No one slept.
They sat on the black sand where the boat had died, backs to one another, eyes fixed on the tree line. The forest breathed—not loudly, not aggressively—but deliberately, as though it was aware of every heartbeat on the shore.
Jonah checked his watch.
It had stopped.
Not broken.
Stopped.
The second hand rested between ticks, frozen like it had been caught doing something it shouldn't.
"Anyone else?" he asked quietly.
One by one, the men raised their wrists.
Every watch. Dead.
Phones too. No signal. No power. Screens black as the sand beneath their feet.
"This place messes with time," someone whispered.
"No," Jonah said, his voice tight. "It ignores it."
A branch snapped inside the forest.
Every man flinched.
Nothing emerged.
Minutes passed. Or hours. No one could tell anymore.
Then they heard it.
Footsteps.
Slow. Unhurried.
Bare feet on stone.
A figure stepped out from between the trees.
Human in shape—but wrong in presence.
The man looked ordinary at first glance. Lean. Dark-skinned. Dressed in clothes that belonged to another era. His eyes, however, were unsettlingly calm, like someone who had already seen how this would end.
"You arrived early this cycle," the stranger said.
Jonah stood. "Who are you?"
The man smiled faintly.
"A resident," he replied. "For now."
The air grew colder.
"Listen carefully," the man continued. "The island doesn't like explanations, but it tolerates rules."
He raised one finger.
"Rule one: Do not lie here. Not to others. Not to yourself."
A second finger.
"Rule two: Do not follow voices that know your name."
Murmurs spread through the group.
"And rule three…"
He hesitated.
Jonah felt his chest tighten.
"If the island shows you something from your past—" the man said slowly, "—do not run. It already knows how fast you can go."
Silence swallowed them.
"Can we leave?" Jonah asked.
The man looked toward the fog-covered shore and laughed softly—not mockingly, but sadly.
"The island decides who leaves," he said. "And what version of them goes back."
The forest shifted again.
Closer this time.
The stranger took a step backward, already fading into the trees.
"Oh," he added casually, "one more thing."
They leaned in despite themselves.
"You weren't all chosen randomly."
The trees closed behind him.
Darkness deepened.
And from somewhere inside the forest, Jonah heard it—
A voice.
Low. Familiar.
Calling his name.