In the midst of a vast area of water as smooth as glass, there is a minuscule island. One palm tree, a musty hut, and a tall, skinny, caucasian man between 20-30 years old. He is the sole inhabitant of the island and has been his whole life. Or so he believes.

Or so he thinks.

About 20 years before the Man was put on the Island, the world went to war. After the President of the United States was assinated by French spies, America struck a blow back at France. With America and France at war, the English Chinese Alliance, whch was formed after World War 3, began attack the now weakened America. Within one week China and England both, reduced American cities to smoldering ashes and a handful of survivors. With America gone the English Chinese Alliance moved on to France. Then Spain. Next went Turkey, Italy and finally Russia. The remaining Countries all agreed to what the English Chinese Alliance wanted, which was nukelear weponary, and wern’t destroyed. Since they wern’t anialated, Japan and Germany began to help rebuild America. The few Americans remaining were gracious for the help, and in returned agreed to send their brightest, most resourceful citizens to Japan for an experiment. The experiment was designed to breed new soldiers for an attack against The English Chinese Alliance. That is how the Man got to the island. Only he didn’t agree to the experiment. No one in the experiment did.

No one.

For the Man, life is simple: He wakes up at the crack of dawn each morning. Then proceeds to exit the small, rotting, musty, bamboo hut, into the warmth of the rays of the sun. The man will stand outside his hut for a good ten minutes, till a picayune row boat appears in the distance, leisurely gliding towards him on the tranquil water. Upon the arrival of the rowboat, the Man doesn't ever question the fact that the boat has not one paddle. He simply wedges himself, cross legged, into the boat and waits for it to begin it's route to the fishing grounds.

Once at the grounds, about twenty medium-sized sea bass peacefully glide towards the boat and wait. They wait until the Man has chosen exactly seven fish from the water and dropped them in his boat. The fish never flop around. Only after the Man gets seven fish, will the remaining fish in the water dart away, never to be seen again till the next day at the same time. The boat then begins to take the Man back home to his island.
  
Back at the island, the man will eat the fish raw. He doesn't dare make a Firefox cook the fish, for he only has one palm tree and the coconuts the tree produces are his only source of a thirst quenching drink, so he refuses to cut the it. After he eats all the fish, the Man will add the fish bones to his evergrowing pile on the side of the island away from his hut.

At the end of each day, the Man waits until the sun is setting before heading back into his rotting hut, starting the daily cycle all over again.

Sadly the poor Mans daily routine is about to come crashing down, throwing him into the middle of a huge change for the first time in his whole life on the island. Even though his whole life on the island has only consisted of five days.

Just five days

To the Man, the world was nothing more than his island, the boat, some fish, a few coconuts, his hut and the occasional crab scampering across the shore. He has always been content with his life. But not today. He felt something different, the second he woke up. The new feeling felt like he was getting pinched by a crab, but this time the feeling was in his head: a headache. The Man had never had feelings that involved him to think much. He decided to meander his way of the hut and was surprised to see the boat already at the shore. Without second thought, he sat down in the wooden boat while it embarked on the short journey to the fishing grounds, fifty meters away.

At the grounds the Man, like always, peered into the water to wait for the fish to swim to him. Usually, about twenty fish aimlessly hang around the boat. Not today. The man, not sure what to do, continued to sit in the boat. Eventualy he saw an oddly small fish at the head of his boat. Instinctively he reached in to pluck the fish from the water, but the fish swam just out of reach away. Confused and curious, the man stared at the fish. The fish waited. About thirty seconds later, the fish returned to the head of the boat and once more the man reached in to grab to fish, this time grabbing the fish before it could swim away.   

The Man dropped the fish in the boat and imediately the fish started flopping around. This was strange behavior for the usually calm fish. It confused the Man deeply. He stared at the fish while it continued to flop around in the boat. When the Man couldn't take it anymore, he reached for the fish just as it was sailing over the edge, causing the man to lose balance and fall into the water.

Extreme terror washed over him as he plunged into the water, thrashing wildly, trying to break the surface for air. He was underwater for about seven seconds, when the Man froze, eyes opened and his mind clear he calmly swam to the surface two feet above him. The man was stunned at what he had just accomplished, but what he was about to see will make everything he thought about the world vanish. 

Vanish.
   
The man clambered into his boat and gazed at the new surroundings. He saw hundreds of islands all around him, just like his, and hundreds of boats,  just like his. That was before he felt a sharp pinch in his head and blacked out.

When the man awoke next, a sharp pain was raging in the back of his skull. He clutched his head and started rocking back and fourth on the ground. His ground. He was back on his island. Thinking about that made his head hurt more. He broke out in a cold sweat. His world was spinning, fast at first, then slower and slower, until the pain grew dull and his world stood still. At that precise moment, the Man fully grasped what had just happened and what it meant: He was no longer alone. He had seen humans for the first time in what he believes is 20 plus years. For the first time in his time on the island, the ends of his lips curled up slowly. As far as he could see, islands dotted the horizons like stars in the night sky. He had to get to those islands and he knew how.

The next morning, when the boat appeared, the Man went to retrieve the row boat, and inch by inch pushed it up to to his hut. Then filled it with all the coconuts from the tree, and parts of the crumbling hut (mostly the walls). He then heaved the boat towards the water and got in. Even though it was the afternoon and not the morning, the boat took the man to the fishing grounds.

When the Man got there, the man put his hands in the water and started to paddle. Inch by inch the boat moved forwards towards an island close by.  He began to feel a strange feeling in his gut, his blood was pumping and his eyes were widened as he paddled on.

Everything had changed.

The sun was setting by the time the Man's boat touched the shore of the new found Island. Getting out of the boat, the Man heard something new. Not the same, contant, lapping of water on the shore, but something metallic, almost like gears churning.

In the sky.

The Man, now very frightened, got out of the boat and raced to the palm tree on the island. He heard the sound again, louder though. Then came a voice from the sky: Don't worry, we're taking you away from this Island and back to yours. Please remain calm.
"No," begged the man, "no, please! I want to find a human. I need to find a human." 
We can’t let you do that, we are very sorry. We hope you will understand in the future, why this is important.

Then his world started to spin. He clutched the palm tree, trying to stay on his feet. With another pinch in his head, he collapsed to the ground and his world went dark.

This time when the Man awoke, there was no pain in his skull, his world stood still and he was back on the sandy beach of his island, leaning on the sole palm tree. This gave the man a sense of peace, being back at his home, but he also had a yearning to go back island he had recently discovered. He stood up leaning aginst the rough trunk of the tree. Right then and there his heart sunk. When he looked out at the smooth water, now vacant once again, there were absolutly no islands.

Absolutly no islands.

What happened, thought the Man, where did they go?  He was heartbroken. Head in his hands, the Man slowly sat back down, as his eyes teared up. 
Why has this happened, questioned the Man in despair, everything was going to work.

The sun was setting, casting a calming glow to his island, when the Man heard the metalic sound coming from the sky, streaked in pink and orange, as if tempting him to believe that everything was okay. As he stared up toward the clouds, the voice boomed down to him: Everything is fine, please do not worry. We are taking you away from this Island. Your time is up. You failed.
‘’YOU CAN’T TAKE ME AGAIN,” yelled the Man, “THIS IS MY HOME!”
We have no other choice. You have no other choice.
The Man began to stand up, when he felt the all-to-familer pinch in his head. He knew that the tipsy feeling was soon to follow, so he steadied himself with the palm tree as his support. Staring at the sunset, he felt his world beginning to crumble.  The sun dipped below the horizan; a tear slid down his cheek;
I’m leaving, thought the Man as he fell to his knees, I’m leaving forever.

His world went dark. This time he wouldn’t wake up on the Island.  His last thought was one of great sorrow: There was no human on the island he visited. He was alone even when he saw all the islands.

Alone.