The stranger from Halicarnassus persists along the same formless path. He watches the infinite horizon of his endless desert dream, a dream made real by the all-conquering unknown. Waves of sand move upon the unsteady surface, lapping against oblivion's invisible shores. They erase his footprints as torrents of heat-drenched air descend upon him. The image of the necropolis becomes sharper through the sandy haze. The stranger remains undaunted, plodding ahead fearlessly. There is a drastic shift in the air. The wind seems to breathe more maliciously now, forcing him to shield his eyes against the windswept sand. He finds himself at the other side of utter nothingness, wondering whether trudging ahead will cause him to bathe in the embrace of anonymity. He envisions the whiteness before him enfolding him. The screaming ocean of sand nearly conceals his presence. The desert then changes before his eyes, gaining structure-like formations that spring up from the sand. It appears to diverge into different paths, and he imagines phantom travelers forever moving along the same paths in tireless futility. The stranger feels that the different paths lead nowhere. The ghostly labyrinth nearly appears tangible before him. Then he peers into the all-consuming whiteness. The sand drifts along with the wind as the sound of footsteps emerges. The stranger looks around. He feels that he will finally come face to face with the unknown. He is ready to peer into its unblemished orbs and see his ever-curious mind reflected in them.