"See… and remember…"
The words echoed—not through the air, but through Damien's spine. Like an aftershock of meaning that hadn't landed yet.
He turned toward the waterfall again.
See?
See what?
It wasn't water. It wasn't even light—not entirely. The cascade was a bleeding edge between reality and something older. Something deeper. It shimmered, yes—but not in color alone. It shimmered with impression. With meaning. With some language that his eyes couldn't speak, but his instincts understood just enough to ache from it.
"What the fuck does that even mean…?" Damien muttered.
But the thing didn't respond.
It had moved now—sat itself cross-legged in midair like a child at a campfire, floating in front of the waterfall, eyes closed. Hands on its knees. Grinning still, but not moving. As if it had played its part.
And now?
Now Damien was alone again.
No answers.
Just that gaze—not from the creature, but from the world itself.
And inside that gaze, his mind began to stir.
