The sand rolled across his toes as Lucas slammed his staff down to support his weight. The wind howled across the desert.
"I must be getting close." Lucas said to no one but himself. After spending months in the Mo'neieta desert, his voice was the only thing he had to keep himself sane. The sound of pistons complemented the wind in an odd harmony as his cybernetic eye piece adjusted to the small sand storm and displayed key information to him. "The wind speed is picking up. Now is a good time to settle for the evening."
Lucas took off his pack, a small thump on the sand as he knelt down to set up his tent. After taking out the placing piston, he gave one look around, checking his surroundings, mostly for crawlers. "The wind doesn't deter the most fierce predators." He slammed the piston down as the gears forced out the basic makings of a tent in a mess of steel and cranks. Assembly took exactly 64.8 seconds, 4.8 seconds slower than when he started this journey, according to Lucas' eye piece. "Of course you are slowing down. You are getting out dated." Lucas turned to the east, his eye piece focusing on a faint red dot 648 miles away, labeled in his head's up display as Tannish.
"Have I really walked that far? And all for what? Some stupid legend?!" Lucas slammed his staff into the ground and his eyes followed suit, tears wetting the sand. "Why I am here?"