Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

"The first time I've made it here?" Jude echoed, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes flicked back to the screen, to the version of himself that had broken free. A version that wasn't bound to the chair like he was now.

The man nodded. "Every iteration, you push a little further. Sometimes, you stop at the door. Sometimes, you leave before the truth sets in. But this time… this time is different."

Jude's heart pounded against his ribs. "Why?"

The woman's gaze was steady. "Because this time, you're listening."

A wave of nausea rolled over him. He had spent his life questioning reality in small, quiet ways, brushing off inconsistencies, ignoring the flickers at the edges of his vision, convincing himself that his own mind was the problem. But now, faced with undeniable proof, he realized that his instincts had been right all along.

Jude forced himself to take a deep breath. "Alright," he said, voice steadier than he felt. "How do I break the cycle?"

The man smirked. "Now you're asking the right questions."

The woman turned to the console and pressed a few buttons. The restraints around Jude's wrists and ankles released with a soft hiss, freeing him. He rubbed his wrists, still uncertain if he was making the right choice.

"You have to do something no version of you has done before," the man said. "Something that forces the cycle to shatter instead of reset."

Jude flexed his fingers, his mind racing. "And what is that?"

The woman turned back to face him, her expression unreadable. "Escape."

Jude frowned. "I'm already here. Isn't that escaping?"

The man shook his head. "You're inside the system. Physically, you're still trapped. Mentally, you've broken past the first barrier, but that's not enough. You need to leave this place. And you need to do it without triggering the reset."

Jude exhaled. "And if I fail?"

The woman's voice was quiet. "Then everything starts over."

A shiver crawled up his spine. He looked back at the monitors, at the looping images of himself repeating the same moments over and over. He clenched his jaw.

Not this time.

Jude stood. "Tell me what I need to do."

Jude's heartbeat thundered in his ears as he stared at the screen, at the looping fragments of himself trapped in the same patterns. The weight of the revelation settled deep in his chest, he had lived this before. He had tried to break free before.

But this time… this time, he had made it further.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus. Panic wouldn't help him now. "What happens if I break the cycle?" His voice was steady, but beneath it, he felt the sharp edge of uncertainty.

The woman exchanged a glance with the man before answering. "We don't know."

Jude's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

The man sighed. "No one's ever done it."

Jude let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Great. So you're telling me I've been stuck in a loop my whole life, and if I try to break free, I might not survive?"

The woman shook her head. "We don't know if it's about survival, Jude. The cycle isn't just about you, it's about everything. The world as we know it might not exist beyond it."

His stomach clenched. "You mean if I break the cycle… reality could collapse?"

"Or transform," the man said. "Into something we can't predict."

Jude exhaled sharply, his mind racing. He had come this far. He had seen the cracks in the illusion, the inconsistencies, the wrongness in his own memories. He couldn't just go back now. He *wouldn't*.

"What do I need to do?"

The woman hesitated before stepping forward. "There's a point. A fixed moment in time that the cycle anchors to. If you reach that moment and change it… the cycle might not reset."

Jude frowned. "A fixed moment?"

She nodded and turned back to the monitors. With a few quick keystrokes, the screens shifted, scrolling through thousands of images before settling on one. Jude felt his stomach drop.

It was him.

Standing in front of his childhood home.

The memory hit him like a punch to the gut. He was seven years old. It was raining. He remembered the cold seeping into his clothes, the sound of his mother's voice calling him from inside. But something about the image on the screen was wrong.

There was someone standing behind him.

The same shadowy figure from the previous footage.

Jude swallowed hard. "That's the moment."

The man nodded. "It's the first anomaly in your records. The first time something didn't align properly."

Jude clenched his jaw. "Then that's where I need to go."

The woman hesitated. "It's not that simple. You don't just walk into a memory."

Jude turned to her, his hands balling into fists. "Then tell me what I have to do."

The man pressed a button, and the metallic chair hummed to life. "You have to *relive* it."

Jude's breath caught in his throat.

"Not as a memory," the woman added, stepping beside him. "As if it's happening again. You'll be *inside* that moment, with full awareness. You'll have a chance to change it."

Jude's pulse pounded. He didn't know if he was ready for this. But he also knew he didn't have a choice.

He nodded. "Do it."

The man tapped a final command, and the room blurred.

Everything dissolved into light.

The rain hit his skin before the world had fully formed around him.

Jude gasped, stumbling slightly as his body adjusted to the shift. The sensation was real, the cold dampness of his clothes, the muddy ground beneath his bare feet. He looked down. His hands were smaller. His arms are thinner.

He was a child again.

His breath came in short bursts as he turned, scanning his surroundings. The house loomed in front of him, just as he remembered it, faded blue walls, a dim light glowing from the kitchen window. The wind carried the familiar scent of wet earth and old wood.

And then, he felt it.

The presence.

Behind him.

Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his head.