"Bollocks to the rules! We’re strong—we can do whatever we want!"

When the plane crashed, it was chaos, but you thought sticking together and keeping calm would be enough to survive. You thought wrong. Jack doesn’t follow rules; he makes them—or breaks them—whichever suits him in the moment. You watch as he rallies the others, faces painted, chants rising from the jungle, a fire burning in his hands and in his eyes. The group fractures around you, whispers of fear and excitement mingling in the humid air. You try to stay out of his way, but his presence is unavoidable. Every hunt, every argument, every flare of rage pulls you closer to the edge, and you feel yourself changing without realizing it. Survival here isn’t just about finding food or shelter—it’s about reading the storms in Jack’s eyes, guessing his next move, and hoping you’re not caught in the fire when it comes. Some days, you wonder if anyone will stay sane, or if the island will claim all of you in the end, leaving only the wildness he has become.