The first time it happened, nobody noticed.
Except him.
It was a normal evening—nothing special, nothing memorable. The kind of day that disappears the moment it ends. The street outside was crowded, headlights stretching into long lines, people moving with that same tired urgency.
Aren stood near the bus stop, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone.
7:42 PM.
The bus was late.
Again.
He sighed and looked up, watching people cross the road. A man in a blue shirt stepped off the curb, walking straight into traffic like he had done it a thousand times before.
And then—
Something felt… off.
Not wrong. Not dangerous.
Just… delayed.
The sound came first.
A horn blared—but it felt like it came a fraction too late, like someone had pressed play after missing the start of a video.
Aren frowned.
The car was already there. Too close.
Too fast.
This should've been an accident.
But it wasn't.
The man in the blue shirt had already crossed.
Aren blinked.
No.
That wasn't right.
He had just stepped off the curb.
Aren was sure of it.
His eyes shifted back to the road.
The man was now standing safely on the other side, adjusting his sleeve like nothing had happened.
No panic. No reaction.
Nothing.
"…What?"
The word slipped out under his breath.
Nobody responded.
Of course they didn't.
To everyone else, everything was normal.
Aren straightened slightly, scanning the street.
Cars moved.
People talked.
A bike passed by.
Everything looked fine.
But that feeling… it didn't go away.
That tiny delay.
Like reality had skipped a frame.
He checked his phone again.
7:42 PM.
Still.
Aren frowned.
He was sure at least a minute had passed.
He locked the screen, then unlocked it again.
7:43 PM.
"…Okay."
Maybe he just imagined it.
It happens. Brain glitches. Timing feels weird sometimes.
He exhaled and leaned back against the metal pole of the bus stop.
"Don't overthink it," he muttered.
A woman beside him shifted her bag.
For a second—just a second—her reflection in the glass panel behind her didn't match.
It lagged.
A fraction of a second.
Too small for most people to notice.
But Aren saw it.
His body went still.
Slowly, carefully, he turned his head.
The glass panel reflected the street, the people, the dim orange glow of the streetlights.
Everything normal.
Except—
The reflection of the woman blinked.
A moment after she did.
Aren's heartbeat picked up.
No.
That's not possible.
Reflections don't lag.
He stared harder.
The woman adjusted her hair.
This time, the reflection followed perfectly.
Normal.
Completely normal.
"…I'm tired," Aren whispered.
That had to be it.
Lack of sleep. Too much screen time. Brain playing tricks.
Yeah.
That made sense.
It had to.
A low rumble rolled through the street.
The bus.
Finally.
People around him stirred, stepping forward as it approached.
Aren didn't move immediately.
His eyes were still on the glass.
Watching.
Waiting.
Nothing happened.
Just his own reflection staring back at him.
Tired eyes. Slight frown.
Normal.
The bus doors opened with a hiss.
People started getting in.
Aren hesitated for a second longer… then stepped forward.
As he climbed inside, something brushed past him.
Not a person.
Not exactly.
It felt like walking through a cold patch of air.
But heavier.
Denser.
He froze mid-step.
The driver looked at him.
"Are you getting in or not?"
Aren snapped out of it. "Yeah—yeah."
He moved quickly, stepping inside.
The moment he did—
For just a second—
The world went silent.
No engine.
No voices.
No movement.
And in the reflection of the bus window…
Something was standing behind him.
Aren turned instantly.
Nothing.
Just people finding seats, someone arguing over change, the driver already annoyed.
Normal.
Too normal.
He slowly walked to an empty seat and sat down.
His hands felt slightly cold.
"…Okay," he said quietly. "That was real."
Not imagination.
Not tiredness.
Not coincidence.
Something was wrong.
Not big.
Not obvious.
But small, precise, and consistent.
Like cracks.
Tiny cracks…
in something that wasn't supposed to break.
Aren leaned his head against the window.
Outside, the city moved as usual.
Lights.
People.
Noise.
But now he couldn't unsee it.
The delay.
The reflection.
The silence.
And that thing—
For a single second—
standing behind him.
Aren closed his eyes.
But one thought stayed clear.
If this is happening…
then it's going to happen again.
And next time—
He wouldn't look away.
End of Chapter 1