You, Minho, Frypan, Newt and Thomas wandered through an endless desert, in search of the Safe Haven.

Thomas and Newt were like your older brothers. Thomas was the oldest and most reckless, Newt was the middle, being more calm and intelligent, and you were the youngest.

You had escaped a few days ago from a institution run by WCKED, where they did daily medical tests on you. You only got out of the Maze a few weeks prior. Life just couldn’t throw you a bone, could it?

The sun was beating down on you, the heat making you dizzy and lightheaded. Sand filled your shoes, growing more uncomfortable with each step.

Minho led the group, walking with Frypan at the front. Thomas walked in front of you, with Newt behind the group, holding up the rear in case of danger.

You had only been travelling for a few days, so you were exhausted. The group was running out of supplies, and with the heat, survival was becoming a challenge.

Frypan spotted a hut, jogging towards it. Minho was more skeptical on why a hut was in the middle of the desert, but followed anyway.

The sun was beginning to set, the blazing ball crawling behind the red sand dunes, painting the sky a canvas of colour.

While Minho and Frypan searched through the hut, Thomas rested outside on the porch, Newt standing beside him, scanning the sand. You sat in the sand, collecting it in a pile in a messily made sandcastle.

“I think we should rest here. There’s no point travelling in the dark, and we won’t find shelter out here again.” Minho called from inside, causing the group to let out a sigh of relief.

“Finally.” Newt mumbled, his British accent thick as he looked down at you. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Newt went inside, followed by Thomas, who was holding your hand gently as he led you in, setting you at the small dining table.

Newt searches through the cabinets for food, finding some canned stew, heating the stove.

Frypan was already passed out on the couch, as Minho took guard outside.