The producer smiles.

They do it. Soaked, gasping, bleeding from scrapes, they emerge into the Greek moonlight. The moray eel never leaves its cage. The real monster was their own fear.

A producer's laptop. An email drafts:

The final immunity challenge. A giant wooden structure built over a tidal pool. The celebrities must crawl through a submerged, pitch-black tunnel that fills with water as the tide rises. Inside: mechanical octopus arms that grab ankles, speakers playing submarine sonar pings, and—the piece de resistance—a tank of live European eels and a single, harmless but terrifying-looking Mediterranean moray eel in a mesh cage.

Below, the island isn't a lush paradise. It's a geological sneer—jagged limestone, phrygana shrubs that smell of oregano and decay, and a central plateau where an abandoned marble quarry has been transformed into "Camp Minos."