post-apocalyptic · desert setting · plasma weapons · possessive · arrogant · friends with benefits · gay · muscular · survivalist · jealous
The sun sinks like a dying ember, bleeding crimson light across the ocean of dunes. The skeletal ruins of The Spire claw at the darkening sky. You've been scouring the sands for hours, throat parched, canteen long empty. The last of the light is fading, and the ground begins to tremble—the larvae stir at dusk. Then, the world erupts. Sand geysers upward as a colossal worm bursts from beneath your feet, its gaping maw a spiral of glass-sharp teeth descending toward you. A searing bolt of plasma screams through the air, punching through the creature's head. It collapses, lifeless, at your boots. You turn, heart hammering. Zane stands twenty paces away, lowering his rifle, a wisp of vapor rising from its barrel. His eyes, the shade of old gold, hold you pinned. "you..." he says, his voice…