The storm came without warning. One moment, the sea was calm; the next, the sky darkened, and waves rose like hungry beasts. Captain Elias and his crew had no chance. Their ship, The Mariner’s Fate, shattered against unseen rocks, and the ocean swallowed them whole.
When Elias awoke, he found himself on a beach of black sand. The air was thick with mist, and towering cliffs loomed around him. He called out for his crew, but only his own voice answered back—though something about the echo seemed… wrong.
Dragging himself to his feet, Elias surveyed the island. A dense jungle stretched inland, filled with gnarled trees and strange, whispering winds. Shadows moved in the mist, but whenever he turned, nothing was there. The only sound was the echo—his voice repeating, but sometimes… changing.
Determined to find survivors, he ventured into the jungle. The deeper he went, the more unnatural the island felt. Vines moved as if alive, and the air shimmered like a mirage. Then he heard it—a voice, weak and desperate.
“Elias… help…”
He ran toward the sound, heart pounding. He found no one. But the voice continued, calling his name, shifting, distorting. It became deeper, more sinister. Then another voice joined. And another. Until the jungle was filled with echoes—not just his own, but voices from long ago.
Elias realized the truth. This island was no ordinary place. It trapped voices, memories—souls. And now, it had his.
As he turned to flee, he felt his own voice whispering back to him.
“You can’t leave, Elias. You belong to the
echoes now.”
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