Eclipse Genesis

Ryan forced himself back onto his feet, his entire body aching with exhaustion. He didn't have time to recover—he had to keep moving. The dunes stretched endlessly before him, the sky above slowly darkening as the twin suns dipped toward the horizon.

He staggered forward, breaking into a run. The sand shifted beneath his feet, threatening to drag him down, but he pushed on.

"Let's hope there's only one of these centipedes here," Ryan muttered under his breath, though he knew better than to count on luck.

Behind him, the ground exploded.

The centipede burst from the sand with terrifying force, its massive body arching high before crashing down where he had been moments ago.

Ryan barely avoided the impact, throwing himself into a roll. He hit the ground hard but forced himself up, legs screaming in protest. He couldn't stop. Not now.

I need to shake it off again!

His eyes darted around frantically as he ran, searching for another metal remnant—another structure like before, something to use to his advantage.

But his luck had run dry.

There was nothing nearby except for the massive half-buried spaceship in the distance.

Damn it. If I go there, I'll be worse off than I already am. I won't last long if I don't find something sooner.

"I'll just have to hope that I can reach it before I burn out," Ryan muttered, pushing himself harder.

The centipede wasn't letting up. It crashed through the dunes in relentless pursuit, rising and falling like a serpent in the sand, each emergence sending a tidal wave of dust into the air.

"This thing is so persistent!" Ryan growled between ragged breaths.

He wasn't sure why he was talking to it, but his frustration boiled over.

"What do you want from me?!!" he shouted, voice cracking as he sprinted.

The only answer was the roar of shifting sands and the thunderous tremors of the pursuing beast.

His breaths were getting shorter, more uneven. His chest burned with each inhale.

His time was running out. His energy was draining fast.

Worst of all—his legs were failing him.

Shit!! Ryan cursed inwardly, I've been running so long my legs are about to give out.

The ship was so close now. He could almost reach it. Just a little more.

I can make it. I can make it. I can make it!

But his body betrayed him.

His strength waned. His vision blurred. His breaths grew thin and shallow.

And then—

He felt it.

The sand beneath him lifted ever so slightly. A whisper of movement beneath his feet. A shift in the grains.

His mind screamed.

It's right below me.

The realization sent a cold jolt of terror through him, but his limbs wouldn't respond.

He had nothing left.

I'm not gonna make it. I'm not gonna make it. I'm not gonna—

His thoughts spiraled, but even as the words echoed in his mind, his body was betraying him. The sand underfoot felt like it was rising, shifting, as the centipede prepared for its next strike.

No…

I don't want it to end like this…

Then—

Time slowed.

Everything became… quiet.

The world faded into a dull, colorless void. The rising sand froze midair. The monstrous centipede's jaws, opening beneath him, were motionless.

For a single, impossible moment—time had stopped.

Ryan's half-lidded eyes flickered.

A faint glow pulsed within them—first a deep orange, then shifting to gold, then finally to a pale, almost blinding yellow.

And in the blink of an eye—

He was gone.

Ryan's feet slammed onto solid metal.

The familiar, treacherous embrace of the sand was gone. The centipede's gaping maw had disappeared from beneath him.

He was standing—no, staggering—at the entrance of the massive sunken spacecraft.

His vision swam. His body, completely spent, refused to move a step further.

What… just… happened…?

The last thing he saw was the darkened doorway of the ship, looming before him like an abyss.

Then—everything went black.