Two weeks had passed. The wrecked plane remained motionless, half-buried in the island's thick jungle, its charred metal frame a stark contrast to the untamed wilderness around it.
Inside, amidst the lingering scent of smoke and fuel, a groan echoed through the hushed remains of the cabin.
"Ugh… what the hell happened?" Stiles muttered, blinking as he slowly pushed himself up from the cold floor. His entire body ached, his muscles stiff from being unconscious for so long.
"Shit… my head's killing me," Dante grumbled, rubbing his temples as he sat up, his voice hoarse.
"Guess we didn't die, huh?" SteelArm said, forcing a smirk as he stretched his sore limbs.
The three of them sat in silence for a moment, letting the reality of their situation sink in. No crew. No rescue. Just them and whatever remained of the plane.
"How long do you think we've been out?" Dante asked, glancing at the shattered remains of a clock still hanging from the plane's interior.
"No idea, but judging by how stiff I feel… at least a few days," Stiles replied, rolling his shoulders before sighing. "Well, sitting here isn't gonna get us anywhere."
With that, the three of them stood up. SteelArm took the lead, stomping forward before slamming his fists into the weakened metal of the plane's hull. The steel groaned under his strength before finally giving way as he and the others broke through the wall and stepped outside.
The moment they emerged, they were greeted by an eerie, unrelenting storm swirling around the island. The sky above was dark, thick with clouds, and the sea surrounding the land was in chaos—lightning constantly striking the water in rapid succession, forming a ring of flashing light around them.
"This… doesn't look good," Dante muttered, his eyes scanning their surroundings.
"No kidding," Stiles replied, stepping forward and taking a deep breath of the salty, humid air.
The island was unlike anything they had ever seen that wasn't inside a gate. Jagged cliffs loomed in the distance, dense forests stretched as far as the eye could see, and strange, unnatural formations dotted the landscape.
"Alright," SteelArm said, cracking his knuckles. "We've been out of it long enough. Time to figure out what the hell this place is and how the hell we're getting off it.
Over the course of a week, Stiles, Dante, and SteelArm gradually expanded their search beyond the wreckage, each day pushing further into the unknown wilderness of the island. The plane remained their makeshift base, offering a relatively safe place to sleep despite its ruined state. They had managed to survive off the land—eating charred fish that had been struck by lightning and washed up on shore, as well as hunting animals lurking in the jungle.
The island, however, was far from ordinary. The deeper they ventured, the more unsettling it became. Some nights, they swore they could hear whispers in the wind. Other times, the shadows between the trees seemed to move on their own. Yet, despite these eerie occurrences, they had no choice but to keep exploring.
Now, on the seventh day, the three of them stirred awake inside the plane. The morning was like any other—humid, with the ever-present storm rumbling overhead. Stiles sat up first, stretching his sore muscles before glancing at the others. Dante was lying on his back, staring up at the broken ceiling, while SteelArm lazily cracked his knuckles.
Dante let out a sigh. "Do you guys think anyone even noticed we're gone?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence.
SteelArm scoffed. "Pfft. You kidding? We're part of Dragon Bone. Halstein definitely noticed."
"Yeah," Stiles added. "But the question is… does he know where we are?"
Dante sat up, rubbing his face. "That's what's been bothering me. If they knew, they would've sent someone by now. It's been at least whole damn week."
SteelArm leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "You think we're in some kind of dead zone? Like, no way to track us?"
"Feels like it," Stiles muttered. "This island… something about it doesn't add up. The storm hasn't let up for even a second, and it's way too… I don't know, unnatural. I know that might be odd considering we can throw fucking lightning bolts, create barriers of fucking divine energy, and other shit... but this island, it hasn't felt right in the slightest to me since we began exploring it."
"You're not wrong," Dante admitted, rolling his shoulders. "We've seen some crazy shit, but this island? It feels... off to say it simply."
SteelArm let out a deep sigh and cracked his knuckles. "And not in a welcome to paradise kind of way. More like you don't belong here." He crossed his arms, glancing at the never-ending storm overhead. "A whole damn week, and it hasn't let up. Not even for a second. That's not normal—not even for magic."
Stiles exhaled, rubbing his temples. "That's exactly what's been bothering me. It's not just the storm. It's everything. The way the jungle shifts at night, the whispers in the wind, the feeling that we're being watched." He clenched his fist. "We need to figure out what the hell is going on before this shitty place decides we've overstayed our welcome."
Dante sighed and stood up, stretching. "Well, sitting around bitching about it won't do us any good. Let's get moving—same as before. We push further today."
With that, they stepped out of the wreckage, the wind howling around them as lightning continued to crackle in the distance.
"Let's get moving," Stiles said, falling into step behind Dante as they entered the thick underbrush of the jungle.
As soon as they crossed into the jungle, the atmosphere shifted. Shadows flitted between the trees, and the air was thick with whispers in a language they couldn't decipher, brushing against their ears like a chilling breeze.
Stiles's sharp eyes caught movement in the foliage. A rabbit darted past, and he instinctively conjured a spear from his blood, the crimson liquid solidifying into a deadly tip. With a swift thrust, he speared the rabbit, ending its flight in an instant. "Got us some meat for today," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice. "Not much, but it's better than starving on this godforsaken island."
SteelArm turned, glancing at the rabbit impaled on the spear. "Nice work! Let's see if we can snag at least two more so everyone gets a full meal," he said, his resolve evident as they pushed further into the jungle.
They reached a part of the jungle they had yet to explore, the air growing thicker with humidity and an electric tension.
"Everything past this line is uncharted territory," Dante warned, his tone serious. "Stay alert and keep your eyes peeled." With that, he stepped over an invisible line they had marked in the dirt.
But just as they ventured deeper, a low growl echoed through the trees, a pack of wolves emerged from the shadows, their bodies crackling with electricity. Bolts of energy danced along their fur, arcing down to the ground and causing the earth to pulse with small shocks.
Stiles froze, the spear still poised with the rabbit. "Uh... guys?"
SteelArm's eyes widened, instinctively stepping in front of Stiles. "Well, this just got interesting."
Dante's expression hardened as he braced himself for the impending confrontation. "Stay close and get ready for a fight. I don't think these are your average pack of wolves."
"Well, no shit, they've got fucking electricity coursing through their fur!" Stiles shot back.
Without warning, the pack of electrified wolves charged at them, fur bristling with crackling energy. But before they could reach the trio, Dante, Stiles, and SteelArm unleashed their combined strength. In a flurry of motion, they struck down the entire pack in an instant, the once-menacing growls silenced as the wolves collapsed to the ground, defeated.
"Well, looks like we've got ourselves a feast," Dante said, glancing at the others as he inspected the fallen wolves.
"Talk about perfect timing," Stiles chimed in, and the three of them efficiently used their weapons to lift two of the wolves each, careful not to touch the electrified fur directly.
"Should we just call it a day and head back?" SteelArm suggested, using one of Dante's spears to carry a few wolves. "We can explore more tomorrow."
"Yeah, hauling all this weight will definitely slow us down," Stiles agreed, turning to Dante for his take.
Dante considered it for a moment. "We could drop these off at base and then keep exploring... but I guess a day off from this jungle won't hurt." He sighed, and they began their trek back to the plane.
Upon their arrival, they dumped the wolves in a corner of the plane that they weren't using. Finding a spot away from the gaping hole, they settled down as the sounds of the storm crackled ominously outside.
Dante's eyes caught a glint under one of the seats. "Hey, look what I found!" He held up a deck of cards. "Wanna play some cards?"
The others nodded eagerly, grateful for the distraction, and soon they were lost in the game, laughter punctuating the howling winds outside.