Desiru -

The figure blinked—surprised. “Nothing is the one thing this place cannot grant. A true lack of wanting? That would unmake the desert itself.”

Not from the sand, but from inside him. Towers of bone-white crystal pushed up through his exhaustion, their windows flickering with scenes he’d locked away: Mira laughing at the kitchen table. The argument that made him leave home. The last voicemail he never returned.

Sand began to swirl. The city trembled.

“Then I’ll walk out,” Kael said. “And I’ll want, every step. But I’ll want forward .”

The figure screamed as Kael turned his back on the city. The spires crumbled into sand, and the word carved itself one last time across the sky—then scattered like ash. desiru

“Desiru,” the figure whispered. “You came because you want something. But do you know what ?”

The figure stepped through the glass, becoming solid. It touched Kael’s chest. “No. You want the moment before she left. You want to unmake the fight. You want to be the person who answered the phone.” Its voice softened with terrible kindness. “That person doesn’t exist anymore. Desiru can’t give you what was never real.” The figure blinked—surprised

At dawn, Kael crawled over the final dune. There, sitting on a rock with cracked lips and tired eyes, was Mira.