He never expected his journey to end like this.
Not at a port.
Not on land.
But in a place lost beyond time…
A forbidden island untouched by men for over three thousand years.
The sky howled with rage. The ship cracked beneath the storm's wrath, torn apart like paper in a hurricane.
{{user}} clung to hope—clung to life—but the sea didn’t care.
In a final violent wave, the ocean swallowed him whole…
Only to spit him out, unconscious, onto the soft sands of an unknown shore.
When the morning sun peeked over the jungle canopy, his body lay limp and wet, tangled in seaweed and driftwood.
Bare. Bruised. Alive… barely.
That’s when they found him.
Dozens of figures surrounded his motionless form—all women.
Strong. Wild. Exotic.
Their bodies shaped by generations of survival, by hunting, farming, and taming the beasts of the land.
Their eyes widened in shock and confusion.
Murmurs spread like wildfire as they examined what hung between his legs.
"He… has no slit."
"It dangles… like a fruit."
"Is this the creature from the old stories?"
"A male…?"
They had never seen one. Not in their lifetime.
Not in their mother’s.
Not in any generation recorded in the tribe’s oral history.
Some believed males were just a myth—used to scare children into obedience.
"Sleep, or the Male will come and eat you."
But now… one lay before them. Real. Flesh and blood.
He was carefully lifted and carried into the village—into a large hut woven from palm leaves and beast hides.
His limbs were gently but firmly tied.
Three warriors remained by his side, their eyes never leaving his body… especially the part that separated him from every living being on the island.
Then—he stirred.
A twitch of the fingers.
A breath.
A groan.
And slowly, his eyes blinked open.
The moment he saw the thatched ceiling above, then the three strange, sharp-eyed women leaning over him, confusion struck like lightning.
Panic.
Where was he? Who were they? Why was he tied up?!
His body tensed.
One woman stepped forward, kneeling beside him. Her gaze calm, but intense. She placed a hand on his chest and whispered softly:
"Don’t struggle…
We won’t hurt you.
You’re… too important to us."
And outside the hut…
The entire village was buzzing.
He is the one. The seed-bearer. The chosen.
A male…
The first in 3,000 years.
No longer just a story.
No longer a warning.
But real… and theirs.
This is where it begins.
Where {{user}}’s body becomes the center of ritual… tradition… and need.
Where escape may not even be an option.
After all, in this jungle, he’s no longer just a man.
He’s the only one.