some reprieve from the biting, scathing slashes of sand digging up my flesh. My front is exposed but I’ve learned, more out of necessity than ingenuity, that Essence— the power of the Crystal in my chest— has more uses than transforming my fingers to claws.

Channelling the Essence in bulk through my frontside without letting it waste away requires conscious effort but it’s worth it. [Tough Skin] alone isn’t up to the task of shielding me from the harrowing sands and heat, but together with the Essence, I can afford this brief respite.

Brief because even as I sit by the rock, in the least bit of agony I’ve been through, the sands dig at my exposed parts even the ones shielded with Essence. And with each second that passes, I feel part of my Essence stolen away with my torn up flesh, Essence that won’t return without long rest. I can feel the power in the air, all around me and even in the sands hurtling at me. It’s everywhere in Reais and my Soul Crystal— an object I’ve taken care to study— laps up the ambient Essence, but does so very slowly.

As the only other source of Essence is other demons, I figure I’ll have to fight for my survival lest the environs kill me before I can figure anything out. The finite power hastens me to action, though not yet, the reprieve is sweet but it’s not all I’ve stopped for.

Name: Nil

Race: Demon

Type: Transformed Deviant Soul

Age: Immortal – 4years

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.2— 65esq

[Available Essence Points— 10]

Strength: 12

Agility: 12

Wisdom: 7

Abilities: [Faithless Absorption], [Faithless Mimicry]

[Available Trait Points— 10]

Traits: [Tough Skin]- Lvl.2

[Available Ascension Perk— 1]

Ascension Perks: Nil

Spells: Nil

Patron: Nil

A lot has changed to the sheet since I bit into the Tusked Demon and killed the Lizardfolk. I can make sense of a bit of what the sheet says, of what’s new. The word alone ‘Faithless’ tells me the ability has something to do with my origins as a Faithless Deader. Absorption would refer to the consumption of the Lizardfolk’s Essence and the sweet slivers I got from the Tusked Demon.

Mimicry…well, I suppose that explains the claws I used to rend into the Lizardfolk, something I’m still trying to replicate. My memory of the sensation is foggy, not at all there in some parts, but I do remember wishing to be as fierce as possible.

‘And the fiercest thing at that moment was the Tusked Demon I was running away from.’

Clenching my injured hands I resolve to try again, at least once I’m not using Essence to shield myself.

[Spells]. I know enough not to doubt the existence and function of magic. I’m no fool, there’s little else that could have created such torment, such creatures, such plains of agony. The Lizardfolk, the Elves, the Dwarves, I’ve spent four long years walking up a line to meet three house-sized Demons with these mythical beings, just to name a few.

Magic is a given and now I can wield it…or at least, it’s implied that I can. I still have nothing under [Spells]. I suppose I'll have to acquire them somehow. I haven’t gained any new [Trait] though, and the single one I have hasn’t budged since two years ago.

There is some good news though. Since moving up into Crimson and going up another level on that tier, I’ve gotten 10 Essence Points and 10 Trait Points. It’s not difficult to imagine what these points are for or even how to use them.

I direct my thought and add two points to all three stats.

[Available Essence Points- 4]

Strength: 14

Agility: 14

Wisdom: 13

I dump the last bit into wisdom just for some semblance of uniformity. Without any points to shift around I can’t change the stat sheet any further, my first choice is my last choice.

I only have one Trait; [Tough Skin] but I’ve levelled twice so I’ve got 10 points to spare. Without care I dump it all into my single trait and get an alert.

[Tough Skin]- Lvl.5 Maxed!

Evolve Trait? Costs 2 Trait Points

I’ve got 7 points left now but already the effects of the sandstorm are greatly mitigated, but not gone. ‘Sure…why not?’ I indulge myself, looking to see what exactly a trait evolution means.

[Tough Skin]- Lvl.5 Evolved!

Trait [Calloused Exterior]- Lvl.1 Attained!

There’s a significant difference with the evolved trait, my suffering is reduced by a margin and though I’ve spent 5 points getting here I think it’s worth it. I’m left with 5 Trait Points; I figure I’ll dump those into whatever trait I pick up next.

The last bit is rather confusing. [Ascension Perks]. The stat sheet still offers no tutorial on how any of this works, but when I went from Pink to Crimson I got one perk.

[Crimson Tier Ascension Perks]

[Dexterous Fiend] – Multiplies strength by *4. Increase Passive Healing by 15%. Base Esq +40

[Mana Fiend] – Multiplies wisdom by *4. Increase Mana Gathering by 15%. Spell cost -10%. Base Esq +40

[Reais Fiend] – Multiplies agility by *4. Increases Ambient Essence Absorption by 15%. Essence cost -10%. Base Esq +40

I figure I can choose from any of the three available perks, though they all look pretty identical to one another with very little differences. Each ties into one of my stats and aims to multiply it. Now I’m regretting not looking at this first before spending all my Essence Points.

It’s my first thought to go for the [Mana Fiend]. Magic calls to me, but without any way of exercising it I doubt it’d be any use. [Dexterous Fiend] is also tempting for the passive boost in healing, but it isn’t what I need now. Frankly, [Reais Fiend] makes the most sense. Essence is the life blood of everything in this world, it makes sense to have as much of it as possible.

All choices give a base to Esq, what I’m assuming is what determines a demon worth around here. [Reais Fiend] also provides a reduced cost to how much Essence I’ll need for things like shielding myself from sandstorm attacks, not to mention the extra Agility to escape tight spots. I smile and pick it without another thought.

‘Growth will be difficult, but not stagnant.’

I’m prepared, immortal and willing to pursue the power I’ll need to achieve my goals. If things continue like this, it won’t be long then.

‘Find the Gods of my world and make them pay.’

Aside from the incredulous fact that the targets of my ire are Gods and I’m a lowly Fiend of Reais, there are other more pressing hurdles to hoop through. Like answering questions.

Where is my world? Can I return? Who were the Gods that ruled over it? And…who am I?

Some things haven’t changed even with my consumption of the Tusked blood and triumph over the Lizardfolk. My [Name] remains bare and the fragmented pieces of my human past are all I have to go by, not even enough to remember my gender…but somehow enough to remember the agonizing moments living in my godless world. Enough to be certain that whatever Deities sent me to the Wall of Faithless never existed in my world.

Gritting my teeth, I resist the thought that I may be wrong, the ill-thought that my anger and fury are baseless and I was a Faithless muck as a human. It wouldn’t make the slightest sense for me to be wrong, in all my torturous memories I have nothing telling of magic. If there’s no magic then there aren't any gods.

To my feet, I direct the Essence from my front and onto my eyes. I lose less of it this way and regain my full sight, albeit tinted red, I can’t complain if it means I get a sense of where I’m wandering off to in this storm.

Hissing as the sting of scalding granules intensifies, I start off again in the direction I’ve been headed since I ran. But something odd catches my sight.

In the distance, a few paces away is a mound of sand, a heap unlike any of the other dunes and elevations. Shuffling movement in my periphery alerts me to another and then another.

‘That makes three…any others?’

A cursory look about the desert around me says no but that gives me little calm.

‘Have they always been there? Did I pass them when I came to sit?’

Cautious, I shift towards the single sturdy rock, pressing my back against it once more and to my shock, all three heaps shuffle closer, the sands shift and pour over as it moves to cover the space.

‘There’s something in there. Or maybe the something is the sand heap itself?’

Sand Demons? Could there be such things? I don’t know, but whatever it is, they’ve crept up on me and are working in tandem with each other.

‘Should I move again? Shit of course I should, this storm will eat through me if I don’t.’

Staring at the mounds sparks a thought.

‘Burning as the sand is, it's a much better blanket from the storm than my naked skin. But how do I burrow through the sand with a human body?’

Questions for another moment. The heaps aren’t content with the simple standoff we have going on and start moving, the sand heap grows tall, falling over the sides of them like a waterfall as my chest pounds and my fist balls up ready for confrontation until-

Bursting out of the mounds are large skittering insects, black, red and green with plenty chitinous legs scuttling through the sand. The black, long, horned creature with no face other than a chattering mount of a mouth pouring sand and sputtering goob makes it to me first.

With a thrust of its horned head, it catches me unready, gnashing a wound into my chest as it knocks me aside.

Howling in pain I’m given no reprieve as a long green stinger pierces into my side, I look up and find the second of my assailants, countless beady eyes stare back at me as it rubs thin stick-like arms together and sucks on its meal. Me.

The sensation of my blood rushing out of me is not one I appreciate but the giant insect manages to keep me down. My struggles only bring more pain as its stinger remains embedded in my shoulder.

Before I can begin to consider my options or the dreary thought that this is where my journey ends, the stinger snaps in my shoulder. Again I don’t bother screaming, rather my pained attention draws to the red heavy beetle-like insect that’s rammed the bloodsucker off of me.

Scrambling to my feet, woozy from blood loss but awake with a rush of adrenaline, fear and a burst of hope I make out the three insects. The deep focus enhancing and sharpening my senses and dulling the pain must be adrenaline, but it doesn’t feel regular.

They all stand on several legs, some thicker than the others with the green bloodsucker having the thinnest, looking like a breed between a mosquito and an ant, the broken stinger protruding its small ant-shaped head and body.

[Inurri]

The long-horned insect poses on all its eight legs, posturing against the two and chittering at them. Its wide, black back breaks open with buzzing wings every few seconds as it studies the two.

[Adar]

The red worries me the most. With a head wide and structured it acts as an effective battering ram, the head armour parts and a jaw falls open, releasing steaming liquids to the ground as it breathes from its earlier charge. At first, I thought it looked like a beetle but on closer inspection, I find it’s more of a locust shaped creature with a weird head.

[Tagorria]

Each of these Demons reek of Essence, a power that calls to me, beckoning me to sink my teeth into each of them, to rip it out and have it for myself. But the Crystals aren’t anywhere visible to me, my senses, cravings are all I can go on.

It’s a relief to see they aren’t working together, but they’re more than simple-minded insects to bother cornering me in the first place. They must think I’m injured enough to leave to the side and decide who gets to fill their stomach.

As raw as the call to battle for their Essence is, I have enough sense to know I’m screwed. Already on my feet I turn tail and start the first stretch of sprints to escape.

The chittering and buzzing grow louder a second after and before I know it the [Inurri] lands in front of me, wings buzzing and stinger dripping with steaming saliva.

‘Alright then…no escape, how does prey become hunter?’