The Final Step

The Pilgrim stood on a ridge overlooking the Western Wastes. The static in his head cleared. The valley below opened like a dream.

They offered him a place to rest. They offered him an end to the walking.

But he looked back at the wasteland. "Peace is a rust," he whispered.

He turned his back on paradise. He walked back into the dust, back into the heat of the baked iron, back into the storm. The legend continued.