Chandel_Neetu

The world ended in fire, tsunamis, and endless catastrophe. Just when humanity faced total annihilation, the last survivors were forcibly transported to isolated islands—each left alone, with nothing but a broken hut and a cryptic system demanding their survival.

Lena, cunning, ruthless, and unyielding, refuses to be controlled. She will carve her own path, build her own strength, and rise higher than anyone expects. But she soon realizes this world is far from empty.

Something stirs beneath the surface. Something watches from the shadows.

He is powerful. Intelligent. Dangerous. And unlike anything—or anyone—she has ever encountered.

He doesn’t belong to the shattered world she left behind. He doesn’t belong to humanity at all.

Their meeting is inevitable. Their fates tangled in ways neither of them understands.

But on an island where the system decides who survives and who perishes, some threats don’t come with claws and teeth. Some are far more seductive. And far deadlier.

Islands of the Forsaken

The system's quest still lingered in Lena's vision.

[Hidden Quest Activated: Echoes of the Past]

Objective: Uncover the history of the island.

Lena dismissed the notification, but the weight of it didn't fade.

The system had never given her quests like this before. It had always been about survival, resources, progress. But this—this was different.

Lena turned toward Riven. He hadn't moved, still watching her with that unreadable gaze.

He didn't answer immediately. Then, slowly, he said, "Should I be?"

Lena narrowed her eyes. (That's not a no.)

She exhaled through her nose. Pushing him wouldn't get her answers. Not yet.

The sun had fully risen by the time they left the hut.

Not visibly. The trees still swayed in the breeze. The ocean waves still crashed against the shore. But the air was heavier.

Lena ignored the sensation and focused on the task at hand. The quest wanted history. And if there was history here, there would be signs of it.

She glanced at Riven. "If you were looking for answers, where would you start?"

He studied her for a moment, then said, "The ruins."

A slight tilt of his head. "You didn't think this place was always empty, did you?"

The vegetation thickened, the terrain shifting from damp earth to uneven stone. The farther they went, the more unnatural the island began to feel.

The trees—too large, their roots coiling like veins beneath the ground. The air—too still, despite the breeze.

Massive stone pillars, half-buried in the earth. Crumbled walls, their surfaces covered in faint carvings, worn by time.

Lena stepped forward, trailing her fingers along the nearest stone. The carvings were intricate—symbols, depictions of figures with elongated limbs, eyes that seemed too large.

Lena inhaled slowly. (So this is what the system wants me to find.)

She turned to Riven. "What do you know about this place?"

Lena's fingers twitched toward her knife. "And?"

A small, almost imperceptible smirk. "Figure it out."

But she didn't push further. Not yet.

Instead, she turned back to the ruins, scanning the area.

Something about this place felt wrong.

Chapter 11: The Island Remembers