The oasis was the kind of thing they would have accused each other of hallucinating a few hours ago. A smear of green and pale blue in a wasteland that was nothing but sand, broken stone, and heat. But there it was—water pooled in a shallow basin, sunlight reflecting weakly off it, ringed by sparse reeds that looked half-dead but alive enough to matter.
No one hesitated.
They didn't exchange a look, they didn't ask if it was safe, they didn't debate. There was no caution left in them. Hunger, thirst, and exhaustion had stripped them down to instinct.
Elias was the first to buckle.
He stumbled forward past Luke, past Reina, past Silo, a quiet sound caught in his throat—something between a sob and a laugh. He fell to his hands and knees at the water's edge and cupped both palms into it. He didn't bother to rinse or sniff or check for sediment. He drank deep.
It looked painful, the way he gulped.
Water spilled down his chin as he forced more into his mouth. He coughed once, hard, then bent his face toward the surface again.
Silo dropped beside him, reaching for the water too. His hands shook so badly he could barely bring any to his lips.
Reina knelt but didn't drink right away. Her posture was strained, steadying herself with a hand on the dirt. She seemed almost afraid of how badly she needed it.
Luke reached the pool last—not because he was cautious, but because his legs were slower. He dragged himself forward, ribs aching, tongue thick in his mouth. He could barely swallow. His vision tunneled. He dipped his hand into the water—
And froze.
Not because something warned him.
Not because something felt wrong.
Just because of timing.
He happened to look sideways at Elias.
Elias leaned in again, face inches from the surface, trying to drink more deeply this time—like he wanted to breathe underwater if it meant he could drink faster.
Then it happened.
It was subtle first. A ripple—not caused by Elias. It was as if the water reacted before his lips even touched it.
The reflection warped.
Elias didn't notice. He was focused on survival, not on his mirror image.
Luke saw the distortion a second too late to do anything with it.
Instead of Elias's face reflected on the surface, something else looked back from the ripples—something vaguely shaped like him but stretched, grayish, the eyes hollowed out. The lips formed a wide grin, teeth too many, too thin.
Then it opened its mouth and screamed.
It wasn't loud like a roar.
It was sharp.
A sound with no air behind it—like metal scraping inside bone. A shriek that didn't echo across the oasis, but folded straight into their heads.
Elias jerked backwards as if pulled by invisible hands. His arms flew up, palms clawing at empty space. His eyes rolled, the pupils vanishing from sight.
He collapsed flat.
His body hit the dirt with a dull thud.
"Elias!" Luke shouted.
He crawled across the sand, knees dragging. His limbs felt weak, slower than he remembered them being even an hour ago. He grabbed Elias's shoulders and shook him. Nothing. Elias's eyes were half-open, unfocused, staring at nothing at all.
Reina flinched backward, her hand slipping into the water. She jerked away instantly, scrambling on her elbows.
"What— what was—?" she stammered.
Luke didn't answer. He wasn't processing. His brain was pinned on one thing: get Elias awake.
He slapped his cheeks lightly.
"Elias. Hey—come on, hey. Wake up."
Elias didn't stir. His lips moved slightly, muttering something under his breath. His body twitched, like a shiver, except there was no cold.
Silo stumbled back from the water entirely, nearly falling over himself.
"Did the water do that?" he gasped. "Did the water scream—?"
"It wasn't the water," Reina snapped, breathing too fast. "It was— I don't know—something in—"
She cut herself off. There was no vocabulary for what they saw.
Luke pressed his ear to Elias's chest.
His heartbeat was there—rapid and uneven—but there.
"Elias," he repeated, voice cracking. "Wake up. Come on."
Elias's fingers twitched. A low whimper escaped him. His back arched slightly, as if reacting to a nightmare only he could see.
Luke tried to drag him away from the pool, hooking his arms under Elias's armpits. But his muscles burned and trembled from dehydration. He barely managed to slide Elias a few inches across the soil.
"Help me," he said through clenched teeth. "Move him."
Silo rushed forward first, grabbing Elias's legs. They pulled, uneven, awkward. Elias's boots dragged twin tracks through the sand.
Reina hesitated—only a second—but it was hesitation all the same. She finally grabbed his shoulder and helped pull him further from the water.
They didn't know why it mattered to be away from the edge, but every instinct screamed distance.
Once Elias was a few meters back, they let go.
He looked broken, limp except for the occasional violent twitch of his limbs. His eyelids trembled. His mouth moved like someone whispering to ghosts.
Luke leaned over him again, panicked.
"Elias—listen to me. Can you hear me?"
No response.
His body jerked so hard that his teeth snapped together with an audible click. Luke flinched and pinned his waist to keep him from thrashing.
This wasn't sickness. This wasn't heatstroke. This was something else.
Silo pressed both hands against his head.
"Is he—dying?"
"No," Luke said quickly. Too quickly. He needed it to be true. "He's breathing."
Reina crouched beside them, hands braced on her knees.
"Something did this," she said. There was no confidence in her voice—just disbelief. "The water… the reflection… or—"
She swallowed.
The reflection.
Luke hadn't let himself think about it. Now he did. And he wished he hadn't.
He had seen two faces in the water. Elias—and the thing wearing his shape.
No one spoke for several seconds. They stared at Elias, waiting for something to change. Waiting for him to come back.
The wind carried a dry, hissing sound through the grass.
Luke looked at Reina.
"What do we do?"
She didn't have an answer.
She shook her head slowly.
And that terrified him more than anything else.
He looked down at Elias again.
Elias's breathing was shallow and uneven. His fingers dug into the dirt, nails scraping grooves. His jaw clenched as if he was trying to scream—but no voice came out.
Luke placed both hands gently on the sides of his face.
"It's okay," he whispered. "You're okay. You're—"
A shadow shifted across the oasis.
A voice called out from above them, casual, calm, almost bored:
"You should probably get him away from there."
They all turned.
A figure stood perched atop a massive boulder a short distance away, arms folded —like someone who had seen this all before and wasn't surprised.