Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!

"Hey, Leon…" Evelyn's voice stuttered, fragile and trembling like glass about to shatter. Her pale fingers, thin, almost trembling, extended outward, pointing toward something monstrous crawling from the horizon.

Both Leon and Celeste immediately stopped their idle conversation, their movements stiffening. Slowly, almost unwillingly, they followed the line of Evelyn's finger.

And the moment their eyes landed on it, their pupils constricted to pinpricks.

A maelstrom. No! something beyond that. A storm, but alive.

It had taken the shape of a vast, sentient sphere—an impossible globe of sand and dust, rolling forward with a presence so crushing it seemed to bend the world itself.

Compared to this abomination, Leon's conjured blizzard and even the Dissect Scorpions' swirling chaos were no more than a child's tantrum.

It was vast. Incredibly vast. Wherever the eye wandered, it found no end to its dominion. The horizon was drowned, swallowed whole by its body. The air quivered beneath its movement.

Even from thousands of meters away, they could hear it, feel it—the deep, guttural roar of grinding sands, an endless ocean of grit and fury grinding against itself at speeds that mocked sanity.

Just standing there, even at such a distance, was enough. A shudder crawled down each of their spines, cold and merciless.

Mia's throat clicked. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as if all the moisture had been stolen by that storm. Her heart pounded, yet beneath the terror was something else, something sharp, hungry.

Yes. This was it.

This was exactly what she needed.

The thing that stood before her, the Sand Globe, a beast ranked ★★★★★★★★, the crowned predator of Deathland itself. If she could kill it, if she could somehow cut it down, she could bring him back. Her brother.

Her ecstasy surged in her chest, a wild heat that contrasted violently against her trembling legs. She wanted to scream with joy. She wanted to laugh like a maniac.

And yet, her body betrayed her. Her knees buckled, her calves quivered. She couldn't stop her legs from wobbling, as though the mere act of looking at the Sand Globe drained her of all strength.

Suddenly, a tug.

Her wide eyes dropped to her arm. Verena's hand was there, holding her firmly yet with a gentleness.

For an instant, Mia's lips tightened, her eyes narrowing with a faint resistance. But then—she exhaled. Her gaze softened, her shoulders loosening as if remembering something.

"Verena," Mia whispered, forcing a smile that was far too brittle to be real. "I can run by myself. Focus on saving yourself."

But that smile—it wasn't reassuring. It wasn't comforting. It was a blade, twisted cruelly into Verena's chest.

Because Verena wasn't a fool. She could see it, as plain as day. Mia was pushing her away. Creating gaps. Drawing invisible lines. Separating herself piece by piece.

It hurt.

Even if Mia hadn't considered her precious, for Verena, Mia was everything. Her closest companion. Her most irreplaceable friend. And watching her drift away, choosing distance, choosing danger, choosing death… it was agony.

Yet Verena let go. She loosened her grip with all the gentleness she could muster and smiled, even though the corners of her lips trembled.

"Why are we standing here?" she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "Shouldn't we be moving away? Why are you all… why are you just staring at that thing?"

But her words fell into silence. Her companions remained still—too still. Their bodies didn't even flinch. It was as if they had turned to stone.

A throbbing vein ticked across her forehead. Frustration welled inside her chest as the storm raged louder and louder. She clicked her tongue and stomped forward, grabbing Leon's arm to drag him out of his trance—

Only to freeze herself.

His skin. Cold. His body was ice, a sharpness so unnatural it sent knives into her fingers the instant she touched him. For one horrifying second, she wondered if he was already dead.

Her breath hitched. Her eyes shrunk. Color drained from her face until she looked like a ghost.

"What the hell…?" she muttered, but the words barely left her lips.

Her panic only grew as she stumbled to Celeste, then Evelyn. She shook them, called out their names. No response.

Their faces were pale, eyes wide and glassy, frozen in statuesque horror. With each failed attempt, her heart sank deeper into a pit of dread.

Her mind raced, trying to piece together an answer, any answer. But there were none. Just questions spinning in circles.

"They looked…" Mia's voice broke through the storm's roar, soft yet cutting, like a whisper directly into Verena's ear.

Verena turned, eyes wide. "What?"

"They looked at the maelstrom's eye," Mia said, her lips trembling yet firm, her eyes shadowed by something grim. "That was their mistake."

Mia shrugged, her shoulders slightly hunched, as though trying to bury her own trembling under indifference.

"That's its property…" she said, her tone disturbingly casual for the horror before them. "The Sand Globe has a passive skill—[Immovable]. It grants it the power to turn anything, or anyone, who lays eyes on its true body… the spherical core. One glance, and they're frozen. Flesh and will, turned into statues."

Her words carried the finality of a death sentence.

Verena's face drained of color, but unlike the others she still had control over her thoughts. Fear gnawed at her gut, yet her mind clung to reason, desperate for solutions.

"So then, how do we turn them back?" she asked quickly, her words rushed and clipped. "Do we take them away? Or is there some other countermeasure in play?"

"No." Mia's head shook firmly. Her tone sharpened, leaving no room for hesitation. "You were right the first time. We need to drag them out of its range. Once they're away from its influence, their bodies will revert."

For a brief heartbeat, hope flickered. Verena's eyes lit, the faintest trace of relief dawning, only to gutter out almost immediately. Her gaze flicked back to the three frozen bodies, Leon, Celeste, Evelyn.

Her stomach dropped.

She could only carry two.

Her throat tightened. Her body stiffened. The calculation was cruel and immediate: one of them would have to be left behind.

The idea of Mia helping didn't even cross her mind. Mia was slight, fragile—useless when it came to physical labor. Verena could already see her collapsing under the weight of even Evelyn's small frame.

"Tsk…" Verena's teeth ground audibly as she clicked her tongue. Her hands clawed through her own scalp, fingers pressing so hard she nearly ripped strands of hair out.

Panic was closing in, crushing her chest. The thought of screaming for help, of shouting for the other party, blared in her skull.

But reality stamped it out.

They were too deep into Deathland. Even if the others could hear, by the time they arrived, it would already be too late. Waiting was nothing more than gambling with death, and the Sand Globe was not a dealer anyone could outplay.

"Shit…" The curse left her lips ragged, bitter. She was standing at the edge of a blade, forced to choose who lived and who would be left to fate.

"Pick Celeste and Evelyn," Mia said suddenly.

Her voice was calm. Too calm. Conviction radiated from every syllable. That calmness chilled Verena far more than the storm itself.

She turned, eyes wide, staring at Mia as if she'd sprouted horns. "You're seriously telling me to leave Leon?"

Before Verena could spit her outrage, Mia stepped closer, pushing her hands firmly against Verena's. Her gaze didn't waver.

"Trust me on this. Leon doesn't need your help. He'll be fine." Her lips curved in something between a grim smile and a warning. "The ones in genuine need… are them."

The certainty in her tone rattled Verena. How could she say that? Leon was frozen like the rest, what made him any different? Yet… something in Mia's voice made it hard to argue.

And, if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't really trust that swayed her.

It was the relief of not having to choose.

Someone else had chosen for her. Someone else had taken the responsibility, the burden, the guilt. If Leon was left behind, if something happened to him, then at least it wouldn't rest solely on her conscience. She would have an alibi, someone to blame, someone to lean on.

Her jaw tightened. With a firm nod, she forced herself forward.

She crouched down, hooking Celeste over one shoulder and pulling Evelyn against the other side. Their frozen bodies were heavy, unnaturally so, but Verena didn't waste a breath complaining. She gritted her teeth, bent her knees, and surged upright, muscles screaming against the strain.

"Move," she barked.

Mia nodded quickly, no hesitation in her steps as she darted forward. Together, they sprinted, their figures tearing across the golden grains.

Sand flew with every step, but above them, the once-bright sky was already vanishing, consumed by the dust-laden storm creeping closer from the Sand Globe. The sunlight fractured into embers, dimmed and choked by that living fog.

Their figures grew smaller, swallowed by the horizon, leaving only one behind.

Leon.

At first, he was still, his body rigid like stone. But then—

A shudder ran through him. His shoulders twitched. His eyes, vacant and glassy, rolled and focused with agonizing slowness. A spark of clarity surfaced—but it carried with it something else.

Pain.

Deep. Violent. Absolute.

"AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream tore out of his throat raw, unrestrained, echoing across the dunes. His voice cracked, guttural and high all at once.

His body convulsed, spasming in grotesque waves. Muscles writhed as if trying to tear free from his bones. His flesh rippled unnaturally, veins bulging and pulsing like snakes beneath his skin. Nerves sparked, firing wildly, sending lightning agony through every fiber of his being.

His bones groaned, grinding audibly as if something inside was twisting them into a new shape. His organs spasmed violently, rebelling against the cage of his body.

The pain was too much. His mind faltered, collapsing under the weight of it. His scream choked into a ragged gasp, his chest heaving in stuttering jolts—

Then silence.

Leon's body hit the sand with a heavy thud, seething with the aftershocks of agony. His consciousness slipped away, dragged into a black void where pain still lingered, echoing even in unconsciousness.