Chapter 3: Something Is Wrong
The sound of the waterfall filled the air endlessly.
It was loud, overwhelming—yet calming at the same time.
Loki sat near the edge, unmoving, his eyes fixed on the rushing water below. The mist brushed lightly against his face, cool and refreshing, but he barely noticed it.
His thoughts were somewhere else.
Far away.
Slowly, almost unconsciously, he leaned forward.
His gaze dropped.
Down… into the water.
At first, all he saw was distortion. The current was too strong, the surface too unstable. His reflection broke apart again and again, never fully forming.
Then—
For just a moment—
It stabilized.
And he saw himself.
A young man. Around twenty.
Dark hair, slightly messy, falling naturally over his forehead. Not styled, not cared for—just there.
His eyes… dark.
Empty, almost.
Not lifeless.
But… distant.
Like someone who was there physically, but not completely present.
A faint trace of a beard lined his jaw, uneven, like he didn't care enough to shave properly but also didn't care enough to grow it out.
His face wasn't ugly.
But it wasn't memorable either.
Just… average.
Someone you'd pass on the street and forget seconds later.
Loki stared at his reflection longer.
"…That's me."
The words came out quietly, almost lost in the roar of the waterfall.
No emotion.
No pride.
No hate.
Just… acceptance.
And yet—
Something about it felt wrong.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
For a split second—
He thought the reflection moved differently.
Not with him.
Not exactly.
His breath caught.
He blinked.
And it was gone.
The water distorted again, breaking the image apart into nothing.
"…Yeah."
He leaned back slowly.
"Just tired."
That had to be it.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Still—
That feeling lingered.
---
Time passed without him noticing.
The sky slowly shifted, colors fading into darker shades. The sun dipped lower, disappearing behind the horizon.
Evening.
The air grew colder.
Loki finally stood up, stretching his arms slightly as his body protested from sitting too long in one position.
"…Guess I should head back."
His voice sounded small compared to the overwhelming sound of nature around him.
For a moment, he looked at the waterfall one last time.
Then turned away.
---
The walk back felt longer.
Quieter.
The park, once peaceful, now felt… different.
Darker.
Shadows stretched unnaturally between the trees, and the faint sounds of movement echoed from places he couldn't quite see.
He kept walking.
Step after step.
Then—
He stopped.
Just for a second.
That feeling again.
Stronger this time.
Right behind him.
Watching.
Waiting.
Slowly—
He turned his head.
Nothing.
Just trees.
Wind.
Silence.
"…This is getting stupid."
He exhaled and continued walking, slightly faster now.
---
The drive home was quiet.
Too quiet.
Loki gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than usual, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror more often than he'd like to admit.
Once.
Twice.
Nothing.
Just the empty road behind him.
"…I need to stop."
He shook his head slightly, forcing himself to focus.
But then—
There it was again.
Just for a second.
A figure.
Sitting in the back seat.
His heart skipped.
His eyes snapped to the mirror.
Empty.
Nothing there.
"…What the hell…"
His voice was barely above a whisper.
His breathing grew heavier.
"No… no, I'm just imagining things."
He laughed.
A dry, forced sound.
"Yeah. That's it."
But deep down—
He didn't believe it.
---
By the time he got home, it was already dark.
The streetlights flickered softly, casting long shadows across the quiet neighborhood.
Everything looked normal.
Everything felt… wrong.
He stepped out of the car slowly, his gaze instinctively scanning the area.
Nothing unusual.
No movement.
No people.
Just silence.
"…I'm losing it."
He walked to the door and unlocked it, stepping inside.
The familiar darkness greeted him.
For a moment—
He just stood there.
Listening.
Nothing.
No sounds.
No movement.
Just the quiet hum of electricity somewhere in the background.
He turned on the light.
Everything looked exactly as he left it.
Perfectly normal.
And yet—
He couldn't shake the feeling.
---
That night, sleep didn't come easily.
Loki lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts refusing to settle.
Every small noise felt amplified.
Every shadow felt alive.
At some point, he closed his eyes.
And drifted into sleep.
---
Dreams came quickly.
Too quickly.
He stood in darkness.
Endless.
Empty.
Then—
Light.
Spheres.
Countless spheres, floating in the void.
Worlds.
Realities.
He felt it.
The same presence.
Watching.
Closer than ever.
"…You…"
The word echoed.
But it wasn't his voice.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't anything he could understand.
"…What are you…"
Loki tried to move.
Tried to speak.
But his body didn't respond.
The spheres began to distort.
Crack.
Break.
And then—
Everything collapsed.
---
He woke up suddenly.
Gasping.
Sweat covered his body.
"…What the hell was that…"
His heart pounded in his chest.
Too fast.
Too loud.
He sat up, running a hand through his hair.
"It's just a dream…"
But it didn't feel like one.
Not really.
---
Morning came again.
Too fast.
Too normal.
Loki got ready in silence, his movements automatic.
Eat.
Dress.
Leave.
Routine.
Same as always.
But now—
Something had changed.
---
The construction site was just as loud and chaotic as ever.
Nothing different.
Nothing unusual.
And yet—
Everything felt… off.
Loki worked like always.
Lift.
Carry.
Move.
Repeat.
But his focus wasn't there.
His mind kept drifting.
And that feeling—
It never left.
Every now and then, he'd stop for just a fraction of a second.
Like he felt something behind him.
Watching.
Waiting.
"…Focus."
He muttered under his breath.
But it didn't help.
---
Later that day—
He was driving again.
Same roads.
Same city.
Same routine.
But now—
He checked the mirror more often.
Once.
Nothing.
Twice.
Nothing.
Three times—
There it was.
Clearer this time.
A figure.
Standing behind him.
Its eyes—
Endless.
Like galaxies.
Like entire universes existed within them.
Loki froze.
His hands tightened around the wheel.
"…No…"
He blinked.
And it was gone.
Again.
---
His breathing grew heavier.
"What is happening to me…"
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't stress.
This wasn't imagination.
"…Right?"
For the first time—
Real fear crept in.
---
That night, as he sat alone in his house—
The silence felt heavier than ever.
He leaned back in his chair, staring into nothing.
"…I don't belong here."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
And once they were said—
They didn't feel wrong.
They felt…
True.
---
Somewhere far beyond his understanding—
Something watched him.
Closely.
Carefully.
Curiously.
Not as a human.
Not as a god.
But as something observing…
An error.
Something that should not exist.
And yet—
Here he was.
Alive.
Breathing.
Existing.
For now.