Chapter Ten - The Empty Return

CHAPTER TEN

The Empty Return

THE HARDEST PART of climbing Olympus?

Coming down.

After eight years of conquest, Alexander turned his army around. Not in victory, not in defeat, but in frustration.
Not because he couldn’t go further…
But because no one would follow.

He planned a grand return to Babylon.
Victory tour. Parades. Glory.
But first, he made one of the most brutal decisions of his life:

He took the long way.
Through the Gedrosian Desert.

Because why walk the roads of comfort, when you can drag your army through a furnace?

Now, the Gedrosian Desert makes hell look like a spa.

Scorching days. Freezing nights.
No water. No food.
Miles of shifting dunes that erased footsteps and swallowed men.

Why did he do it?

Some say it was strategic.
Some say it was pride.
Others say… he needed to suffer.
He needed to prove he was still worthy of legend.

But the desert didn’t care.
It killed indiscriminately.

Thousands died.
Of thirst. Starvation. Heatstroke. Madness.
Pack animals dropped in the sand.
Soldiers drank their own sweat.
The winds howled with a kind of ancient mockery, as if the gods were laughing at the boy who called himself one of them.

Alexander survived.

But something in him didn’t make it out.

His body?
Wasting away. Wounded. Tired. Coughing blood.

His mind?
Fractured. Haunted. Edges fraying.

He kept going, of course.
Rebuilt cities. Planned new campaigns.
Tried to stitch an empire from a thousand broken pieces.

But the fire was different now.

Not divine.

Just… flickering.

When he finally returned to Babylon, it wasn’t to rest.

It was to plan a new invasion. Arabia, this time.
Because stopping was death.
And deep down, he knew…

He was running out of time.