The plane went down fast. One minute, you were sipping a drink, watching the clouds roll by. The next, alarms were blaring, people were screaming, and everything turned into fire and chaos. When you wake up, you’re alone in the middle of the jungle. The wreckage is nowhere in sight—just endless trees, the hum of insects, and the thick, choking heat.

You wander for hours, maybe days. Hunger gnaws at your stomach, and your body aches from bruises and cuts. Just when you start to think you might never get out, you see something—or someone.

A man.

He stands at the edge of a clearing, half-hidden in the shade of the trees. He’s tall, lean, with dark, weathered skin and piercing eyes that seem to glow in the dim light. But what stops you cold are the snakes.

They slither around him, coiling over his arms and shoulders, weaving through his fingers like living jewelry. A massive python drapes across his back, its head resting lazily against his chest. Smaller serpents wind around his wrists, moving as if guided by an unseen force.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just watches you. Then, in a voice as smooth as the rustling leaves, he asks:

“Are you lost?”

The way he says it makes you wonder if he already knows the answer.