Though Kaelxi knew how to handle sandstorms, the stinging pain of grit against her skin became unbearable. She lost consciousness midway through the ordeal.

Witt saw Kaelxi’s hand slip from her mouth and nose. He snatched the cloth from her limp fingers and pressed it firmly over her face, shielding her from the choking sand.

Kaelxi had been unconscious when a suffocating pressure jolted her awake.

*"Mmmph! Mmmph!"* She clawed desperately at Witt’s arm, trying to pry it away.

"It’s okay, Kaelxi! Just hold on a little longer!" Witt thought her thrashing was from pain and kept urging her on.

"Witt... I can’t... breathe..." Kaelxi forced the words out loudly, fighting the howling wind.

"Huh? We... can’t be... husband and wife anymore?" Witt caught fragments and wildly misinterpreted her meaning.

"No, Kaelxi! It won’t happen!" Witt surged upright against the storm. Planting his feet deep in the sand, he thrust one hand toward the raging tempest. A half-human-tall shield materialized in his grip, barely holding back the onslaught.

Shield raised in one hand, the other clamped over Kaelxi’s mouth, Witt watched her agonized struggles. *No! Not enough! This shield can be stronger!* he roared inwardly. Blue mana surged from his body, pouring into the shield. It thickened, expanded—solidifying into a wall as tall as a house and thick as brickwork. Witt had never conjured anything so massive before. Perhaps his [Mana Construct] skill held untapped potential!

The sandstorm split cleanly around the barrier, parted down the middle like a perfectly combed hairstyle. Leaning his spine against the wall, Witt kept the cloth tight over Kaelxi’s face. Seeing her struggles weaken, he felt his effort rewarded.

Kaelxi was fading fast from suffocation. *He’s... going to smother me!* Tears welled uselessly. She could only gasp thin air through Witt’s fingers, too weak to speak.

When Witt’s mana finally gave out, the wall collapsed with a thunderous roar. He staggered, his grip loosening. Kaelxi gulped air—only to choke on a mouthful of sand. Coughing violently, she thrashed harder.

Witt, long past caring about the sand in his own throat, threw himself over Kaelxi. One hand sealed her nose, the other her mouth. He’d choke on grit himself before letting her breathe sand.

Kaelxi spat out the sand she’d inhaled—just as Witt’s hands sealed her face completely. No air. Her vision whitened at the edges. Her cheeks turned a bluish-purple hue. She tried biting his hand but only left trails of drool. As darkness swallowed her, her last thought echoed: *Witt... you idiot...*

Witt, choked by sand and exhaustion, passed out too. His unconscious grip loosened just enough—saving Kaelxi from being smothered by the man who loved her most.

*What would Witt think if he woke to find he’d killed her?*

.............................

The apocalyptic storm finally faded. The desert lay empty, even their shelter buried under dunes.

"*Cough!*" A head burst from the sand. Spitting grit, shaking dust from his hair, Witt emerged—filthy and exhausted. Kaelxi remained buried.

The weight lifted. Kaelxi felt her bones lighten. She shifted slightly under the sand.

Then—a large hand plunged through the grit and clamped firmly over her chest.

*Huh?* A jolt shot through her. Before she could process the strange warmth, the hand yanked her upward by that very spot.

"*Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!*"

"*Let go! Let go! Let go!*"

Tears streamed down Kaelxi’s face. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly, too weak to scream. She knew Witt was trying to save her—but *that* spot...

That tender place... *hurt*.

Witt had only felt something soft and yielding. Fingers hooked like claws, he hauled Kaelxi out with all his strength.

"*Sob...*" The oddly extracted Kaelxi sat on the sand, face buried in her hands. She shot Witt venomous glares—*pervert! creep!*—between sobs. Witt mistook her tears for relief. Oblivious to the "*opportunistic scumbag*" label now branded on his soul in her mind, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Kaelxi, don’t cry. We’re alive, see?"

"*Sob...* You’re mean... You’re a bad man..." Shame and pain twisted her voice. She wept like a truly wronged Elf maiden.

This time, no act.

The pain was real. The shame was real.

*He touched me... He felt it...*

*Another man...*

*Witt took advantage of me...*

*So embarrassing... I can’t live like this...*

Living as a girl beside Witt had eroded her old male identity. Her "corruption" ran deep.

Wearing a mask long enough makes it your face—except for Mobius.

"Huh? Why call me that?" Witt’s head spun with confusion.

"You jerk! Don’t you know what you grabbed?!" Kaelxi whirled on him, brows furrowed in fury.

"W-What?" Witt’s eyes flickered downward—toward her collar.

He froze at the sight of bruised, snow-white skin.

"Pervert! Staring isn’t enough?!" Crystal tears spilled down Kaelxi’s cheeks.