Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

Jude turned, trying to get his bearings. There was no sign of Lena. No sign of the Architects.

Only the unknown.

A figure stood in the distance.

Jude tensed.

They were waiting for him.

Jude's breath was steady, but his mind raced. The vast expanse around him felt surreal, like standing inside a dream where reality hadn't fully settled. The sky above swirled with colors that didn't belong in any world he knew ,deep blues and purples interwoven with silver streaks, like threads in an unraveling tapestry. The air smelled like nothing, an absence that only heightened the sense of wrongness creeping into his bones.

And then there was the figure.

They stood in the distance, waiting. Motionless. Silent. Their silhouette was human-shaped but too still, as if even the wind refused to touch them.

Jude hesitated, gripping the device Lena had given him. He had no idea where he had jumped, only that it was far from the city, far from the collapsing space she had sacrificed herself to hold. He should be grateful. But something about this place felt wrong in a way he couldn't explain.

The figure took a step forward.

Jude tensed.

Another step.

The ground beneath him didn't shift, didn't even register weight like real earth. It was just ,solid. Unmoving.

The figure continued, slow and deliberate, until the distance between them was gone. Jude could finally see them clearly.

A man.

Or at least, something shaped like one.

His features were sharp, symmetrical in a way that seemed calculated rather than natural. His skin was pale, but not sickly ,more like it had never touched the sun. His hair was dark, the kind of black that reflected no light. But his eyes ,his eyes were wrong.

They weren't just deep. They weren't just dark.

They were empty.

Like staring into the void itself.

Jude's fingers twitched over the device, but the man raised a hand in a slow, deliberate gesture of restraint. Not a threat, not quite.

"You don't need that." His voice was smooth, steady, and strangely familiar. "Not yet."

Jude didn't relax. "Who are you?"

The man tilted his head slightly. "That depends. Who do you think I am?"

Jude clenched his jaw. He was done with riddles. "You know me."

The man nodded. "Better than you think."

A cold realization crept into Jude's mind. There was no way this was possible. No way this could be real.

And yet ,

"You're lying," Jude said.

The man smiled, but there was no warmth in it. No amusement. "Am I?"

Jude took a step back. "You're not real."

"Define real."

Jude's breathing quickened. "You're not me."

The man's expression didn't change. "Not exactly."

Jude didn't want to hear more. His fingers tightened around the device, ready to jump ,

But the man moved faster than he should have. His hand shot out, grasping Jude's wrist before he could activate the jump.

And suddenly, the space around them shifted.

Jude's vision blurred. The vast expanse melted away, and he was somewhere else.

A street.

His street.

Buildings towered above him, the air thick with the scent of rain and asphalt. The distant hum of traffic filled his ears, the neon lights of familiar signs flickering as if nothing had changed.

Except everything had.

Jude knew this place.

Knew it too well.

Because this wasn't just any memory.

It was that night.

The night it all started.

He turned sharply, but the man ,his mirror ,was gone.

Instead, he was alone, standing in the exact spot where everything had fallen apart.

He knew what would happen next.

The figures would emerge from the alley. The fight would start. The blood, the panic, the impossible shift in reality.

Jude wasn't just watching a memory.

He was inside it.

A sound echoed from the alley.

Jude's heart pounded.

This wasn't right.

This wasn't how it had gone.

Because this time, the figures weren't strangers.

They were him.

All of them.

Identical.

Moving in perfect unison.

A dozen versions of himself, stepping out of the darkness.

Jude's breath caught in his throat.

And then they spoke.

Not separately. Not in different voices.

But as one.

"You don't belong here."

Jude stumbled back. "What the hell is this?"

The copies advanced, their movements unnatural, too synchronized. Their faces ,his face ,were blank. Emotionless.

"You don't belong."

Jude's grip tightened around the device.

He had to get out.

Now.

He activated the jump ,

But nothing happened.

The device flickered, sputtered, and then ,

Dead.

The copies moved faster.

Jude turned, bolting down the street. The city blurred around him, warping at the edges like a dream breaking apart. The sky cracked, neon bleeding into black void.

This wasn't real.

It couldn't be real.

But it felt real.

His pulse thundered in his ears. His lungs burned. The copies were gaining.

He needed an exit. A door. A break in the pattern.

Something.

And then ,

He saw it.

A single point in the distance.

A flickering shape, like the edge of reality itself was peeling away.

Jude ran for it.

The copies screamed.

Not words. Not human sounds.

Just raw, distorted noise.

He reached the tear ,

And everything shattered.

The world collapsed inward.

And then ,

Silence.

Jude gasped for air.

He was somewhere else.

No city. No copies.

Just darkness.

And a voice.

Not his own.

Not the Architects.

Something older.

"You are not ready."

Jude turned, but there was nothing to see.

Only the voice.

Only the cold.

Only the truth pressing into his mind.

And then ,

The darkness reached for him.

The darkness wrapped around Jude like something alive, pressing into his skin, into his mind. It wasn't cold, nor was it suffocating. It simply was. An existence beyond sensation, beyond thought, beyond time. He reached out instinctively, but his fingers met nothing. Not air. Not space. Just absence.

He wasn't floating. He wasn't standing. He wasn't anything at all.

Yet, he was aware. Aware of the silence stretching endlessly. Aware of something watching him from within it. Aware that he had been pulled beyond the fabric of anything he understood.