Notes

This dimension is full of ash and soot.

Distantly, he can hear a volcano erupting. Through the cloth that could barely be called shoes, he can feel the uneven, jagged surface of warm rocks that scrape the soles of his feet. He could feel his skin burning up, and he wonders why he hadn't start sweating. It's hard seeing through the ash, so thick it blocks out the sky, with the only light not from the sun, but from the lava running through the cracks in the ground, and as the wind starts to pick up, he resists the urge to cough out asphalt.

In his hands, he clutches his bag of Excess tighter.

They can't just drop the Excess anywhere - the dimension won't accept it. It has to be made in a way that it seems natural in the dimension.

"An oasis will do," says the one that brought them here. Wisely, he doesn't question what an oasis is.

A sound is heard overhead, a mix between bones crackling and a deep rumble. No one needs to look up, as they already know what it is - creatures as tall as mountains soar above them, pitch black and covered in impenetrable armor. It must have spotted them, their white clothes standing out from the black and red. He regrets having all their clothing be white, but knows that they rarely can spend the time to dye such things.

They run for cover. He hides underneath a large boulder. One person, small and unable to carry their bag of Excess properly, is stuck in the open. Too slow. Their eyes wide as they hear a sound somewhere between a shriek and a roar, before the mass of pure black descends on them with a sickening /crunch/.

The leftover remains fall on the ground with a /splat/ and their bag of Excess spills open - revealing pure spring water and saturated green plants, pure and untouched, before being quickly swallowed by the elements.

He turns away, uninterested, (though why does he taste bile in his throat?) and slips a small rock into his shoe.