Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1002

Chapter 1002: Chapter 1002

Jude awoke before the others again, though this time he had not been plagued by nightmares. Instead, something had stirred him gently from sleep, like a hand on his shoulder or a whispered name in his ear. He sat up in the dim early light and listened. The wind rustled the leaves beyond their walls. The breath of twelve women, steady and warm, filled the space behind him. All was still. Yet his heart beat with that old, persistent rhythm, the pulse of the unknown, of something waiting just beyond the veil.

He stepped outside. The morning air was cooler than usual, carrying a faint sweetness, almost floral. Not like the heavy perfume of the jungle blooms, but more delicate, ephemeral. He followed it.

His path led him toward the eastern cliffs, where the sea met the sky in jagged lines of foam and stone. The air sharpened as he climbed higher, the breeze picking up. And then he saw it.

A single tree stood at the edge of the cliff, where there had been none before. Tall, silver-white bark twisted into elegant spirals, its branches leafless but glittering with dewdrops that glowed faintly in the growing light. It had not been here yesterday. Jude approached slowly, alert for traps, illusions, or shifts in the island’s temperament. But the ground held firm. The tree did not hum with menace. It simply existed, like it had always belonged there.

When he touched it, nothing happened at first. Then a wave of warmth pulsed into his palm, traveling up his arm, through his chest, and into his skull. He gasped as images flooded his mind, visions, emotions, half-formed thoughts like dreams unraveling.

He saw himself standing at the center of a vast circle of mirrors, each reflecting a different version of him. Some were alone. Some stood with one wife. Others with twelve. A few wore armor. One was crowned in flames. Another was skeletal, monstrous, wrapped in shadow. The mirrors cracked, one by one, until only the version of him as he was now remained.

Then the vision shifted. He saw the island from above, not as a map but as a living organism. The trees were veins. The rivers, arteries. The volcano was its heart, now quiet but pulsing slow and deep, like a drumbeat beneath the earth.

The warmth faded. Jude pulled his hand back and stumbled a step. He understood now: the island was testing its boundaries. It wanted to know what form it should take next. The white tree was not a threat. It was a question.

When he returned, most of the women were already awake. Scarlet and Zoey were gathering berries. Grace was sharpening tools. Susan and Rose were talking quietly by the cooking fire. Layla noticed him first and jogged up, breath misting in the cool morning.

"You’ve been out early again. What did you find?"

"A tree," he said, voice low. "One that wasn’t there yesterday. It showed me things. Reflections. Choices."

Layla’s brow furrowed. "Is it dangerous?"

"No. Not yet. But it’s... aware. All of this is aware. It’s watching how we respond."

"Then what do we do?"

"We show it we’re not afraid."

That afternoon, Jude led them all to the cliff’s edge. They stood in a loose semicircle around the silver tree, now glittering brighter in the midday sun. It hummed faintly, a sound felt more in the bones than the ears.

They took turns touching it. Some received visions. Others felt only warmth or silence. Lucy cried after hers, but didn’t say why. Emma trembled, then laughed. Stella saw a future she refused to describe. Every reaction was different, but none left unchanged.

When it was done, they sat beneath the tree and spoke in low voices, sharing what they’d felt. Jude listened, noting what repeated, mirrors, alternate selves, choices unmade. The island was not just observing. It was compiling. Cataloguing.

That night, Jude stayed up again. He lit a fire and stared into the flames, thoughts tangled in too many directions. Rose joined him, silent at first. She leaned against him, her warmth a familiar comfort.

"Do you think it’s trying to become one of us?" she asked after a while.

"Maybe. Or maybe it’s waiting for us to become something else."

She was quiet, then murmured, "I’m not afraid, you know. Even if it’s watching. Even if it’s copying us. We’ve already faced worse."

"I know," Jude said. "But this is different. The smoke, the monsters, Neluvir, that was a sickness. This... this is evolution."

Rose looked into the fire. "Then let’s evolve with it. On our terms."

The following days passed like dreams. The forest changed again, colors shifted subtly, blues deeper, greens more vibrant. The fruit grew richer, and a new kind of bird appeared, one with feathers that shimmered like metal and sang with perfect harmony. The wives took to exploring the island more boldly, pairing off in new ways, following instincts instead of plans.

One afternoon, Serena and Natalie found a cave near the old waterfall. Inside, walls glittered with quartz veins, and in the deepest chamber, they discovered a pool of water that reflected the stars, even during daylight. When they touched it, the reflections shifted to show not constellations, but faces. Theirs. Twelve of them, floating among galaxies.

Jude visited the pool the next day. The reflections shifted to show him cradling something in his arms, a child? A weapon? It changed each time he blinked. The island didn’t just remember. It imagined.

By the end of the week, a new structure began to rise near the orchard, not built by human hands, but grown. Vines wove together, shaping into arches and walls. The plant-life moved too quickly, too precisely to be natural. Within two days, it resembled a temple or a council hall, tall and hollow and open to the sky. The inside walls bore no markings, but standing within it gave a strange clarity, like sound became sharper, thought more focused.