Robert Cross had been the driving force behind two presidents on both sides. He played the government like the corporation it was. He moved people and ideals like checkers. Advancing opposing ideas at different times kept the money flowing. No one suspected him at all. He was wholly insulated through intermediaries and shell companies started by people he had dirt on.

I could feel the history of that map under my hands, the brittle parchment crinkling slightly with every movement. The air in the room was thick with dust and secrets. And despite the excitement thrumming in my veins, I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The tension between the team members has been palpable for days. It’s like walking through a minefield. At first, I thought it was just the stress of the mission getting to everyone—the island’s weight bearing down on us. But now, as the days stretch on, I can’t shake the feeling that something darker is festering underneath.

With compliments like those, how could I not worry about making that all-important good first impression? Then over dessert, Ms. Parker and I discussed all of the mundane contractional details that come with the proverbial territory.

The days blurred together in a haze of salty air, damp sand, and the ever-present thrum of the island’s pulse. It felt as though time itself moved differently here—slower, more deliberate. I think about that a lot lately, how the island’s rhythm has become my own.

The night was unusually warm but dark. There was no moon in the sky, and it was quiet. Alex walked confidently up to the small, well-groomed house and peered inside a window. The house was asleep. He almost whispered the word, Minerva. That would have activated his onboard A.I., and his little extracurricular field trip would have been a bust.

I woke with a start, the dream so fresh in my mind I could still feel the wetness of the blood. A scream was falling back down my throat. I cleared it and took a deep breath.

The camp felt like a hollow place after Finn left. The shadows of the fire stretched long across the ground, but no warmth reached me. I sat stiffly on the log where I’d been moments before, still hearing Dr. Myers’ biting words echo in my head.

The island stirred before the first cloud darkened the horizon. Its energy shifted, vibrating beneath my feet, the hum of its pulse growing restless. I had warned them, but they chose not to hear, blinded by their own ambitions. Now, the island would speak louder.

Alex pushed himself off the floor, launching his body at his opponent. The speed at which he was moving was astonishing. He covered a twenty-meter distance in less than a second. His opponent and teacher sidestepped him easily and tripped him.

Despite the calm, the unease in the camp lingered. I could still feel the weight of Finn’s presence from the night before—the quiet authority with which he had navigated the chaos, his cryptic words that seemed to linger long after he’d vanished into the interior of the island. It was waking, he’d said. The island. And it was watching.

The dark-haired man walked up to the reflective glass doors of the towering building. Massive letters hovered near the top of the tower; they read The Sotir Group. The man paused for just a moment to make sure he looked right. He smiled to himself, knowing he carried his 190 pounds well on his six-foot frame. He opened the doors with a smile of confidence on his face. He walked up to the security desk. His blue eyes were full of pleasantries.

The island stirred before the first cloud darkened the horizon. Its energy shifted, vibrating beneath my feet, the hum of its pulse growing restless. I had warned them, but they chose not to hear, blinded by their own ambitions. Now, the island would speak louder.

When the rest of the team first arrived on Taransay the energy was electric. We moved as a unit, driven by the shared thrill of unraveling the island’s ancient secrets. For a time, it felt like we were all pulling in the same direction. But that harmony didn’t last. By the third day, the unity that had carried us through our initial discoveries began to fray. The team splintered, each faction pulling toward its own goals, the cracks widening with every conversation and every decision.

The dark-haired man walked up to the reflective glass doors of the towering building. Massive letters hovered near the top of the tower; they read The Sotir Group. The man paused for just a moment to make sure he looked right. He smiled to himself, knowing he carried his 190 pounds well on his six-foot frame. He opened the doors with a smile of confidence on his face. He walked up to the security desk. His blue eyes were full of pleasantries.