Title : The Island of Tests
That night, as the wind howled across the waves and the stars glinted like watching eyes, Tyson had a dream.
An old man stood before him, surrounded by flickering light and shadows that swirled like smoke. His robes were torn and ancient, his eyes glowing faintly gold.
"You are not weak," the old man said. "My incredible power is with you."
Tyson gasped awake, drenched in sweat. The words echoed in his mind, but he brushed it off as a dream born from anxiety and fear.
The next day, their journey began.
The ship rocked as the waves guided them deeper into the ocean. Tyson, Erie Crest (the doctor), Aria (the junior archaeologist), Rook (the eccentric sailor), and Lyra (his sharpshooter and navigator girlfriend) stared out at the never-ending sea. Days passed in silence, broken only by the splash of waves and the creak of the boat.
Their supplies began to dwindle. Food and water were nearly gone. Two days of rations remained.
Then, on the horizon, a miracle appeared: land.
An uncharted island—lush, green, and wild.
Relief washed over the crew. They docked with laughter and cheers, eager to set foot on solid ground again. Tyson, though, remained restless. His mind never left Zara. This stop was a distraction—but he knew they needed rest and supplies to continue.
The next morning, Rook decided to go hunting. "We need at least 25 days of food," he said. Lyra agreed to go with him. Meanwhile, Aria and Dr. Erie Crest searched for fresh water.
They found a clean lake nestled between ancient trees, and Tyson helped them store water back at the ship.
But deep in the jungle, the hunt turned dangerous.
Rook and Lyra spotted a group of wild boars. Lyra took quick shots—two boars down, the rest scattered. The scent of blood spread through the jungle like wildfire.
Suddenly, a low growl chilled the air.
A leopard, sleek and deadly, emerged from the foliage. It pounced from the shadows—feral eyes locked on them.
Lyra raised her gun. Panic gripped her—bullets missed, whizzing into the trees.
"Rook!" she cried.
The beast was closing in.
Rook stepped forward, blood pounding in his ears. He hadn't used the old crimson katana he carried on his back—until now.
The leopard lunged.
Claws tore across Rook's side, blood spraying. He cried out, staggering. But he didn't fall. Something awakened in him.
His hand gripped the hilt.
Power surged through his veins—the same surge Tyson once felt in his dream. In a single, fluid motion, Rook drew the katana. The blade shimmered unnaturally, pulsing with a red hue.
The leopard roared.
Rook roared back.
With a fierce cry, he swung the blade.
One clean, lightning-fast slash. The beast's head hit the ground a moment before its body collapsed.
Rook stood trembling, wounded but victorious.
They hauled back two boars and a leopard. Erie treated Rook with a strange medicinal concoction. He fell into a deep sleep, and by morning, his wounds had already begun to heal faster than expected.
But that wasn't just the drug. There was something different about Rook. His body—like Tyson's dream—held something ancient within.
While he rested, Lyra discovered a grassy field filled with wild turkeys. Her second hunt brought in ten more birds.
With meat and water now secured in the ship's storage, the crew regrouped.
The next morning, sails rose again.
Their journey to Serpent's Grief—the island of the curse—continued.