Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 951

Chapter 951: Chapter 951

They found the first anomaly just past the orchard, a tree with bark like polished metal and leaves made of glass. It hadn’t been there yesterday. The trunk was rooted deep in the earth, and the air around it shimmered faintly, like heat off a road. When Lucy reached out to touch it, a pulse of light radiated outward, and for a moment, they all heard a melody that didn’t belong to any human instrument. Then silence.

"It’s spreading," Rose said. "The memory. The Vault, it wasn’t just inside us. It rewrote something. The island’s changing with us."

Grace knelt beside the tree, fingers brushing its roots. "It’s not wrong. Just different. Like it was waiting for a reason to evolve."

Jude knelt beside her. "Then this is what comes next. Not apocalypse. Not rebirth. Transformation."

By evening, more anomalies had surfaced.

A stream behind the house now flowed upward, defying gravity in a gentle arc that glittered under the moon. A cluster of stones near the southern cliff rearranged themselves while they watched, forming a spiral before collapsing again. At the edge of the jungle, a hollow in the ground revealed a glowing pool of liquid that smelled like memory, scentless, yet deeply familiar.

They tried to track it all, mapping each new phenomenon, but the changes were accelerating too quickly.

Natalie was the first to experience a personal shift.

She woke in the night and found she could hear the island’s breath, not metaphorically, but literally. The wind carried voices, some singing, some whispering, some weeping. When she spoke of it over breakfast, no one laughed or questioned her. They believed her.

The next day, Zoey touched a dying bird in the field and it breathed again, fluttering into the sky like nothing had happened. Her hand glowed faintly for hours after. Serena and Sophie saw the stars rearrange themselves into a symbol from the Vault. And Jude, when he opened the book again, found pages that hadn’t been there before. Pages written in his own handwriting, though he’d never touched a pen.

"Are we becoming gods?" Layla asked, half-joking, half-afraid.

"No," Ashra answered from the edge of the firelight. "You’re becoming what they were supposed to be. Stewards. Witnesses. Not rulers."

"Then what do we do?" Scarlet asked.

"We learn," Jude said. "We listen. We document. And we prepare."

"For what?"

"For whatever comes next."

It didn’t take long for the tension to return.

One night, a creature appeared near the base of the mountain, large, hunched, with eyes like lanterns and skin that shimmered with embedded memories. It didn’t attack. It just stood there, watching the house from a distance, unmoving. The next morning, it was gone, but its footprints remained, burned into the earth.

Rose was the first to say it. "The Vault opened something else. We weren’t the only ones watching."

The dreams returned, but not like before. They weren’t fragmented or surreal. They were real, lucid. Shared. Jude and Grace both dreamed of a tower made of bone. Susan and Emma dreamed of a city beneath the sea, its windows cracked, its halls filled with whispers. Lucy dreamed of a mirror that never stopped showing versions of herself, young, old, monstrous, divine.

Jude began to realize that whatever force the Vault had contained, it wasn’t content to rest in memory alone. It wanted to live again. Through them. With them. Not possession, not control, but coexistence. An echo learning to speak again.

And yet, not all echoes were friendly.

One afternoon, while scouting alone, Stella disappeared for three hours. When they found her, she was standing in the center of a new clearing that hadn’t existed before, eyes wide, lips moving silently.

"She’s not hurt," Grace said after checking her. "But she’s not... here."

Jude took her hand. "Stella? Can you hear me?"

She blinked once. Then again. Then whispered, "The eye is open."

She collapsed.

She awoke hours later with no memory of the event, but she was different. Calmer. More focused. When she spoke, her voice held strange harmonics beneath it. Sometimes when she walked past glass, her reflection moved a second too late.

Jude began marking the days since the Vault. Ten so far.

On the twelfth night, the sky cracked.

Not literally, but the stars flickered, then rearranged themselves into a spiral so massive it stretched across the heavens. Every wife saw it. Every one of them woke at the same time, stepped outside, and watched as the stars blinked in a sequence like a heartbeat.

A message, Jude realized. But in a language older than time.

"We’re being invited," Emma whispered. "To go deeper."

"Not just into the island," Rose said. "Into reality itself."

It was too much, too fast. So Jude called for a pause.

No more exploring. No more triggering anomalies. They spent the next day grounding themselves, harvesting fruit, mending clothes, bathing in the river, telling jokes. They laughed again. Not nervously, but truly. Because despite everything, the love between them was stronger than any mystery. The years of survival, of passion, of shared pain and growth, it had forged a bond that even the spiral couldn’t unravel.

That night, Jude lay in bed surrounded by the women who had become his world.

Susan rested her head on his shoulder, fingers brushing his collarbone.

Rose curled against his side, murmuring in her sleep.

Serena held his hand tightly.

Layla, Natalie, and Zoey tangled at his feet, warm and breathing softly.

Lucy had draped herself across his back, sighing whenever he shifted.

Stella lay near the window, her eyes half-open, watching the stars with calm understanding.

Emma, Sophie, and Grace were nestled together near the door, but their presence pulsed like an aura.

And Scarlet, closest to his heart, her breath syncing perfectly with his own.

He didn’t sleep.

Instead, he listened to their dreams.

Because he could now.

He heard fragments, melodies, colors with names that didn’t exist. They dreamed of futures, of other worlds, of a second Vault waiting in the sky. And beyond that, something else. Something beautiful.