Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

They all stared into it. And within it, they saw themselves - not reflections, not illusions, but truths.

Jude saw his own face, his eyes wide, glowing with something vast. Then he saw Rose, straddling him again on the cliff, her mouth on his chest. He saw Lucy crying in the dark after their first ritual, afraid she would lose him. He saw Sophie whispering I don’t trust this while her hand still clung to his.

Each of the women gasped softly in turn, seeing their own moments ripple in the light - births of love, of fear, of surrender.

The pool showed it all.

Then it stilled.

And the golden tree pulsed again.

Harder.

Louder.

Calling.

Rose took a deep breath, then turned. "It’s asking for something."