It's been exactly 17 days, 4 hours, 38 minutes, and 47 seconds since we left on this suicide mission. Or around there anyways, considering my watch died at least six suns ago.

I'm still fuming over the fact that something as little as stealing an extra apple in the lunch que would result in scouting duty.

Yet here I am. Trudging through the dunes with a group of sweaty dudes. The salt so thick from all my sweat that my skin is essentially sandpaper.

We travel at night to avoid the dangers of the blazing sun. But even night in this wasteland is hotter than Satan's ball sack. There's no moon tonight, but the mounds upon mounds of sand still glow under the light of the stars.

"How much farther do we need to go?" I ask for probably the millionth time. Jonah is probably sick of my shit. Not that I care. I didn't choose to be here like this arsehole did.

He smiles at me and responds for, you guessed it, the millionth time, "Not long."

Not yet sick of my shit then. Right-o. "How long?"

Jonah turns around and looks ahead of our crew. He pauses, and turns back toward me. "Not long at all. Our destination is right over that dune."

The other six men in our group perk up at the same time. They exchange smiles and sighs of relief. We've reached our destination. I still don't entirely know what that is.

"Now that we're here, where are we exactly?" I ask Jonah.

"The Gin's Temple." Jonah whispers.

"And that is?" Getting any information out of this man is like pulling teeth with tweezers. Dull tweezers.

"Where wishes come true. If you're chosen, that is." Mattias speaks up from behind me.

"We came all this way. For some motherfucking wishes?" I yell? "What are we, school children? I've been walking for days, well nights. Whatever. To fulfill some childhood fantasy?!" I'm going to kill them. We've done some dumb shit trying to return back to some resemblance of normal. But this. This is fucking rubbish.

"Not a childhood fantasy, Rori." Jonah says in that excessively quiet voice of his.

"What some wish is going to magically return our dead families back to us? Spontaneously erase the Plague from history?" I can't believe him.

"Something like that." He starts, "If the Gin finds your soul pure, and your deepest desire even purer, they'll grant your wish. Whatever you want most."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound like a pipedream at all." I mumble.

Everyone in our group has a new spring in their step. Even I can't help the new found vigor. Once we get this over with I get to go back home.

We approach the temple, it's huge. Not at all glamorous, but huge. For the Temple of the Gin I would've expected grand statues, intricate design work, or even a golden brick road for crying out loud. But this looks like a glorified brick. Just one large cube with a doublewide door the size of a dune itself.

"So, do we just waltz right in to the Temple of His Fakeness or is there some special knock?" The men around me groan, but Jonah keeps on smiling. Annoying.

He doesn't even need to answer. The door opens on its own.