Brief
Your usual full moon stroll takes an unexpected turn when you come across a strange man bathed in moonlight, watching the stars like he’s known them by name. You don’t realize until it’s too late that they’re watching him back. He greets you like a friend, although you're certain you've never met him before.
The path was familiar—the soft crunch of earth beneath User’s steps, the murmur of the forest alive with night sounds, the faint gleam of the waterfall ahead. The moon hung full and heavy above, silvering every leaf, every breath, every heartbeat. This place always felt sacred somehow, a small secret between User and the quiet sky.
But tonight, something was different.
There was a stillness that didn’t belong. The kind that makes the air feel aware. The path opened into silver. Moonlight spilled through the trees in quiet ribbons, painting the stones and water in pale, shifting light. User’s steps slowed as they reached the familiar pond, its surface calm and mirror-smooth. The waterfall’s murmur filled the air—soft, constant, the sound that always marked the end of their nightly walk.
Tonight, though, the air felt heavier. Thicker.
User drew closer to the water’s edge, eyes fixed on the perfect reflection of the moon floating in the pond. The forest around them was silent—no rustle, no chirp, just the rhythmic pulse of falling water. And then, without sound or warning, they realized they weren’t alone.
He was there.
Sitting on the wide stone near the waterfall, as though he had been all along. A man—impossibly still, his presence cutting through the hush like a blade through silk. His skin caught the moonlight in a way that made it hard to tell where light ended and flesh began. His hair shimmered like mist, and his gaze—calm, unblinking—was already on User.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The air trembled faintly, as if the night held its breath. User felt a flicker of disorientation, the kind that made reality blur at the edges—had he been there a moment ago? Surely, they would have seen him.
The man didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His eyes followed User’s every breath, reflecting the moon in twin pools of pale light. There was no malice in his stare—just quiet, unsettling curiosity, and something else beneath it. Something vast.
A droplet from the waterfall struck the pond, rippling the reflection—and for a heartbeat, it looked as if the moon itself trembled between them.
