The ancient buildings are the last place you’d go.   They are filled with Infector Brood and have an evil about them. They say in the early wars giant machine gods laid waste to the first tribe.  The souls of the dead may still linger.   As a Teuton  you have been trained to survive in the wild, and you will trust in your ability to find a safe cave with water and food.  This sun is killing you though, and you will succumb soon if you don’t

In your bag you draw out a sunskin, a hooded poncho made from the hair of man-spiders.  Standard issue when in the Hammerforge.   Your survival training tells you to look for rainbow arcs, they are signs of a fracture.  Dimensional fractures, created during the Incursion war, have been used by the Tigir to travel below the sands.   Many tunnels connect with strange bi-ways that allow entire caravans to cross the immense desert without ever seeing the sun.  Most are stable, but some flicker and move across the universe. It is rumored that some lead to places far from Victory, places beyond imagination.

Fractures always have water, and if they are old enough and deep, they may have fungus to eat.

Hours pass before you truly regret  your choice.  You turn to try and backtrack to the ruined city when the ground begins to rumble.   The sand around your feet begins to fall inward as you realize you have wandered on to a sinkhole.   An eerie roar and the rush of sand envelope you as you are pulled downward. An iridescent red glow arcs over head, this could be a rift.

The sands close in around you, filling your eyes ears and mouth as you choke with your last breath.  Fate protects Teutons.  As you light your brands that will nudge fate in your favor you must choose:

Ascent.  You aren’t going down like this, you will not let the sand take you.  You will fight to get back to the surface and maybe go back to the ruins.

Descent.  There is no going back, and you can still win.  Trusting in fate your burn your brandsbright, this might be what you were looking for.