The next day, Oso and the three families that agreed to battle the dragon with his own family sent out scouts to figure out where the dragon had vanished to.
Salem, unaware of this, proposed they try flying to another continent to see how different people would be on that continent.
"Back in my homeworld, there were seven continents." Salem roughly sketched a map of his home and circled each continent. "Six of these continents were inhabited. Antarctica was only occupied by research teams.
"Every continent had different accessable resources and so everything from traditional foods to religion differed even across cities."
"So you want to see how people act on a different continent?" Alina tilted her head.
"I do, and that's because I want to see how people's mentalities and behaviors differ based upon their region." Salem explained. "We've gathered that over here, people are entitled and demand more from those beneath them; likely due to an abundance of resources, and their families having power. What would be different across the globe?"
....
"Damn it!" Oso destroyed his second table for that week. "How can a dragon dissapear?"
"Perhaps it has a den." Oso's servant suggested. "Perhaps it is dwelking underground."
"If its den is underground, fighting the dragon might be harder than I thought." Oso scratched his chin.
"The Terra family would hold an advantage then." Oso's servant nodded. "Perhaps we find a way to lure it out."
"No." Oso smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Any being, be it man, beast, reptile, or bug will need to find food."
"We'll attack it when it returns from its hunt." Oso cackled madly. "It'll be tired from hunting and not on guard. It's the perfect time for an ambush."
"All we have to do is find its den." Oso's servant began getting excited.
....
That night, Salem dreamed of endless massacre, of unending night, and of the will of the machines.
In his dream, he was fleeing from the scythe of Death, along with thousands of machines.
Salem ran frantically, his only goal being escape.
"Just run until daybreak!" One of the machine's cold, robotic voices told him. "Our powercells won't last until morning, so we'll die so you may live."
Salem opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't.
He looked down at himself and found he was wearing clothing that was in the same state as when he woke in his first world.
His charred shirt, entirely unrecognizable -were it not for the fact that he was wearing it- was burnt into his blackened and weeping flesh.
His pants were a burnt pattern onto his legs that was only broken by the cracks in his flesh that were oozing blood and pus.
Every step worsened the wounds, causing him unbearable pain; but he couldn't stop. Death was coming.
Salem's consciousness became a haze of pain and fear as he bent his head and pushed forward.
He thought of Alina and Ruby, and resolved that he would not die that night. He couldn't. He had to at least survive long enough to say goodbye.
No matter how fast Salem ran, he couldn't escape. Death always seemed to be right on his heels.
Even when his wounds forced him to slow to a staggering jog, Salem's pace still was matched by death.
Only when he was no longer able to run did Death finally take him.