Laying on the ground or, better said sand, your body ached sore. You couldn't hear anything. The atmosphere was dense. You were probably dead. But, how?

You could remember freshly what had happened. You weren't unconscious.

A bunch of soldiers attacked you. You fought back. Some blood here and there and once you sighed victorious while observing the laying bodies around you, you caught a glimpse of one of them touching you with somewhat of an electric stick.

Now you were here.

You looked up, sitting on the ground. What the hell was this place?

You walked a few minutes, trying to understand where you were. Trying to use your powers to go back home, but they could only function to get you a mile or two away from your current position. In the same dessertic abysm.

A person. A man, with a cape. You were facing Death, probably. But, that only meant you were dead already. So you approached running.

"Hey, you!"

The man faced you, and you saw that gaze in his eyes. Fuck.

He raised his hand, feet in a combat position, and fire emerged from his fingers. Which he directed towards you.

"Fucker!" You shifted behind him before the fireball could get to you, and he turned looking for you, ready to continue fighting when he saw where you were now.

"What do you want?" He questioned in a fiery tone, his voice husky.