Evan’s eyes flickered open, and for a moment, everything was soft and blurry. The morning light poured in through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. He breathed in deeply, feeling the coolness of the air brush against his skin. For a few seconds, there was nothing but stillness. No sounds, no rush, no urgency. Just the quiet hum of life beyond the window.


    The room around him felt perfectly familiar—comforting, even. He took it all in with a sense of peace. The bed was large and inviting, the sheets smooth and neatly tucked. The walls were painted a muted beige, with only the smallest touches of decor. A single vase of fresh flowers sat on the nightstand. There was something pleasant about the simplicity of it all, though Evan couldn’t place why it felt so… organized.


    He sat up slowly, his head a bit heavy, as if the weight of sleep was still lingering. He stretched his arms over his head and swung his legs off the bed, his bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor. The room smelled faintly of fresh linen, a scent that made him feel calm, almost too calm. But nothing was out of the ordinary, he reassured himself. It was just a typical morning.


    The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but he didn’t pay much attention to the time. He had no reason to rush. He stood and walked over to the wardrobe, opening the door. Inside, there were clothes neatly arranged—shirts, pants, jackets, all in perfect order, all of them the right size. He grabbed a simple blue shirt and some jeans, pulling them on without thinking too much about it.


    As he glanced at the mirror across the room, his reflection stared back at him—brown hair, light skin, eyes that seemed slightly too distant, but it wasn’t alarming. It was just his reflection. His face was calm, a little tired maybe, but he looked normal. There was nothing strange or unsettling about the person in the mirror. In fact, he looked like he should be here—wherever here was.


    He stepped into the hallway, the floorboards creaking softly beneath his weight. It was quiet. Too quiet. But it didn’t seem wrong. There was just no sound other than the rhythm of his own movements. He made his way down a short set of stairs to the front door. When he opened it, he stepped out into the street.


    The morning air was crisp, cool against his skin. The street outside was immaculate—clean, well-kept, the buildings on either side perfectly symmetrical, like a model town in a brochure. The sidewalk was clear, no litter, no signs of wear. It felt… new. But in a way that was welcoming, not unnerving.


    Evan took a few steps forward, looking around. There was no one in sight, but that didn’t strike him as strange. Maybe everyone was just inside, starting their day. He wandered further, feeling a pull to keep moving, even though there was no clear reason for it.


    He passed by a small café, its door propped open by the light breeze. The sign read “Fresh Pastries,” the lettering drawn in delicate chalk. He felt a strange compulsion to enter. It wasn’t the kind of place he’d normally stop, but something about the atmosphere felt inviting. He walked inside, and the soft chime of the doorbell echoed in the air.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The café was small but cozy. The scent of coffee and pastries hung in the air, comforting and warm. The barista behind the counter looked up with a smile as Evan approached. Her expression was polite, practiced, but there was no sense of hurry, no rush to take his order. Everything felt… perfect.


    “Good morning,” she said in a soft voice, too sweet, almost rehearsed. “What can I get for you today?”


    Evan smiled back, the simplicity of the interaction putting him at ease. “A coffee, black.”


    The barista nodded, quickly preparing the coffee. The speed with which she worked was efficient, almost mechanical. But again, it didn’t strike him as odd. It just felt... natural. As though this was how the world worked, like this is how it always had been.


    His coffee was ready before he could even realize how much time had passed. The barista handed it to him with another smile, and he thanked her before walking over to a small table near the window. He sipped the warm coffee, enjoying the smooth taste, the richness of it. The world outside the window seemed frozen in time, but not in a way that felt ominous. Just... calm. The street remained empty, but that didn’t seem out of place either. Maybe it was too early. Maybe everyone else was still inside, still asleep.


    He took another sip of his coffee, feeling a quiet peace settling in his chest. He could stay here, in this quiet, perfect world, and nothing would need to change.


    But then, just as he was about to take another sip, something unexpected happened.


    The door to the café opened again.It wasn’t supposed to happen. Evan just knew.


    A man stepped inside, his movements slow but deliberate. He wore a long, tailored coat and a soft smile, his posture confident and calm. Evan didn’t recognize him, but there was something about the way the man looked at him—almost like he’d been expecting him.


    He paused for a moment, eyes locked on Evan’s. A strange, brief flash of something flickered in the man’s eyes, something Evan couldn’t quite interpret. But the moment passed quickly, and the man approached the counter, ordering something in a quiet voice.


    Evan watched him closely, the man’s every movement smooth, deliberate. But as he stood there, waiting for his order, Evan felt a growing discomfort—a small, almost imperceptible shift in the air. It wasn’t enough to alarm him, but there was something about the man that didn’t sit right.


    The man paid, his smile never faltering, and as he turned to leave, he caught Evan’s gaze once more. This time, the smile was different—a little too knowing, a little too aware.


    The moment their eyes met, Evan felt something stir in him, a strange pull. As if something deep inside him had been triggered, though he couldn’t explain what. It was as though he had just been nudged out of a dream—gently, but forcefully enough to make him pause.


    The man stepped toward the door, but just as he was about to leave, he turned slightly and said, almost too casually, “You’ll be fine. Just give it time.”


    Evan blinked, confused. His mind raced, but before he could respond, the man was already gone, stepping out into the street with a slow, measured pace.


    The world outside the café seemed to hold its breath for a moment before resuming its stillness. But something inside Evan had shifted, a whisper of uncertainty where there was once only calm.


    He didn’t understand what had just happened. The man’s words—what had he meant? And why did Evan feel, for the first time, that he wasn’t the one in control?


    The unease in his chest grew, the quiet of the street suddenly feeling too heavy. He stood up, looking out the window again, but this time it didn’t feel quite so peaceful. Something had changed. Something was different.