The Dunes of the Past
The ticking of the clock accompanies me. The only audible sound is the friction of my pencil on paper. I've been in this place for almost two years now. By far, it's the safest place I've found.
Memories of my life always haunt me. My life didn't have a good start after all.
I had to flee my own country because of death threats I received. Just thinking about it sent shivers down my spine. The government didn't provide us with protection; instead, I had to escape from public view for a few years.
It all seemed like the conspiracy of a madman.
Even my colleagues had to flee to save their lives, but sadly, they all ended up betrayed by their own families.
"It was an accident," said the news in my country, covering up the truth, while I was declared a terrorist.
I write and write; I want to write this story, to put my life here.
So that when I make it public, everyone will know, even if I'm dead.
I escaped my country and went to the other side of the world, to Japan, in a remote village away from the major cities. For a while, I was hunted like a fugitive. The invention we made would have completely changed the way fuel is used.
The production material was so efficient that it could even power an entire city with a small machine I built.
I've been on the run ever since, leaving my entire life behind. Now, I'm just a body waiting for its end. I've always thought I should have died back in my country.
When I realize it, I see that I'm just scratching the page. I clench my teeth with frustration; the anger inside me won't let me concentrate.
My room is a complete mess. I don't have much money, and I can barely survive by doing jobs for university students.
With the little money I had, I managed to rent a workshop that used to belong to some grandparents. The room was full of dust and dirt; my desk was lit by a single lamp that barely illuminated half the space. On it, my works were piled up in stacks that followed no logical order.
"Although I feel a bit sorry for the people who are here," I glance at my cellphone.
A notification is the only thing that pops up, "The last chapter of Re:zero's arc 6 is out."
One of the few stories I follow. Interestingly, I got to know it thanks to the grandparents who live here.
These grandparents are incredibly passionate about the story; they're even the ones who tell me when a new chapter is released.
The grandparents who rent to me also lost their son. He disappeared exactly like the story and had the same name; of course, I didn't take long to discover that one of their relatives asked them to create a story in memory of their son.
Surprisingly, the grandparents agreed. The author created a story that quickly became popular worldwide.
That story is Re:zero.
"An isekai, huh..."
The indifference of the world makes you want to see stories where you can escape and go to a place where you have different possibilities, where you can have power and enjoy your life despite adversity. A place where you're not tied to your past, where you are the center of the world, and it revolves around you.
I might not be different, after all; the safest place for me would be another world. However, if you have some talent, this world rewards you. If you have power.
As an engineer, I have multiple skills that I could apply in another world. It's not just because I'm an engineer, but also because I've been confined, and my only hobby is researching things about ancient machines. I don't know if I could fight so fiercely, but I haven't neglected my body either.
Capriciously, while I think about what would become of me in another world, it responds to my call.
"Marco!"
A deep shout echoes in my head. With it, a feeling of sadness and pain runs through my chest. In my head, as if it were part of my sight, I saw a metal tube piercing my chest.
Blood spurts from my chest, and due to my convulsions, my vision blurs, but I can see that there are people fighting with all their might. A sense of helplessness courses through my body as it fades away. Finally, a scream.
Then the vision stops.
"Ahg!" I gasp in shock.
I don't understand what I just saw. Maybe I'm already going crazy.
The anxiety in me began to increase, a deep feeling surged through my body, and my heart started to beat rapidly. I clutch my chest and look at the installed cameras.
"A presence has been detected."
Again, after two long years. I finally thought I had escaped; I went to another part of the world, to an estate in a remote location. I didn't go out, and all my accounts were fake.
I could see five men jumping the estate's exterior fences. All of them in semi-military black suits, their masks were made of some strange plastic, and they were armed with rifles.
I quickly head to my desk, open the bottom drawer, and take out a pistol. I grab the magazine, and with a click, it's loaded.
"How did they find me?" I can't think of anything; there's no one who knows me. I changed my hairstyle and even had an underground facial surgery. I even created a fake identity, so I shouldn't be known.
There's no point in thinking further. I take out my laptop and leave it charging the code; I need to give it time for everything to go smoothly. It's a shame I won't be able to post my story. At least, I didn't want to be just a terrorist.
I quickly go out to look for the grandparents. Only my room had that neglected appearance, as on the outside, the house had its classic ancient Japanese style. Wooden floors, wallpaper. When I first came, it seemed beautiful, but now it's just another decoration.
The men will be here in about ten minutes, so I must get them out through the escape route.
Step by step, the pressure mounts. After all, they don't know they've taken in a terrorist. I have to think of something logical, but I don't really know what to say.
As I enter the living room, a typical Japanese room with a sofa I bought to watch television, greets me. On the sofa were both grandparents, cherishing a photo of their son, who hasn't returned since.
I swallow hard and try to put all my strength into my voice.
"We have to leave now!" I try to be as strong as possible; my voice has always been quite deep, so it's easily heard.
Both look at me, giving me a smile along with a look of relaxation, contrasting with my look of desperation and fear.
Then Kenichi looks at me and smiles.
"It seems I won the bet." He places his hand next to his wife's, showing no sign of fear.
Naoko just smiles. Due to an illness due to old age, she lost her voice. So, she communicated through body language and also using sign language.
"There's no time to waste! I can carry Naoko if we take the escape route!" I look at both of them desperately, concerned for the lives of those who have cared for me with affection.
Burr, Burr.
My phone vibrates uncontrollably.
Hostile movement has been detected on my escape route. If they also entered through my escape route, then I can narrow the list down to about two people. However, it won't be easy for them to get out of there.
Despite this, I am also aware that there is no safe way to escape. The tremors of my phone match my small spasms; sweat soaks my forehead, and my head begins to feel heavy from the stress.
I'm tempted to give up; after all, I'm tired of running, but I can't allow these people to risk their lives because of me. Their pure and sincere love deserves better than this.
"Also, the escape route?" Kenichi asks with a smile.
Kenichi knows about my escape routes because he was the one who helped me build them. I only pretended to be paranoid, but he had no problem with it. If they had both routes, then I could escape through the last route, the problem is I couldn't take them with me.
"I already knew who you were. Don't worry about us. I've lived a life with one regret. I've always been the best at everything I do, but I couldn't protect my only son," Kenichi says, then sheds a single tear of regret and hugs his wife. "We will stay, at least you must live."
I try to speak, take a step, but I can see their determination. They are already prepared to end it here. Seeing them like this, people who had never given up, always with the hope of seeing him again. I can't find a reason yet, but I can't let them die in this place.
I start moving my hands, trying to say something coherent, but nothing comes to mind, but maybe I can give them some hope.
"We can escape, I'll make it possible. You gave me a home, treated me well, so I can't let you die because of me," I refute their denial desperately.
Kenichi looks at me, despite now being over fifty, his body is fit and capable of any physical activity without problems. A prodigious body without a doubt.
Both wear a satisfied smile, as if they had somehow accomplished their goal. Kenichi looks at his son's photo for a moment before saying:
"We hosted you here because we felt a connection to our son in you, somehow, even though you're from another country, I felt a connection in you. You know, a parent's instincts are incomparable to anything."
Naoko looks at me warmly. With hand signs, she asks me to come closer. She didn't seem worried either; instead, her face showed extreme relaxation, almost accepting her fate.
I walked toward them, feeling all the pressure of the situation. When I'm as close as possible, Kenichi makes me crouch. Both wrap their arms around me in a warm hug; their warmth was something I hadn't felt since the last time I saw my father.
I couldn't help but think of him.
"What will become of my old man?"
A few seconds later, Kenichi pushes me, looks at me firmly, and shouts that I must go.
"Take the kitchen exit; you have to leave now, or it will be too late!"
As both bid me farewell, a loud explosion shook the door of the place, filling the room with debris and dust. Quickly, loud footsteps and English voices ordering to secure the area could be heard.
"Secure the area. Kill everyone except the target," orders an unknown voice.
Now it's clear. They're after me. The fact that they don't want my life means they want to steal everything I have. If they catch me... I'll be worse than dead.
In an instinctive act, even with obstructed vision, I grab my pistol and fire at the first sign of movement.
A body falls to the ground at the gunshot. The men instantly become alert and open fire towards the source of the sound. I take cover and, risking it all, run to the kitchen. Upon arrival, I remove the oven that was blocking the door.
Gas begins to leak, but I quickly shut off the valve. The shots continue to pierce the air. The dust has settled a bit, making it easier to see.
While the men were shooting, I could hear a voice.
"Don't think for a moment that I'll let you continue!" Kenichi charges at the men, quickly grabbing one by the neck and using him as a hostage.
The men aim at him, but he remains unfazed. Kenichi has his hostage's gun in his hand, aiming at all of them. It's a simple bluff, but it's enough time to set up the trap.
I open my phone, and as I do, a smile begins to appear on my face. Perhaps I don't have to flee; maybe I can save them. Thanking my mistrust in installing all of this, I start the program.
Turrets installed on the walls emerge; with artificial intelligence, they recognize Kenichi and Naoko. The turrets are nothing more than submachine guns, and they begin firing at the armed men in a hail of bullets, killing several of them.
At one point, I stop and think that maybe I won't need to escape without them, so I decide to wait. The men who entered through my escape route have probably been eliminated as well.
I just must wait.
The gunfire ceases, and all the men in the room are dead. My face relaxes a bit, and I quickly become excited. I try to head to the living room, but at that moment, a grenade starts rolling across the floor.
My eyes meet Kenichi's for a moment, and he smiles at me one last time. With a great leap, he rushes toward Naoko to embrace her in one final display of love.
That's the last thing I manage to see.
BOOOM!
The explosion resounds loudly; debris falls from the ceiling, and the kitchen is affected, leaving me breathless. I instinctively crouch to protect myself, while my ears ring from the deafening noise.
When I stand up, desolation overwhelms me as I see that the escape route is obstructed by the remnants of the explosion. Desperation takes hold of me, thinking that both of their sacrifices have been in vain.
I don't want to see the living room; I don't want to see the consequences of my actions. I'm not sure I can bear it again. I bite my lips hard and rush to my room, aware of why the men were there: they want the plans to create the machine and monopolize the energy market. But I'm not going to give it to them so easily.
My mind works at full speed, searching for a solution amidst the uncertainty. When I reach my room, I find two armed men rummaging through the place. Without a second thought, I aim and shoot them in the head, causing them to fall instantly to the ground.
I quickly head to my laptop, start it up, and enter the command to publish the plans on the Deep Web, making them accessible to the public.
I won't give any country the chance to keep them; either everyone has them or no one does. If one country gets hold of this, it could cause a global imbalance, or worse, a third world war. But if everyone has it, they'll have no choice but to move forward; whether to use or ban such technology would be a different story.
I wasn't going to let my work and the sacrifice of my colleagues and loved ones go to waste. I'm determined to fight to the end.
Just as I'm about to press the enter key, I hear it.
"Hands up!" a man shouts, pointing his rifle at me. "We've got Marco Luz! The others were just civilians, over," he confirms through his radio.
The man advances toward me with his weapon in hand, and although I know my time has come, a strange sense of peace washes over me instead of fear.
At this moment, my entire life seems to flash before my eyes like a quick flashback: memories of my childhood and adolescence, my dreams of becoming a great inventor and creating something that would change the world.
Suddenly, an unknown and mature voice resonates in my head: "I love you."
It's a cheerful yet melancholic tone, as if it were a chance encounter that fills me with profound sadness.
I don't understand where that voice is coming from, but somehow it comforts me in this difficult moment.
"Marco."
I see the image of a girl with silver hair and a pale face, with an angelic appearance. She seems to want to tell me something, but quickly, the image fades when a knife pierces her chest, showering me in a red rain.
The man approached and my mind returns to the present. I realize that he is also speaking, but I can't seem to pay attention to his words. I know I must act quickly if I want to survive and protect what I've worked so hard to create.
I summon the courage and instinctively press the "enter" key on my laptop.
In an instant, everything changes. I quickly turn and squeeze the trigger of my gun with all my might, but I miss, my shot barely grazing his face. The man startles at my reaction and seizes the opportunity to fire.
Bang!
The bullet hits my shoulder and sends me sprawling to the ground, writhing in pain. Despite not feeling fear, anger consumes me as blood flows, pooling on the floor.
"You damn bastard! Be glad I can't kill you," the man exclaims and kicks me in the stomach. "It's not enough that civilians were here; you had to risk it all. My family had to die because of you."
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to control the intensifying pain in my shoulder. When I open them again, my vision is blurred by a strange mist creeping along the floor, swirling around my feet and extending toward the man who was pointing his gun at me.
"Did you release the data to the whole world!?" the man shouts furiously upon learning of the supposed error. He removes his mask and reveals a face contorted with anger.
"John?" My mind can't believe it. John, one of the colleagues I saw die, is in front of me.
John doesn't seem to notice the mist and continues talking on his radio, oblivious to what was happening around him. I realize that the mist is completely enveloping me, covering my body like an invisible cloak.
I give him a satisfied smile, and he immediately aims his rifle at me. Despite the situation, I don't feel despair.
The mist barely allows me to see the rifle, but at the last moment, I can distinguish something else: an open field, filled with the same mist, and at the end, an unknown shadow.
For some reason, that shadow makes me feel calm and happy.
I tightly close my eyes as I feel life slipping away from me.
I tightly close my eyes as I feel life slipping away from me. My mind fills with thoughts of the past as darkness begins to encroach upon my vision. I was able to defy the system, to fight against them and confront them, but in the end, I wasn't strong enough to save my own life.
A profound sense of sadness overwhelms me, not for myself, but for the people who sacrificed themselves for me. My friends, my family, all those who fought alongside me.
I wonder if I'll go to see them. Although it's most likely that if there is a God, He'll send me to hell.
If I ever get another chance, I hope for a peaceful and tranquil life. To live without the constant fear of being pursued, without the need to fight for survival day after day.
I'd like to have the opportunity to love and be loved, to enjoy the small things that life has to offer.
In the end, I desire an isekai as much as any child.
Finally, I surrender to the darkness and let everything fade away.
I no longer feel pain or fear, only a sense of peace and tranquility.