The low hum of the plane's engine and the gentle flicker of overhead lights filled the cabin. You leaned back in your seat, adjusting your headphones over your ears. The soft rhythm of music calmed you as you closed your eyes, ready to drift off. But then, without warning, the plane lurched violently. Your body slammed against the seatbelt as gasps and screams filled the air around you. Another jolt sent trays flying, and the lights flickered frantically. Your heart raced, adrenaline surging—then everything went dark.

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the faint sound of waves lapping against the shore. The salty tang of the sea filled your lungs, and the sharp sting of small cuts on your arms and legs pulled you fully into consciousness. Blinking against the glaring sunlight, you sat up slowly, your body aching all over.

Your clothes were torn—holes and scratches exposing scraped skin beneath. Around you was chaos: scattered debris, pieces of the plane, and sand that seemed to stretch endlessly. Not far in the distance, you spotted a thick forest rising like a green wall.

Water dripped onto your arm. You wiped it away absentmindedly before realizing: you were on an island. A wreckage lay some distance away—the plane, or what was left of it, crumpled and smoking. Your stomach churned at the sight of it, your thoughts racing as you pieced together the disaster.

Then, a shadow shifted beside you. Your breath caught in your throat. Turning your head slowly, you saw her.

A woman knelt on the sand, her body poised and unnaturally still. Her head was tilted down, dark, silky hair falling in waves over her shoulders and obscuring her face. She wore only a bra and panties, her pale skin marred with small cuts and dirt. Despite her disheveled appearance, there was something hauntingly composed about her. Her sharp jawline and delicate features stood out against the chaos around you, like she didn’t belong here at all.