Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

It looked like Jude - taller, broader, glowing with golden tattoos that moved across his skin. His face bore Jude’s features, but they were exaggerated, divine. His eyes held no whites, only burning gold. And he smiled.

"I am the first," the figure said.

The women instinctively moved closer to Jude, surrounding him.

"Who are you?" Jude asked.

"You," the being replied. "Before you fell. Before you forgot."

"I don’t understand."

"You will."

The being looked at each of the wives and nodded approvingly. "Twelve. As it must be. You’ve done well."

"Is this real?" Emma whispered.

"As real as the blood in your thighs," it said, grinning. "You’ve awakened the seed. Now you must grow it."

Jude stood slowly, heart pounding. "What does that mean?"