The desert is the only place anyone has ever known—the heavy warmth of the sun and the dry air are seemingly forever.

It's only a question as to what could be out there–and the peoples of the desert have made up tales as answers. There is a tale of a large fertile Oasis with abundant fruits and water hidden nearby; it shows itself to those who dare trek through the unforgiving desert sands. Many people have tried to prove the tale, and many have not returned. The tale is nowadays only a tradition that the older folks tell–hardly anyone believes it, even the children with their creative imaginations seem to find it boring.

That was not the case for me. Every time I heard that legend, I would dream of fresh running water and fruit. No more sand, no more hot, dry air–even the sun would be more bearable. I knew that someday I would go out and find the Oasis to live out my dreams of having eternal food and water. The chiefs of the desert peoples usually forbid leaving the encampments, and I knew the chief of my encampment would not be too happy if another soul was lost to the sand. But, I couldn't have a care in the world about what some old guys think.

I'm going to prove to them that I can find the Eternal Oasis, even if I risk the loss of everything I have ever known. I'm going to prove to them all.

Now, I knew that I could not undertake such a journey alone. I had already recruited my older brother, Warren, and my best friend, Magnolia to my cause. She had promised me that she would steal one those ten-gallon water jugs from school, and that Warren would steal as much meal replacement powder from his work on the army barracks, as long as I drew up the map for the journey. I was as excited as someone could be about hyper-protein meal powder, mostly made from ground up remains of whatever lived around here -- snake bones, and scorpion shells, ground into powder and mixed into water. To be honest, I wasn't even quite sure that the water here was real, it was thickened and warm, colour ranging from anywhere to cloudy white or a muddy grey depending on the day.

I hated it here. I had nothing better to do but fantasize about the fruits described in legend: bright, vibrant mangoes, juicy bursting pineapples, coconuts filled with fresh, sweet water and bananas that cmae with their very own shells.

As I sat in my room that night, in our four-person bungalow, pens scattered across the floor as I pored over a large roll of paper, I drafted it out. I had taken a book form the school library on the myths and legends of The Oasis, and worked off of that. One said it was a mile away from by a lush mangrove -- the closest thing I knew to that around here was a cluster of dried out shrubs. One said the air around it shimmered gold and pink, which I presumed meant it was located in the deepest part of the desert, hot enough that the air could move like water, glittering. It took me four days to finish the map. I rolled it up, and tucked it into my schoolbag for the next day.

I sat down next to Magnolia at lunch. "Hey, Maggie, I finished it."

She turned to me eyes wide. She almost dropped her spoon into her scorpion-snake-scale soup. "The map?"

I nodded. "Yeah. We leave with Warren in his army buggy tonight."

She grinned back. "I'll be there."

Magnolia and I waited at the edge of town, crouched behind a latrine. I found that amusing, since sneaking out made me feel like I would crap myself. The water jug sat beside me, where it's been—filled—waiting for the past day. The night temperature was just cool enough to make me feel chilly. A gentle breeze blew, further compounding my goose bumps.

"Pete, where is he," Maggie hissed at me. "He's thirty minutes late."

"Shh," I intoned.

Somebody sneezed, their footsteps came closer to our cover. On the other side of us the door to the outhouse opened, then shut. I could hear someone relieving themself. I tried to focus on the sand. After a few minutes the door swung open, then closed again.

"I'm going to kill Warren when I see him next," Maggie said. "Just for making me listen to that."

Maggie's an angry person, It's just the way she was, I tried to be more neutral in these situations.

"Maybe he's biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity," I offered.

Maggie seemed dissatisfied, but she remained quiet. All was still for a while longer. The sand gently rustled in the breeze, time seemed frozen for all to see.

"Maggie, look," I said, waiting with bated breath. She squinted out at the dessert. "Look, there it was again.

Sure enough, a light flashed in our direction, it looked like–"headlights," Maggie and I say in unison. We grin at each other for a moment, there's only one person that could be!

By the time I lugged the—questionably sourced—water to the buggy my shoulder felt tense.

"You couldn't have parked any closer?" I chided.

"I didn't want anyone to hear the engine. I had to drive out the back entrance, I couldn't risk driving through town."

"He's got a point," Maggie interjected.

She may have been grumpy at Warren for taking so long, but I can tell she's impressed he actually managed to sneak the vehicle out. One thing she admired more than punctuality is competence.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go," Maggie said.

We loaded into the vehicle.

"Woah," Maggie exclaimed, peaking underneath a tarp draped over the trunk. "That's a lot of gross powder."

"Yeah it is," I seconded.

We drove for hours, stopping once in a while to consult the map. Two things quickly became apparent to me: ten gallons of water for three people were nowhere near enough—I should have foreseen this—and this map was utterly useless. I cobbled it together with fairytales and broken dreams. I threw it down on the floor of the buggy.

Warren, who's standing a few feet away, turned to look at me, "You look so defeated, Pete. where's that boy with such a sense of adventure, nothing could stop him?"

"That was before everything went wrong."

"You just need a new perspective," Warren said, pointing away from me.

I wasn't sure what he was getting at, then I realized what he saw. A sand dune—larger than the rest—stretched out in the distance. Excitment coursed through me. Maybe we could see something from atop it!

Warren looked at me, smiling, "there he is."

getting to the vantage point of the dune proved to be more of a challenge than we thought. The buggy crapped out half-way there.

"Grab what you can carry, we'll have to leave the rest behind, Warren said. We each filled a water bottle, and stored in our backpacks as much gross-powder as possible. The journey on foot was arduous. It was nearing mid day. there was no reprieve from the intensity of the sun. I felt like I was losing more moisture from perspiring than I could possibly replenish, even without the new ration restriction.

"We can't go on like this," Maggie said, breaking the silence. Warren, who was usually calm and collected appeared for the first time, anxious.

"I don't want to end up like Elder John," I said. "He'd always talk about that time he got lost in the desert for a week, surviving only by drinking his own urine."

"I think I'd rather die," Maggie decided.

He acts like that was his defining moment, I spoke "The piss must have addled his brain." Maggie and Darren giggled. I felt a little better hearing them.

We trudged onward toward what end, we did not know. I put my bottle to my lips, relishing the last few drops.

"Need. More." The others didn't look much better off. Warren had completely lost his cool, I could see the worry etched on his face. I know he's probably thinking it's his fault that we're about to die out here. But the truth is, our town had become too small for me, nothing could have stopped me from leaving, not even him. Maggie was staggering like she might lose her footing, stumbling and catching herself right before she fell.

I had just decided my death would surely have something to do with this noxious heat, when I spotted about a quarter mile from us, a most glorious sight—a beautiful oasis, lush trees surrounded the most ethereal body of water I'd ever seen. Actually, it was the only body of water I'd ever seen, still I supposed as far as water bodies go, this one was pretty superb. "Look," I insisted, my voice barely a hoarse whisper. The other two followed my gaze, seeming confused by what they saw. "Follow. Me." I turned away from the direction of the large dune.

I led the way, this was my moment. I was so thirsty, I'd never been more thirsty in my life. Still, I had found what I was looking for not even a day into my adventure, I had found it. I could show everyone back at town where it was, I would be hailed a hero. Our lives would forever be changed by my discovery. We trudged onward, too delirious for much else. Closer and closer. I was beginning to imagine the taste of the clear water. Keep moving. I watched in horror as the image melted away before my eyes, leaving me staring at nothing but sand.

Maggie bumped into me from behind, toppling us both over, I lay where I fell, staring up at the scorching ball of gas beating down on us. I heard Warren make a similar decent nearby. This is where it ends, duped by a mirage. Where might we be if we had continued to our vantage point? I tried to lift my head. The large dune was now too far away. My body was getting away from me, muscle spasms and shriveling skin. I felt like I was turning into a raisin.

At first I thought I had died. It was as if someone had turned down the intensity of the sun. A cool breeze picked up, making the conditions almost pleasant. then I felt it, it couldn't be—could it? There it was again, cool moisture had fallen on my leg. I opened my eyes. Dark clouds had rolled over-head, obscuring the sun. gentle pitter-patter soon morphed to a torrential downpour.

I fumbled in my bag for the water bottle. In my weakened state even the empty bottle seemed heavy. I managed to unscrew the top, I filled it from a nearby pool forming next to me. I noticed my companions were doing the same. "Not dead yet," I croaked.

Before long we were on our feet again, taking shaky steps toward the large ridge.

The rain had lessened to a drizzle. Still weak, but invigorated by their brush with death, the three companions made steady progress forward. As they crested the top of the hill, they were struck by awe at what they saw.

For a long moment, none of us spoke. It wasn’t just that we were exhausted, bodies still trembling from the edge of death—we simply didn’t have the words for what lay before us. Beyond the ridge, the desert broke. A vast stretch of green unfurled below us like something torn from a dream and stitched into reality. Trees clustered thick and tall, their leaves a deep, impossible green that seemed almost too rich to exist. Water glimmered between them, not in small, sad puddles, but in winding streams and a wide, glassy pool that reflected the grey sky above.

The Oasis.

Maggie let out a weak, breathless laugh. “No way…”

Warren didn’t laugh. He just stared, eyes wide.

I took a step forward, then another, afraid that if I moved too quickly, I’d wake up back in the sand with a dry throat and a useless map.

“It’s real,” I whispered.

The descent was slow, careful. The rain had turned the sand slick beneath our feet, and more than once one of us slipped, catching ourselves just before tumbling down the slope. But none of us complained, not when every step brought us closer. We reached the edge of the greenery just as the rain finally stopped. Up close, it was even more overwhelming. The trees weren’t dry husks like the shrubs back home, they were thick, sturdy, their trunks rough beneath my fingers. And the water…

I dropped to my knees at the edge of the pool. All my life, water had been thick. Warm. Wrong. Even when we drank it, it never felt like it truly belonged in our bodies. This was different, crystal clear and flowing like a living creature. I plunged my hands into it. The cold shocked me so much I gasped, pulling back instinctively before forcing myself forward again. I scooped it up, watching it slip effortlessly between my fingers. I didn’t even realize how desperate I was until that moment. I drank until I choked, coughing and laughing at the same time.

Behind me, Warren followed more slowly, but even he couldn’t hide the grin spreading across his face.

Maggie wandered a few steps into the trees and came back holding something yellow. “Look!” she said, tossing it to me.

I fumbled it, nearly dropping it in the water. It was soft and slightly curved like a moon. The skin peeled back easily under my thumb.

“A banana,” I said, the word feeling strange in my mouth as I bit into it. For a second, my brain didn’t understand what was happening. Sweetness flooded my mouth, rich and bright with a fabulous texture I couldn't quite describe. Nothing like the bitter, chalky powder we’d grown up on.

Maggie burst out laughing at my expression. “Good?”

I couldn’t answer. I just nodded, taking another bite. Warren took one too, chewing slowly, like he was trying to memorize the taste.

Later, as the sky began to darken, a quiet settled over us, a night-time unlike any I had ever seen. This one was full and buzzing faintly with insects, rustling leaves, the gentle lap of water against the shore, cool and calm without the stifling dry air. It should have felt like victory--it did--but something else crept in too.

Warren was the first to say it. “We can’t keep this to ourselves.”

Maggie frowned. “Why not?”

“Because people are dying out there,” he said, gesturing back toward the endless dunes. “You saw what almost happened to us.”

I looked down at the water, watching the ripples spread. “I wanted to prove them wrong,” I admitted. “To show them I could find it.”

“And you did,” Maggie said quickly.

“Yeah,” I said. “But… what’s the point if it’s just us?”

She didn’t answer right away. The Oasis stretched out around us: more than enough for three people. Maybe more than enough for dozens. Maybe. Or maybe that was just another story we’d told ourselves.

“We rest tonight,” Warren said finally. “Then we decide.”

I woke to birdsong. At least, I thought it was birdsong. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever heard before, too layered, too melodic, like multiple voices weaving through each other. For a few peaceful seconds, I forgot where I was. I forgot the desert, the heat, the ache in my bones.

For a moment, I smiled. Then I remembered.

“We need to go back.”

The thought hit me fully formed, sharp and urgent. I sat up too quickly, my head spinning as the world tilted. Maggie was still asleep by the water’s edge, one arm trailing in the pool. Warren sat a little further off, already awake, staring toward the ridge. He didn’t turn when I spoke.

“We should head back early,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. “Before it gets too hot again.”

Still nothing. A knot formed in my stomach. “Warren?” I called out.

“I’ve been watching it,” he said quietly.

“Watching what?”

“The ridge.”

I walked over, following his line of sight. It was still there...but not like before. The slope we had climbed, the path we had taken, it should have been clear, even from a distance. A long, steady incline of sand leading up and out. Instead, it looked broken, like the desert beyond it wasn’t holding still.

“That’s just the wind,” I said quickly. “Sand moves.”

Warren shook his head. “Not like that.”

He was right. The horizon shimmered, bending and warping like heat rising off the ground, except there was no heat like that here. The air was cool, almost humid. The distortion pulsed, slow and unnatural.

Maggie stirred behind us. “Why are you both standing there like creeps?”

“Come look at this,” Warren said.

She groaned but pushed herself up, trudging over. “…oh.”

“See?” Warren said.

Maggie frowned, rubbing her eyes. “No. That’s just… perspective. Or something. It looked normal yesterday.”

“It did,” I said.

We stood there, the three of us, staring at the only way home.

“Let’s just go,” Maggie said suddenly. “We’re wasting time.”

She didn’t wait for us to agree. She started forward, stepping out of the soft greenery and onto the sand. The moment my foot left the grass, something felt… off.

The air changed again.

“Do you feel that?” I asked.

“No,” Maggie snapped, though she slowed slightly.

We walked, for what e=felt like miles, muscles screaming out as we covered incline after incline, up the slope. It didn't get any closer. We didn't get any farther. I frowned, picking up my pace. The ground beneath my feet felt unstable, like stepping on something that wasn’t quite there.

“Maggie,” I said. “Stop.”

She didn’t.

“Maggie.”

“I’m not stopping,” she said. “We just need to keep going.”

“We’ve been walking too long,” Warren added.

“Try running,” Maggie said suddenly. Before we could answer, she bolted forward, running hard, kicking up sand, her figure shrinking slightly—then not at all. She wasn’t getting farther, she was just… moving, somehow, without covering any ground.

When she turned back to us, something in her face had changed.

“Tell me I moved,” she said.

“Or we can’t leave,” Warren said.

“No,” Maggie said immediately. “No, that’s not—no.”

“We tried,” he said. “We’re trying right now.”

I swallowed. “What if…” I started, then stopped.

“Say it,” Warren said.

I shook my head.

“Pete,” Maggie said. “Say it.”

I looked back at the Oasis, at the water, and the trees. A sanctuary of life blooming in a dead world, appearing to us only after we had collapsed in the sand and returned to an impossible bounty of rainfall. How one mirage had appeared, and this one had revealed itself to us right after.

“What if we didn’t make it?” I said.

Neither of them spoke.

“What if,” I continued, forcing the words out, “we died out there. And this is… what comes after.”

Maggie let out a short, sharp laugh. “That’s stupid.”

Warren didn’t laugh at all, only looking back at the Oasis.

“If this is death,” he said slowly, “it’s a strange version of it.”

“Better than the desert,” Maggie muttered.

I didn’t respond.

For once in my life, I wanted the desert back.

The three companions stood side by side, frozen by indecision. The bright scorch glared down on them.

I broke the silence first, "M-maybe we should just go back to the oasis." this experience had thoroughly unnerved me—agreement from the other two. We began the walk back. It wasn't long however, before I noticed that we weren't making any progress. our feet seemed to be sliding in place. The oasis stretched out before us, no closer than it had been five minutes ago.

"What's happening?" I exclaimed, looking over at the other two. They were stuck in place, not a muscle moved. At first I thought I had lost it. Everything around me started shifting into fragments, until the world was a blur of multicolored pieces. Then. Blackness. Falling. Falling. Eyes shut.

The first thing he became aware of was his seated posture, a chair? The air felt comfortable. The heat of the sun was entirely absent. the man opened one eye. Slow. Then the other. He found himself in the center of a dim room, strapped at the waist to a chair. The room had a concrete floor, concrete walls, and a tall ceiling. Facing him was a large mirror set into the wall. He was shirtless. multiple probes stuck off of his chest and temples. He removed them one at a time. like parasites who would retaliate. The buckle at his waist unlatched easily, falling away.

His legs were shaky as he stood. The concrete walls of the room loomed menacing and blank. He stumbled toward the mirror. What he saw shocked him. No more was the boy of sixteen. The man before him must be about twenty five, standing numerous inches taller. He was skinny but athletic. The dark hair on the mans head was overgrown. His facial hair grew scraggy. The man touched his face cautiously. Like he was touching someone else's. Pete, he thought—No. Jarrod. In his head, the desert and oasis were already fading like distant memories.

A desk along one wall had a cluster of monitors on it. One screen was still lit. He walked—now with more confidence—toward the screen. It looked like a profile page, the picture attached was that of a slightly younger, cleaner cut version of the man in the mirror. It read: Jarrod May, age twenty-six, former US CIA agent, volunteered for assignment after initiation of operation Last Hope.

The name on the profile confirmed his theory. Jarrod knew he had to find out more. He was starting to remember. The chair he was in had something to do with a great urgency. Looking around now, everything seemed still, abandoned. There was a door on the opposite end of the room. He reached it, finding it was unlocked from the inside. The hallway beyond was much like the room—cement walls, floor, hight ceilings. A plaque on the wall read: Command room, with an arrow pointing right.

Jarrod followed the direction, walking through hallways that all looked the same. He came to a double set of doors, a keypad was located on the wall. 2497, he thought. punching it in, the doors clicked open. Jarrod wasn't sure how he knew that. The command center was massive, one wall was devoted entirely to monitors, there must have been hundreds. desks and computers were scattered about. A voice recorder sat on a nearby desk. Jarrod picked it up, turning it on. there was only one file saved to the device. Jarrod pressed play.

Commotion can be heard in the background, lots of voices and loud noises. A man speaks, "Jarrod, if you're listening to this, it means you got out of there. There's a chance you may not remember anything that's happened. I don't have a lot of time, I'll try to be succinct. A meteor landed on earth, at least that's what we thought, when we acquired it, it appeared to be an alien device of some sort. Many tests later we realized this thing could power the whole planet. Energy crisis averted. The only problem: it was locked somehow. We tried everything, we couldn't crack it. We realized it was essentially simulating a whole world wrapped into a box. Thus Operation Last Hope was born. We sent three personnel into the simulation—you and two others—to crack it from the inside. Shortly after we sent you in, people started disappearing. At first it was just someone here and there. Then hundreds, thousands, millions, started vanishing each day. If you're listening to this, find out what happened, you may be our only hope. God save us all."

I have to find Warren and Maggie—or whatever their names are. Jarrod suspects the box holds the key to everyone's mysterious vanishing.