The world had… shifted. No jagged rocks, no familiar terrain.
Just endless grassy hills rolling under a sky that seemed way too big.
It was flat. Empty. Desolate.
“You really have got to be fucking kidding me!”
Malik turned in a slow circle, hoping to spot something—a stream, a puddle, a patch of mud; even a mirage would do.
Nope. Just grass. Miles and miles of boring, dry grass.
“Hahahahaha—Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he licked his cracked lips.
“If God exists like those annoying-ass preachers say… then I’m sure ‘He’ hates me.”
Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he tried to calm himself down:
“Alright, Malik… This is fine. You’re fine. You’re not gonna die out here, and Huda’s definitely not gonna die because you suck at finding water. Nope. Not happening.”
His pep talk wasn’t great, but it was all he had.
With a shaky breath, he pushed forward, his worn sandals crunching against the brittle, sun-bleached grass beneath his feet.
The dry air clung to his skin, and sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes.
He wiped at it with his robes, though it didn’t help much.
“…Maybe over that hill.”
A hill among many loomed ahead, its incline steep.
Malik decided it was as good a direction as any—better than standing still and admitting defeat.
He began the climb, his legs shaking all the way up.
And when he reached the top, he stopped again, exacerbated.
More grass.
Malik stared at it, his hands on his hips, his chest heaving.
“This place is a joke. A bad one.”
He squatted down, grabbed a handful of grass, yanked it out of the ground, and threw it as hard as he could.
It fluttered pathetically in the breeze before settling a few feet away.
“Cool. Yeah, real funny. Real freaking funny.”
He laughed, a bitter, broken sound.
Still, he didn’t stop.
Malik wandered further, the sun beating down on him, his skin prickling with heat.
His robe felt like it weighed a ton, but he didn’t dare take it off.
After what felt like hours, he stumbled to a stop.
He swayed on his feet, blinking at the horizon.
Still nothing. Still just grass.
Malik dropped to his knees and slammed his fists into the dirt.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”
With a final punch, he flipped, relaxing his back on the ground in defeat.
But then, as he lay there, cursing under each heavy breath, something clicked in his head.
‘I need to get back… I really can’t leave them for long.’
He sighed.
‘Huda needs me. Sinbad needs me… and this? It’s wasting time.’
Time was something they didn’t have.
Certainly true, but still, that would be the case only if Malik’s time-looping ability wasn’t taken into account.
But it seemed that even though he had acknowledged it as a tool, he still wasn’t going to rely on it the first time something tough happened.
After all, if he did that, tomorrow might never come.
“Ugh…”
Grimacing, he pushed himself back up, his legs trembling like jelly.
“…Alright.”
He turned back toward the grove.
“Plan C it is. Whatever that is.”
His walk back was slower, heavier, every step weighted with failure.
By the time he stumbled into the cave again, his legs gave out entirely, and he collapsed onto his knees beside Huda.
She hadn’t moved.
Neither had Sinbad.
“Sorry, kids… I’m fucked.”
After resting for a few minutes, he pushed himself up and leaned towards Huda.
‘Should I just give her my blood?…’
Malik shook his head.
‘No, it’s too thick; it might even kill her.’
He hesitated for a second, staring down at her chapped lips and flushed face.
“She’s gonna hate me for this… If you remember this later, we’re both agreeing it never happened, but for now, you gotta hang on, alright?”
And with that warning, Malik did the only thing he could.
Leaning in, he licked her lips, his face scrunching up like he’d just eaten something sour.
Her skin was hot—like, “set your tongue on fire” hot—and he fought the urge to recoil.
“Ugh, why do you have to taste like the desert?”
***
{Outside The Projection}
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Everyone remained quiet and slowly turned their eyes to Huda, one of the four “heroines.”
A maiden of well-known renown.
She was believed to have been untouched, not even a single kiss throughout her many hundred years of life.
Now, however?
Everyone in the world saw her gobble up Malik’s tongue like it was candy, wanting to extract all the moisture that was left, which wasn’t much at all.
Though she was just a child, the scene still impacted most who saw it.
Especially her camp, Safira, and Zafar, though for very different reasons.
“It’s fine, Lady Huda! Nobody will count that as their first kiss!”
“She’s right, my Lady. You are as pure as the day you were born.”
“There’s no need to feel embarrassed, Lady Huda.”
The closest of them tried to soothe, or rather, appease, the frozen Huda, while those at the back did something similar for the crowd, forcing them to forget what they saw.
Safira, meanwhile, looked at Huda with jealousy.
Right… it was that bad.
And Zafar wasn’t any better.
His eyes remained on the projection, seething with envy.
‘Bastard! His hand all over my fucking wife!’
Huda wasn’t his wife, and nor was Malik’s hand all over her, but again, the “hero” wasn’t thinking straight.
“We sure he isn’t just taking advantage of—”
“Shut the fuck up, you retarded bastard!”
“Anyone can see that’s not true.”
As the random trio arguing in the back had said, no one in the hall, or even beyond, could honestly claim that Malik did this for sexual reasons, much to Zafar’s dismay.
If anything, he seemed disgusted by it.
And that, for whatever bubbling reason, had annoyed Huda the most.
Whether it was effective or not didn’t register in anyone’s mind, like hey, he was at least trying, right?
***
{Inside The Projection}
“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done… and that’s saying something.”
Huda stirred slightly, her body loosening up as her ragged breathing evened out a little.
Malik sat on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and trying not to think too hard about what he’d just done.
“Alright, relax for a bit. You owe me big time, you hear? Like… forever big.”
He glanced over at Sinbad, who was still curled up and snoring softly.
“And you, little man.”
Malik pointed a shaky finger at him.
“You better wake up soon and start pulling your weight. I’m not cut out for this babysitting crap.”
With that, he let himself slump back against the cool wall as exhaustion claimed him.
His body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry in the sun.
Every muscle ached, every joint protested.
He tilted his head back, staring at the dark ceiling above.
“This is what I get for trying to be a hero… Should’ve just stayed out of it. Let someone else save the day.”
Even as he said those words, he knew it was a lie.
There was no “someone else” that would’ve saved the day.
It was just him.
And unfortunately for whatever aspirations he had before this, he couldn’t walk away.
Not from them. Not from anyone.
That wasn’t who he was, no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise.
“You guys better make it…”
“…”
“You hear me? I didn’t haul your little butts here just for you to check out now… You’re not… allowed. That’s… that’s an order!”
The last word came out all wobbly, like his vocal cords had just given up.
He swallowed hard, his throat dry and scratchy, blinking fast to keep his eyes from stinging too much.
‘Can’t sleep… no. Not yet…’
Malik dragged a dirty hand down his face.
The gesture didn’t help much—it just smeared sweat and dirt around, making his cheeks sticky.
‘Not until I make sure…’
His knees wobbled, and he let himself sink, his feet spreading wide, trying to anchor him to the ground.
‘…They’re… okay…’
He blinked.
‘Jus’… five seconds.’
‘…Just five.’
And then, just like that, the fight was over.
‘That’s all~.’
His eyes slammed shut like someone hit a switch.
‘…’
‘…’
‘…’
Malik had fallen asleep.