A gnarled piece of driftwood, bleached silver by sun and salt, with names carved deep into its surface and sealed with black pitch. One end remains blackened from the original pyre, still carrying the scent of smoke. The wood is impossibly heavy for its size, yet floats on water - much like those it represents, who struggled against the current of elimination yet ultimately sank. It remains perpetually damp regardless of environment, as if still saturated with river water.

The Driftwood Testament appears as a marker at the boundary between each league, visible to all competitors who pass. Those who see it are reminded that the frontier keeps detailed records of its failures, and that every misstep, every missed event, every round of poor performance adds their name to its surface. It serves as the physical embodiment of the series' warning: stake your claim or the trail swallows you whole.