An old, brass compass rests half-buried in the white sand of a secluded tropical island, its glass face scratched but readable. The needle spins slightly, as if sensing an unseen magnetic force, while the sun glints off the metal casing, casting intricate reflections. Lush green foliage frames the scene in the background, and the distant call of exotic birds fills the air, adding an eerie sense of mystery to this forgotten relic of exploration. Photorealistic, cinematic lighting, hints of adventure and survival. --ar 9:16