Chapter Text
Tribes:
Misini Tribe:
- Zach Taylor - MMPR Black
- Trini Kwan - MMPR Yellow
- Minh Kwan - MMPR Yellow
- Corcus - Alien Black
- Auric the Conqueror - Zeo
- Theodore ‘T.J.’ Johnson - Turbo Red
- Justin Stewart - Turbo Blue
- Blue Senturian - Turbo
- Phantom Ranger - Turbo
- Zhane - In Space Silver
- Psycho Black - In Space
- Kai Chen - Lost Galaxy Blue
- Karone - Lost Galaxy Pink
- Mike Corbett - Lost Galaxy Magna Defender
- Joel Rawling - Lightspeed Rescue Green
- Kelsey Winslow - Lightspeed Rescue Yellow
- Dana Mitchell - Lightspeed Rescue Pink
- Katie Walker - Time Force Yellow
- Jen Scotts - Time Force Pink
- Shane Clarke - Ninja Storm Red
- Dustin Brooks - Ninja Storm Yellow
- Cam Watanabe - Ninja Storm Green
- Trent Fernandez-Mercer - Dino Thunder White
- Sky Tate - SPD Blue
- Z Delgado - SPD Yellow
- Sam - SPD Omega
- Kat Manx - SPD Kat
- Boom - SPD Orange
- Charlie - SPD A-Squad Red
- A-Squad Pink - SPD
- Madison Rocca - Mystic Force Blue
- Dax Lo - Operation Overdrive Blue
- Will Aston - Operation Overdrive Black
- Rose Ortiz - Operation Overdrive Pink
- Robert ‘RJ’ James - Jungle Fury Wolf
- Dominic Hargan - Jungle Fury Rhino
- Master Finn - Jungle Fury Shark
- Master Phant - Jungle Fury Elephant
- Summer Landsdown - RPM Yellow
- Jayden Shiba - Samurai Red
- Antonio Garcia - Samurai Gold
- Emma Goodall - Megaforce Pink
- Riley Griffin - Dino Charge Green
- Sir Ivan - Dino Charge Gold
- Preston Tien - Ninja Steel Blue
- Levi Weston - Ninja Steel Gold
- Sheriff Skyfire - Ninja Steel
- Nate Silva - Beast Morphers Gold
- Steel Silva - Beast Morphers Silver
- Captain Chaku - Beast Morphers
- Zayto - Dino Fury Red
- Amelia Jones - Dino Fury Pink
- Aiyon - Dino Fury Gold
- Terrick - Dino Fury Void Knight
Manuma Tribe:
- Jason Scott - MMPR Red
- Billy Cranston - MMPR Blue
- Kimberly Hart - MMPR Pink
- Delphine - Alien White
- Cestro - Alien Blue
- Tideus - Alien Yellow
- Tanya Sloan - Zeo Yellow
- Carlos Vallerte - Turbo Green
- Andros - In Space Red
- Psycho Red - In Space
- Psycho Blue - In Space
- Psycho Yellow - In Space
- Psycho Pink - In Space
- Damon Henderson - Lost Galaxy Green
- Carter Grayson - Lightspeed Rescue Red
- Chad Lee - Lightspeed Rescue Blue
- Wes Collins - Time Force Red
- Lucas Kendall - Time Force Blue
- Trip - Time Force Green
- Cole Evans - Wild Force Red
- Merrick Balliton - Wild Force Lunar Wolf
- Hunter Bradley - Ninja Storm Crimson
- Blake Bradley - Ninja Storm Navy
- Conner McKnight - Dino Thunder Red
- A-Squad Blue - SPD Blue
- Nova - SPD Nova
- Chip Thorn - Mystic Force Yellow
- Daggeron - Mystic Force Solaris Knight
- Udonna - Mystic Force White
- Leanbow - Mystic Force Wolf Warrior
- Tyzonn - Operation Overdrive Mercury
- Sentinel Knight - Operation Overdrive
- Casey Rhodes - Jungle Fury Red
- Theo Martin - Jungle Fury Blue
- Lily Chillman - Jungle Fury Yellow
- Master Swoop - Jungle Fury Bat
- Jarrod - Jungle Fury Lion
- Camille - Jungle Fury Chameleon
- Scott Truman - RPM Red
- Gem - RPM Gold
- Gemma - RPM Silver
- Kevin - Samurai Blue
- Emily - Samurai Yellow
- Mike - Samurai Green
- Noah Carver - Megaforce Blue
- Tyler Navarro - Dino Charge Red
- Koda - Dino Charge Blue
- Shelby Wattkins - Dino Charge Pink
- Kendall Morgan - Dino Charge Purple
- James Navarro - Dino Charge Aqua
- Heckyl - Dino Charge Dark
- Calvin Maxwell - Ninja Steel Yellow
- Hayley Foster - Ninja Steel White
- Ollie Akana - Dino Fury Blue
Vakasa Tribe:
- Aisha Campbell - MMPR Yellow
- Tommy Oliver - MMPR Green
- Aurico - Alien Red
- Rocky DeSantos - Zeo Blue
- Adam Park - Zeo Green
- Katherine Hillard - Zeo Pink
- Ashley Hammond - Turbo Yellow
- Cassie Chan - Turbo Pink
- Leo Corbett - Lost Galaxy Red
- Maya - Lost Galaxy Yellow
- Kendrix Morgan - Lost Galaxy Pink
- Magna Defender - Lost Galaxy
- Ryan Mitchell - Lightspeed Rescue Silver
- Alex Drake - Time Force Red
- Eric Myers - Time Force Quantum
- Max Cooper - Wild Force Blue
- Taylor Earhardt - Wild Force Yellow
- Danny Delgado - Wild Force Black
- Alyssa Enrille - Wild Force White
- Tori Hanson - Ninja Storm Blue
- Ethan James - Dino Thunder Blue
- Kira Ford - Dino Thunder Yellow
- Jack Landors - SPD Red
- Bridge Carson - SPD Green
- Syd Drew - SPD Pink
- Commander Cruger - SPD Shadow
- A-Squad Green - SPD
- A-Squad Yellow - SPD
- Nick Russell - Mystic Force Red
- Xander Bli - Mystic Force Green
- Vida Rocca - Mystic Force Pink
- Claire - Mystic Force Gatekeeper
- Mack Hartford - Operation Overdrive Red
- Ronny Robinson - Operation Overdrive Yellow
- Flynn McAllister - RPM Blue
- Dillon - RPM Black
- Ziggy Grover - RPM Green
- Mia Watanabe - Samurai Pink
- Troy Burrows - Megaforce Red
- Gia Moran - Megaforce Yellow
- Jake Holling - Megaforce Black
- Robo Knight - Megaforce
- Orion - Super Megaforce Silver
- Chase Randall - Dino Charge Black
- Prince Phillip - Dino Charge Graphite
- Zenowing - Dino Charge Silver
- Brody Romero - Ninja Steel Red
- Sarah Thompson - Ninja Steel Pink
- Devon Daniels - Beast Morphers Red
- Ravi Shaw - Beast Morphers Blue
- Zoey Reeves - Beast Morphers Yellow
- Izzy Garcia - Dino Fury Green
- Javi Garcia - Dino Fury Black
- Fern - Cosmic Fury Orange
The banners snap violently in the wind.
Black and silver. Red. Gold.
One hundred and sixty-two legends—heroes, antiheroes, former villains, commanders, soldiers, and civilians who once saved the universe—stand barefoot in the sand, stripped down to nothing but buffs, clothes, and reputation.
For the first time in their lives, there is no command center. No Alpha. No Zordon. No Grid humming beneath their skin.
Just heat. Salt. Hunger.
And Jeff Probst.
The camera glides down the Misini line first.
Zach Taylor cracks his neck, eyes scanning the competition with a dancer’s looseness that barely hides his focus. Trini Kwan stands calm beside Minh, both composed, both already thinking three moves ahead. Zhane flashes a cocky grin, twirling his buff once before slipping it on. Karone’s expression doesn’t move at all—she’s used to being judged before she speaks.
Further down, Psycho Black stands unnervingly still, helmetless but no less terrifying, eyes locked forward. Even Blue Senturion, posture perfect, seems… uncertain.
Across the sand, Manuma looks like a war council frozen in time.
Jason Scott’s jaw is set, instinctively counting heads. Billy Cranston squints toward the treeline, already cataloging resources. Kimberly shifts her weight, exhaling slowly—she’s smiling, but it’s the kind of smile that comes before a storm.
Andros doesn’t look at anyone. The Psychos, standing near him, do—grins sharp, eager, predatory.
Carter Grayson’s arms are crossed. Wes Collins looks thoughtful. Jarrod’s gaze burns with something unresolved.
Vakasa, meanwhile, radiates quiet confidence.
Tommy Oliver stands near the center, arms loose at his sides, unreadable. Aisha glances between tribes, lips pressed thin. Adam Park nods once to Rocky, who gives a subtle grin back.
Bridge Carson hums under his breath, eyes unfocused. Syd Drew checks her nails like she’s bored—but she’s listening to everything. Commander Cruger stands ramrod straight, tail flicking once behind him.
Jeff lets the silence stretch.
JEFF
You’re probably wondering why you’re here.
A few chuckles ripple through the crowd. Someone mutters, “Because you asked?”
Jeff smiles wider.
JEFF
You’ve all saved the world. Some of you—multiple worlds. You’ve fought monsters, empires, even each other.
He steps forward, sand crunching under his boots.
JEFF
But Survivor doesn’t care about your legacy.
A beat.
JEFF
Out here, strength gets you noticed. Leadership gets you targeted. And trust?
He shrugs.
JEFF
Trust gets you blindsided.
That lands.
Tommy exhales through his nose. Jason’s eyes flick—just once—toward him.
JEFF (CONT’D)
You are divided into three tribes. Misini. Manuma. Vakasa. These tribes are not balanced by power, color, or era. They are balanced by potential for chaos.
A ripple of laughter, quickly swallowed by nerves.
JEFF
Right now, you’re standing at the only place in this game where everyone is equal.
He gestures behind him.
JEFF
Because waiting for you… is everything you need to survive the first phase of this game.
The camera whips around.
A massive platform rises just offshore, lashed together from wreckage, crates, and tangled netting. Supplies glint in the sun—machetes, pots, flint, rope, rice barrels, and sealed chests marked with unfamiliar symbols.
And something else.
Three towering immunity idols—one black and silver, one red, one gold—loom at the center of the platform.
A murmur breaks out instantly.
JEFF
You’ll notice the platform is not… close.
Waves slam against its base as if on cue.
JEFF
When I say go, you will race into the water. You may grab whatever you want—but once it’s gone, it’s gone. No do-overs.
He locks eyes with the tribes, one by one.
JEFF
And just so we’re clear—there are no powers allowed. If you try to morph, summon, or cheat the game in any way?
Jeff pauses, then grins.
JEFF
You’re gone.
Dead silence.
JEFF
This is Survivor.
He raises his arm.
JEFF
Survivors ready?
A hundred and sixty-two breaths hold at once.
JEFF
GO!
Chaos erupts.
The beach explodes into motion as bodies surge forward. Misini hits the water hard—Auric charging like a battering ram, Mike Corbett wading in beside him. Manuma splinters instantly, Jason shouting orders while the Psychos ignore them entirely and dive ahead. Vakasa moves with eerie coordination—Leo, Tommy, and Adam forming a wedge through the surf.
Crates tip. Barrels spill. Someone yells as a rope snaps taut and drags two Rangers into the water.
Jeff watches it all, hands on hips, eyes gleaming.
JEFF (V.O.)
One hundred and sixty-two legends just became castaways.
The camera pulls back—wide, sweeping, epic—as the tribes clash in the surf, scrambling for survival.
And somewhere beneath the roar of the waves, the game truly begins.
MISINI TRIBE – CAMP (DAY 1)
The Misini beach is all jagged rocks and thick treeline—no easy shelter, no natural clearing. The surf pounds hard enough that every raised voice has to fight to be heard.
Zach Taylor is already moving.
ZACH
Alright—first things first. Shelter, fire, water. We split up.
He points instinctively, like he’s done this a hundred times before.
ZACH (CONT’D)
Joel, Kelsey—help me scout shelter spots. Trini, Minh, see if there’s a fresh water source. T.J., inventory what we grabbed.
No one argues.
That alone says something.
T.J. nods, immediately kneeling near the pile of supplies. Justin Stewart crouches beside him, earnest and focused, scribbling marks in the sand.
JUSTIN
Okay, uh—rice is sealed, machete’s here, flint’s here—
T.J. smiles faintly.
T.J.
Good work, man. Keep going.
Nearby, Blue Senturian grips one of the heavier crates and hoists it clean off the ground, servos whirring faintly.
JOEL RAWLINGS
Uh—big guy? Maybe teamwork?
Blue Senturian pauses. Processes.
BLUE SENTURIAN
Teamwork acknowledged.
He lowers the crate carefully. Boom lets out a relieved breath.
BOOM
Thank you. My spine thanks you.
A few feet away, Psycho Black stands perfectly still.
Not working. Not talking.
Just watching.
Karone notices immediately.
Her eyes flick from Psycho Black to the others, then back again.
KARONE (confessional)
I know what it’s like to be defined by who you were. The question is… does he want to change? Or is he just waiting?
Zhane tosses a bundle of palm fronds onto the sand near Mike Corbett.
ZHANE
Shelter looks rough. High tide’ll eat anything too close.
MIKE
Then we build back in the trees. Slower, but safer.
They exchange a quiet nod—no handshake, no words. Just mutual understanding.
Aiyon strolls past carrying bamboo over one shoulder, grinning like this is a beach vacation.
Aiyon
You know, I thought no powers would make this harder. But this? This is fun.
Terrick—Void Knight—doesn’t respond. He drags a log into position with grim efficiency, eyes fixed on the ground. Zayto watches him for a long moment before turning back to work.
At the treeline, Trini and Minh kneel near a shallow dip in the ground.
MINH
Smells damp. Could be runoff.
TRINI
Or could be nothing. We mark it and keep looking.
They move with quiet coordination, their blood relation only enhancing their resolve.
Back at camp, RJ claps his hands together once.
RJ
Alright, everybody—real talk for a sec.
A few heads turn.
RJ
We’ve got a lot of leaders here. That’s cool. But if everyone’s calling shots, nobody’s listening.
Zach glances over, curious but not defensive.
ZACH
So what are you suggesting?
RJ smiles, easy.
RJ
You’re doing fine. Just… let people play to their strengths.
Dom hefts a log and grins.
DOM
Translation: don’t tell me how to carry stuff.
Zach laughs, holding up his hands.
ZACH
Fair.
Nearby, Sky Tate watches everything with a tactician’s eye, arms crossed.
SKY (confessional)
Zach’s got natural command presence. That makes him useful… and dangerous. Early leaders don’t win Survivor. They get remembered.
A sudden crash—a stack of bamboo collapses as Dustin trips over it.
DUSTIN
Ow! Okay, yeah, that’s on me.
Madison helps him up, brushing sand off his arm.
MADISON
First day injuries. Classic.
Cam adjusts his glasses, already tying lashings with practiced precision.
CAM
If we anchor this crossbeam here, it’ll hold through rain.
Trent watches him, impressed.
TRENT
You’ve done this before.
CAM
Something like it.
As the sun begins to dip lower, the shelter takes shape—uneven, imperfect, but real.
Zach surveys the camp, hands on hips. It’s not pretty, but it’s progress.
His gaze drifts—unavoidably—to Psycho Black.
ZACH
You gonna help? Or just stare us down all day?
The camp goes quiet.
Psycho Black turns his head slowly.
PSYCHO BLACK
I am helping.
A beat.
PSYCHO BLACK
You just don’t understand how yet.
No one laughs.
Karone steps forward, breaking the tension.
KARONE
We’ll see.
The camera pulls back as Misini continues working—alliances forming in silence, fractures appearing beneath cooperation.
This tribe is strong.
But strength has never been the same thing as unity.
And on Survivor, unity is everything.
MANUMA TRIBE – CAMP (DAY 1)
Manuma’s beach feels smaller than it should.
Voices overlap. Footsteps cross. Three different plans are shouted at once.
Jason Scott stands near the supply pile, hands on hips, posture relaxed but authoritative.
JASON
We’ve got experience here. Let’s not overthink it. Shelter up, food sorted, then fire.
Heads nod—some out of trust, some out of habit.
Billy Cranston is already ignoring half the noise, snapping bamboo together with surgical precision.
BILLY
Statistically speaking, we should prioritize structure before fire. A stable shelter reduces energy expenditure long-term.
CARLOS
Man, it’s day one, not a science fair.
A few people chuckle.
Billy blinks, then smiles awkwardly.
BILLY
That… is a fair critique.
Carlos tosses his buff over his shoulder and grabs a machete, slicing vines with casual confidence.
CARLOS
I’m just saying—half the tribe’s arguing, the other half’s working. Survivor doesn’t grade on a curve.
Carter Grayson gives Carlos an approving nod as he drags a log into place.
CARTER
I like him.
Nearby, Wes Collins watches the interaction carefully, eyes flicking between Jason and Carlos.
WES (confessional)
Jason’s the kind of leader people fall in line behind. Carlos? He’s the kind people talk to. That’s dangerous in a different way.
At the edge of camp, the Psycho Rangers sit together in a tight cluster, whispering in harsh, alien syllables. Their laughter—sharp and rhythmic—cuts through the beach noise like broken glass.
KIMBERLY (confessional)
I’ve fought monsters before. Living with them? Totally different story.
She glances over as Psycho Pink tilts her head, eyes locking with Kimberly’s for just a second too long.
Andros stands apart, arms crossed, jaw clenched. His stare never leaves Psycho Red.
ANDROS (confessional)
If they get control of this tribe, we’re done. And if anyone forgets what they are… I won’t.
Delphine steps toward Andros, voice calm.
DELPHINE
They are not mindless beasts. They can be reasoned with.
ANDROS
You didn’t watch them attempt to murder your team.
A beat.
Delphine doesn’t flinch.
Back at the shelter frame, Billy and Noah Carver compare knots.
NOAH
I mean, this is basically a group project with hunger.
BILLY
And no rubric.
They share a quiet laugh.
Carlos wanders over to Tyler Navarro and Koda, who are struggling to position a beam.
CARLOS
Alright, scoot. You’re lifting with ego, not legs.
He demonstrates, effortless.
TYLER
You always like this?
CARLOS
Only when I’m right.
Koda grins.
KODA
I like him.
Not far away, Hunter and Blake Bradley argue in low voices.
HUNTER
We don’t need Jason calling every shot.
BLAKE
Yeah, but he’s already doing it.
Camille watches from the shade, eyes calculating.
CAMILLE (confessional)
Heroes always assume they’ll be followed. They forget that monsters know how to wait.
A sudden metallic clang echoes as Gem drops part of a crate.
GEM
Oops.
GEMMA
You always oops.
GEM
That’s my brand!
Even Jason cracks a smile.
Jason steps back, surveying the chaos, then raises his voice.
JASON
Alright—everyone listen up!
The noise dips, but doesn’t vanish.
JASON
We don’t need perfection today. Just something that won’t collapse and kill us in our sleep.
CARLOS
Low bar, but achievable.
Laughter breaks the tension.
Jason glances at Carlos, amused despite himself.
JASON
You got suggestions?
Carlos shrugs.
CARLOS
Yeah. Stop talking. Start building. And maybe don’t put all the decision-making on one guy.
A few people freeze.
Jason studies him for a moment—then nods.
JASON
Fair.
That concession lands heavier than any argument.
As the sun lowers, Manuma’s shelter finally starts to resemble something functional. Not elegant. Not unified.
But standing.
Carlos wipes sweat from his brow, leaning against a post. Kimberly steps up beside him.
KIMBERLY
You’re not wrong, you know.
CARLOS
About what?
KIMBERLY
Leadership. Sometimes it’s not the loudest voice.
Carlos smirks.
CARLOS
Good. I was worried I said that out loud.
The camera drifts back to the Psycho Rangers, still whispering. Psycho Red’s eyes flick briefly toward Carlos—measuring.
Carlos feels it. Doesn’t look.
CARLOS (confessional)
I’ve played on teams where one wrong move gets you benched. Here? One wrong alliance gets you gone.
He exhales.
CARLOS (CONT’D)
And I don’t plan on being first.
The Manuma camp buzzes into the evening—too many leaders, too many secrets, and one tribe already pulling itself apart at the seams.
Somewhere in the noise, the game sharpens its knives.
VAKASA TRIBE – CAMP (DAY 1)
Vakasa’s beach opens into a natural clearing—wide, shaded, forgiving.
The difference is immediate.
No shouting. No scrambling. Just motion.
People do things.
Tommy Oliver stands at the edge of camp, arms loosely crossed, eyes tracking the flow. He doesn’t bark orders. He doesn’t insert himself.
He lets it happen.
TOMMY (confessional)
I’ve been the leader my whole life. This time? I want to see who steps up. And who people listen to when I don’t say a word.
Near the center, Katherine Hillard kneels in the sand, sketching a rough layout with a stick.
KATHERINE
If we angle the shelter here, it’ll catch the breeze and keep rain out.
Adam Park nods, already measuring distances by eye.
ADAM
Rocky, can you anchor that side?
ROCKY
On it.
It’s seamless. Old Zeo instincts snapping back into place like muscle memory.
Aisha Campbell approaches, hands on hips, surveying the site.
AISHA
I can help reinforce the roof. I’ve built worse.
Taylor Earhardt pauses nearby, watching.
TAYLOR (confessional)
They’re efficient. Comfortable. That usually means bonded.
She frowns slightly.
And bonded groups don’t notice who they’re leaving out.
Down the line, Zenowing works methodically, binding poles with exacting precision. Ziggy Grover is helping—emphasis on trying.
Ziggy hoists a beam, misjudges the weight, and the half-built wall collapses in a soft avalanche of leaves and bamboo.
ZIGGY
Hey! Structural integrity is a suggestion.
Laughter ripples through the camp—light, unforced.
Zenowing pauses, then calmly starts rebuilding.
ZENOWING
Suggestion rejected.
Flynn McAllister snorts.
FLYNN
Harsh, but fair.
Nearby, Dillon sharpens a blade in silence. His eyes flick briefly toward Ziggy—then away.
Mia Watanabe kneels beside Sarah Thompson, sorting supplies.
MIA
We actually have enough rice if we ration.
SARAH
People don’t like that word.
MIA
They’ll like starving less.
At the water’s edge, Jack Landors and Bridge Carson crouch, washing sand off their hands.
BRIDGE
I’m getting a really good vibe here.
JACK
That’s either great news or we’re doomed.
BRIDGE
Both can be true.
Commander Cruger stands slightly apart, posture impeccable. He says nothing, but his presence subtly straightens spines.
CRUGER (confessional)
Discipline doesn’t require orders. It requires example.
Eric Myers watches Cruger with narrowed eyes, arms folded.
ERIC (confessional)
This tribe’s got too many commanders and not enough soldiers. Eventually, someone’s gonna push back.
Nearby, Alex Drake speaks quietly with Troy Burrows and Mack Hartford.
ALEX
We don’t need a leader yet. Just cohesion.
MACK
Cohesion turns into hierarchy fast.
TROY
Only if we let it.
Alyssa Enrille helps Vida Rocca weave palm fronds together, their conversation easy and soft.
VIDA
So far? I like this tribe.
ALYSSA
Give it time.
Across camp, Robo Knight stands motionless, analyzing.
ROBO KNIGHT
Labor distribution is optimal.
Jake Holling peers up at him.
JAKE
…Cool?
Orion sits on a log, cleaning a blade, eyes flicking between groups—always observing, never joining.
ORION (confessional)
Everyone thinks calm means safe. Calm just means people are hiding what they want.
As the shelter takes shape, Tommy finally steps forward—not to command, but to contribute. He lifts a beam, slots it into place beside Adam without comment.
Adam glances at him, surprised.
ADAM
You’ve been quiet.
TOMMY
Listening.
A beat.
ADAM smiles.
As the sun dips lower, Vakasa’s camp stands complete—clean, sturdy, efficient.
Too efficient.
Tommy looks around the circle forming naturally around the shelter. Old bonds. New respect. Unspoken divides.
TOMMY (confessional)
This tribe could go far.
He exhales.
Which means when it cracks… it’s going to crack hard.
The camera pulls back.
Vakasa laughs, works, settles.
A tribe at peace.
For now.
THE CHALLENGE – CHAOS AND CONTROL
The three tribes stand on raised wooden platforms over the surf.
In front of each player: a narrow handle. Suspended beneath it—two small metal coins, balanced on thin cords, swaying gently in the ocean wind.
Jeff Probst steps forward.
JEFF
This challenge is about control.
He gestures to the coins.
JEFF (CONT’D)
Grip the handle. Keep the coins from touching. If they clink—you’re out. Last tribe with players remaining wins immunity.
He locks eyes with them.
JEFF
You drop—you step off. No substitutions.
A beat.
JEFF
Survivors ready?
One hundred sixty-two grips tighten.
JEFF
GO!
The wind picks up immediately.
Coins sway.
Arms tense.
Within seconds, small tremors ripple through the lines.
Justin Stewart’s hands begin to shake almost instantly.
JUSTIN
Okay—okay—
CLINK.
Justin’s coins touch.
JEFF
Justin is out.
Misini barely reacts. No panic. Just focus.
Justin steps back, embarrassed but relieved. T.J. gives him a quick thumbs-up.
T.J.
You’re good, man.
On Manuma, Carlos Vallerte’s stance loosens. He adjusts his grip too fast—
CLINK.
CARLOS
Aw, come on!
He slaps his thigh, frustrated.
Jason exhales sharply.
JASON
Shake it off.
CARLOS (confessional)
First out for us? That’s a target, man. I don’t like that at all.
Vakasa, by contrast, looks statuesque.
Tommy Oliver’s breathing is slow, measured. Eric Myers’ arm doesn’t move an inch.
ERIC (confessional)
Pain is temporary. Losing isn’t.
Minutes pass.
Sweat beads. Forearms burn.
Psycho Yellow’s coins begin to sway violently.
PSYCHO YELLOW
—KRRR—
CLINK.
JEFF
Psycho Yellow is out.
Psycho Pink lasts seconds longer—her grip overcorrects.
CLINK.
JEFF
Psycho Pink is out.
The remaining Psychos hiss among themselves, but Andros doesn’t react.
He doesn’t blink.
ANDROS (confessional)
I don’t care who’s left. I’m not dropping.
Misini begins to assert dominance.
Trent Fernandez-Mercer’s jaw is clenched, but steady. Cam Watanabe adjusts micro-movements with surgical precision. Jen Scotts’ posture is perfect—no wasted motion. RJ breathes through the pain, eyes half-lidded.
RJ (confessional)
This isn’t strength. It’s patience.
Vakasa loses Ziggy first.
Ziggy’s coins wobble wildly.
ZIGGY
Nope—nope—nope—
CLINK.
JEFF
Ziggy is out!
Ziggy laughs as he steps down.
ZIGGY
Yeah, that tracks.
Danny Delgado drops moments later—grit giving way to fatigue.
JEFF
Danny is out.
Vakasa still holds a formidable core: Tommy. Eric. Adam. Leo. Cruger. Zenowing.
Manuma begins bleeding players fast.
Gem drops—then Gemma right after.
JEFF
Gem is out!
Gemma is out!
Kimberly grits her teeth. Billy’s glasses slide slightly down his nose, but he doesn’t dare adjust them.
Jason’s coins start to wobble.
JASON
Come on… come on…
CLINK.
JEFF
Jason is out!
A stunned beat.
Jason steps down, jaw tight.
Billy swallows.
BILLY (confessional)
Statistically, this is where things go wrong.
They do.
Billy’s hands tremble just enough—
CLINK.
JEFF
Billy is out!
Kimberly’s breathing becomes audible. Her wrist shakes.
Andros is trembling violently—but still holding.
KIMBERLY
Andros—focus—
Her sword tilts.
CLINK.
JEFF
Kimberly is out!
The beach is dead silent.
All eyes on Andros.
His arms are screaming. His teeth grind. Sweat drips into the sand.
The coins sway.
For a moment—he has it.
Then—
CLINK.
JEFF
Manuma is the first tribe out!
Cheers erupt from Misini and Vakasa.
Misini exhales as one—Zach claps Trent on the shoulder. Jen nods, satisfied.
Vakasa barely celebrates—just quiet smiles, controlled relief.
JEFF
Misini. Vakasa. Immunity is yours.
He turns.
JEFF (CONT’D)
Manuma… I’ll see you at Tribal Council.
Manuma trudges away in silence.
Andros lingers a half-second longer, eyes burning back at the course.
The game has drawn first blood.
And it remembers who bleeds first.
MANUMA – POST-CHALLENGE (NIGHT 1)
The torches crackle back at camp, throwing warped shadows across the shelter walls.
No one sits comfortably.
Jason stands, arms crossed, staring out at the dark jungle like it might answer him.
JASON
We need strength. Someone who cost us the challenge.
No one says a name.
They don’t have to.
Eyes drift—first to the remaining Psychos, then, subtly but unmistakably, to Carlos.
Carlos straightens immediately.
CARLOS
Oh, come on. Seriously? I drop early and suddenly I’m the problem?
Billy kneels by the fire, drawing lines in the sand with a stick.
BILLY
From a purely probabilistic standpoint, early drops correlate strongly with—
CARLOS
—with being human, Billy. You dropped too. So did Jason. So did half this tribe.
Jason bristles.
JASON
That’s not what this is about.
CARLOS
Then say what it is about.
A tense beat.
Carter Grayson clears his throat.
CARTER
We can’t ignore the Psychos. They’re unpredictable.
Psycho Red lifts his head slowly.
PSYCHO RED (low, dangerous)
We are inevitable.
A shiver runs through the group.
Kimberly shifts closer to Carlos without realizing it.
CARLOS
That’s exactly my point. You want strength? Fine. But keeping them over someone who actually talks to you?
He gestures around the fire.
CARLOS (CONT’D)
That’s not strength. That’s fear.
Wes Collins watches Carlos carefully.
WES (confessional)
Carlos isn’t wrong. He’s just saying it out loud. And that makes him dangerous.
Jason steps closer, lowering his voice.
JASON
You cost us momentum.
CARLOS
No—I cost us nothing. We lost because we weren’t united. Because nobody wanted to tell the Psychos “no.”
Psycho Blue snarls softly.
PSYCHO BLUE
You speak too much.
CARLOS
Yeah? Funny—because silence is exactly how they win.
Billy looks up from the sand.
BILLY
Emotionally charged decisions often lead to long-term inefficiency.
CARLOS
So does keeping four literal murder machines because you’re scared they’ll come after you.
That lands.
Andros finally speaks, voice cold.
ANDROS
You think I’m scared of them?
CARLOS
No. I think you’re so focused on beating them later that you’re willing to sacrifice someone now.
Andros doesn’t answer.
Carlos turns to Kimberly.
CARLOS
Kim. You know I’m not lying.
Kimberly hesitates.
KIMBERLY (confessional)
Carlos is making sense. Which means if he stays… he might run this tribe.
Jason exhales sharply.
JASON
We don’t have all night.
CARLOS
Fine. Then let’s be honest. If you vote me out, you’re not voting strength. You’re voting comfort.
A long silence.
The Psychos huddle together, whispering in their harsh, alien tongue. Their eyes never leave Carlos.
Billy resumes writing names in the sand.
One of them is Carlos.
TRIBAL COUNCIL – NIGHT 2
Torches flicker against ancient stone. The air is thick with salt and unease.
Jeff Probst stands, hands clasped.
JEFF
Manuma. First Tribal Council of the season. One hundred sixty-two players started this game. Tonight… one of you becomes the first to go.
He turns to Jason.
JEFF
Jason—what went wrong today?
JASON
We didn’t work as one. Too many voices pulling in different directions.
Jeff pivots.
JEFF
Carlos. You were one of the first out in the challenge. Does that put a target on you?
Carlos doesn’t hesitate.
CARLOS
It shouldn’t. This challenge punished nerves, not effort. If we’re voting people out for being human, we’re in trouble.
A few nods.
JEFF
Billy. You’re a numbers guy. What matters most on Day 2?
BILLY
Long-term tribe stability. Removing volatility increases—
CARLOS
—or creates it.
Jeff raises an eyebrow.
JEFF
Meaning?
CARLOS
If you vote out someone willing to speak up, all you’re left with are people too scared to rock the boat. That’s how alliances rot.
Psycho Red leans forward.
PSYCHO RED
Weakness invites extinction.
Andros snaps.
ANDROS
You don’t get to talk about extinction.
Jeff holds up a hand.
JEFF
Andros—what’s your concern tonight?
ANDROS
Some people aren’t here to play Survivor. They’re here to dominate it.
His eyes never leave Psycho Red.
Jeff nods slowly.
JEFF
So is this about strength… or control?
No one answers.
Jeff stands.
JEFF
Alright. It’s time to vote.
VOTING MONTAGE
Billy writes Carlos, pauses, then adds a small dot beside the name.
Kimberly hesitates—writes Carlos, then closes her eyes.
Psycho Yellow grins as they scratch a name.
Andros stares at his parchment for a long moment… then writes.
Carlos writes Psycho Yellow with firm strokes.
THE REVEAL
Jeff returns with the urn.
JEFF
Once the votes are read, the decision is final.
He opens the first parchment.
JEFF
First vote…
Carlos.
Carlos exhales.
JEFF
Second vote…
Carlos.
Carlos nods once, jaw tightening.
JEFF
Third vote…
Psycho Yellow.
A ripple of surprise.
Psycho Yellow hisses.
JEFF
Fourth vote…
Carlos.
Jeff doesn’t bother opening the rest.
JEFF
That’s enough.
Carlos swallows—but keeps his head high.
JEFF
Carlos… bring me your torch.
Carlos stands. The tribe won’t meet his eyes—except Kimberly, who looks genuinely torn.
CARLOS
Guess green wasn’t lucky this time.
He hands Jeff the torch.
FWOOSH.
The flame dies.
JEFF
Carlos… the tribe has spoken.
Carlos takes one last look at the Psychos—then at Jason.
CARLOS
You better hope you’re right.
He turns and disappears into the darkness.
Jeff faces the remaining tribe.
JEFF
One hundred sixty-two players began this game. One is gone.
He glances toward the Psychos, their eyes glowing in the firelight.
JEFF (CONT’D)
And if tonight taught us anything…
A beat.
JEFF
It’s that fear makes choices for you.
He smirks.
JEFF
Grab your torches. Head back to camp. Good night.
The camera lingers on Psycho Red’s smile.
Then cuts to black.