The Total Jumbo Jet banked steeply over the vast, sun-scorched expanse of the Australian Outback. Below, the earth was a vibrant, bruised ochre, a sea of rusted dust and ancient rock formations that stretched to the horizon where the heat shimmered like a liquid curtain. Inside the plane, the atmosphere was electric with tension. The survivors—the final nine—sat in a silence that was far heavier than the cabin pressure.
Chris McLean stood in the doorway of the cockpit, dressed in full "Outback Explorer" gear. He wore a wide-brimmed Akubra hat with a leather band, a rugged canvas vest over a khaki shirt, and a pair of heavy-duty boots. In his hand, he casually flipped a carved wooden boomerang. His smartwatch gave a crisp, steady chime: 110/70. He was operating at peak mental clarity.
"Listen up, campers!" Chris shouted over the roar of the engines. "We've traveled from the frozen tundra of the Yukon to the ancient temples of Greece and the hidden vaults of Area 51. You've been poked, prodded, humiliated, and enlightened. But today, the game changes forever."
He looked at each of them: Heather, Gwen, Sierra, Alejandro, Noah, Cody, Ezekiel, Harold, and Leshawna.
"As of this moment, Team Amazon, Team Myrmidon, and Team Victory are officially HISTORY! Welcome to the MERGE!"
A collective gasp rippled through the group. Alejandro and Noah exchanged a swift, knowing look; Heather leaned back, her eyes narrowing as she mentally recalibrated her entire strategy; and Cody let out a small sigh of relief, thinking the pressure might lessen.
"But don't get too comfortable," Chris added, his smile widening into something predatory. "To celebrate the merge, we're having an Automatic Elimination. No voting. No confessionals. No lawyers. The person who finishes last in today's challenge is off the plane before the sun sets over the scrubland."
The Emu Run and the Shear Terror
The challenge was divided into two grueling segments. First, the contestants had to mount and ride wild emus—notoriously stubborn, flightless birds—across a five-mile stretch of rocky terrain to the edge of a massive sandstone cliff. Second, they had to bungee jump off that cliff, catch a roaming sheep in mid-air, and shear it using traditional hand-clippers to find a small, metallic team emblem hidden deep within the wool.
As they touched down in the red dust of the Northern Territory, the heat hit them like a physical blow. The emus were already waiting in a corral, hissing and pecking at the air.
"Musical break!" Chris yelled, gesturing to a group of interns holding didgeridoos and banjos. "I want to hear the sound of the Outback!"
The beat was fast, a frantic mix of country-rock and tribal percussion.
Song: "Shear the Sheep"
Heather: (Struggling to hold onto her emu's neck)
"The lines are gone, the colors fade,
This is the bed that we have made!
I'm riding high, I'm riding fast,
I'll make sure I am not the last!"
Gwen: (Kicking up dust as her bird bolts forward)
"The C.I.T. is a memory now,
I'm making it through, I don't care how!
One by one we fall away,
But I'm the one who's gonna stay!"
Alejandro & Noah: (Riding side-by-side in perfect synchronization)
"A new alliance, a brand new day,
We're sweeping all the masks away!
Keep your rhythm, keep your head,
Or find yourself among the dead!"
Ezekiel: (Whooping like a true farmhand)
"I've sheared the sheep back on the farm,
I'll do it here with grit and charm!
The Yukon King is in his prime,
I'm taking the lead one bird at a time!"
Chorus (All):
"Shear the sheep! The clock is ticking!
Watch the bird, it might be kicking!
The merge is here, the game is real,
Who's got the nerves of polished steel?"
The Race to the Edge
The emu ride was pure chaos. Leshawna and Harold were natural athletes, but the birds were unpredictable. Harold tried to use "ancient ninja animal-whispering techniques," but his emu simply bit his hat and ran in circles.
Noah and Alejandro, however, were a revelation. They moved as a unit. When Alejandro's bird tripped, Noah slowed down to give him a hand-up. When Noah's bird became stubborn, Alejandro used a low, melodic whistle to calm the animal. It was an honest, functional partnership that left Heather watching from behind with a mixture of suspicion and grudging respect.
"They're actually working together," Gwen whispered to Heather as they galloped through the scrub.
"It's disgusting," Heather replied, though she didn't sound as angry as usual. "But effective. We need to focus on Cody. He's lagging."
She was right. Cody was having a nightmare. His emu seemed to have a personal vendetta against him. Every time Cody tried to steer it toward the cliff, the bird would stop, look at him with a judgmental stare, and then walk in the opposite direction.
"Come on, little guy! Please!" Cody begged, his face flushed red from the heat. "I'm a nice person! I survived Sierra! This should be easy!"
But the bird wasn't listening. By the time Cody reached the cliffside, the others were already harnessed up and preparing to jump.
The Bungee Leap of Faith
At the edge of the sandstone cliff, the wind whipped through the contestants' hair. Below them, a flock of sheep milled about in a dusty pen at the base of the gorge.
Sierra was the first to jump. Her medicated focus was terrifyingly efficient. She plummeted into the abyss, her eyes calculating the trajectory like a ballistic computer. She snatched a sheep mid-air, landed with a soft thud in the sand, and began shearing with the speed of a professional. Within seconds, she held up a small, silver emblem.
"Safe!" Chris yelled from his megaphone.
Next went Ezekiel and Leshawna. Ezekiel's farm upbringing served him well; he handled the sheep with a tenderness that allowed him to find the emblem without the animal even flinching. Harold followed shortly after, using his "nunchuck shearing skills" to clear the wool in a flurry of movement.
Then came the battle of the minds. Heather, Gwen, Alejandro, and Noah all jumped almost simultaneously. It was a blur of falling bodies and bleating sheep. Alejandro and Noah landed side-by-side.
"I have the left flank!" Noah shouted, grabbing a particularly fluffy ewe.
"I have the right!" Alejandro responded.
They worked with a silent, intense coordination. They found their emblems and held them up together.
"Safe!" Chris announced.
Heather and Gwen were right behind them. Heather's fingers were nimble, her focus unbroken. She found her emblem and took a deep breath of relief.
But at the top of the cliff, Cody was finally arriving. He was exhausted, dusty, and his bird had pecked a hole in his shirt. He looked down the cliff and swallowed hard.
"You're the last one up there, Cody-wody!" Chris called out. "If you don't find that emblem before the timer runs out, you're toast!"
Cody's Final Struggle
Cody didn't hesitate. He knew the stakes. He strapped into the bungee cord and threw himself off the ledge. The wind roared in his ears as the ground rushed up to meet him. He managed to snag a sheep—a large, grumpy-looking ram—but as the bungee cord snapped back, Cody's legs got tangled in the line.
He was left hanging upside down, five feet above the ground, clutching a thrashing, confused ram.
"I've got it! I've got it!" Cody yelled, reaching for his shears.
But as he swung his arm, the heavy metal clippers slipped from his sweaty palm. They fell into the deep, soft sand below, disappearing completely.
"No!" Cody screamed, his voice cracking.
He tried to pluck the wool by hand, his fingers frantic. He could see the others watching from the sidelines. Sierra was standing perfectly still, her face unreadable. Noah looked concerned. Alejandro simply watched with a stoic silence.
"Ten seconds!" Chris shouted.
Cody dug his fingers into the ram's thick coat, searching for the cold touch of metal. He felt something—a sharp edge. But the ram gave a powerful kick, spinning Cody around. He lost his grip. The sheep landed on its feet and trotted away, still carrying the emblem in its fleece.
The buzzer rang. A long, mournful sound that echoed through the gorge.
Cody stopped spinning. He just hung there, upside down, looking at the desert floor. The silence that followed was heavy with the realization that the "kid" of the group was gone.
The Dignified Departure
The sun was a giant, burning ember on the horizon as the remaining eight contestants stood by the stairs of the Total Jumbo Jet. Cody stood in front of them, covered in wool and red dust. He looked small, but he didn't look defeated.
"Well, Cody," Chris said, stepping forward. He wasn't smiling his usual malicious grin. There was a faint trace of respect in his eyes. "You survived a lot of things. You survived being hunted in the woods, you survived the Yukon, and you survived... well, Sierra. But the Outback got the better of you. It's time to go."
Cody nodded. He turned to the group.
"Gwen," he said, his voice steady. "Keep going. You're tougher than you think. Heather... I don't know what happened to you in Greece, but keep that person alive. She's better than the old one."
He looked at Noah and Alejandro. "I don't know what you two are building, but don't let this game destroy it. It's the only real thing left on this plane."
Finally, he turned to Sierra. The girl who had stalked him, annoyed him, and ultimately protected him. Sierra stepped forward and handed him a small, ruggedized memory card.
"It's a backup of all your best moments, Cody," Sierra said quietly. Her voice was calm, the medication keeping her grounded. "So you can see yourself the way the fans see you. You weren't just a sidekick. You were a player."
Cody took the card, a look of genuine surprise on his face. "Thanks, Sierra. And... thanks for giving me space to breathe these last few days. It meant a lot."
Cody didn't need the Drop of Shame. He walked up the stairs of the plane, turned at the doorway, and gave a final, two-fingered salute to the group.
"See you at the finale!" he shouted.
The door hissed shut.
As the jet climbed into the starlit sky, leaving the Australian desert behind, the mood in the common area was somber. The teams were gone. The "little brother" was gone. Only the heavy hitters remained.
Noah sat by the window, watching the clouds.
Alejandro sat across from him.
"He was a good kid," Alejandro said softly.
"He was," Noah agreed. "But now the game is for the adults. And I have a feeling Easter Island isn't going to be a vacation."
Across the aisle, Heather watched them. She knew that the alliance between the two smartest men on the plane was a threat, but she also knew that she wasn't the same person who had started this tour. The merge had begun, and the real war for the million dollars was just starting.
Cody has departed with his head held high, and the final eight (Heather, Gwen, Sierra, Alejandro, Noah, Ezekiel, Harold, and Leshawna) are ready for the endgame.