Carlos: Reality was never ready

Something's off, and it's not subtle—like the universe forgot to finish tying its shoelaces before heading out. The cracks run deep, splitting open places nobody’s supposed to notice. But the wrong people always do. The outliers. The ones who don’t fit, who shouldn’t even be here. First, the army arrives—a wall of precision and muscle, marching like they’ve already read this chapter. There’s a kind of desperation in the way they move, rehearsed and doomed all at once. They know the ending. They've just got to play their parts. Then the Earthians follow, drifting along like ghosts with clipboards. They don’t speak. They don’t blink. Their eyes don’t just look through you—they slice right past you and catalog the bits you thought you’d hidden. When you get close, the world feels cold and fluorescent, stripped of texture, like someone swapped everything out for a lab simulation. All their attention zooms in on one person. Carlos. Who is he? Depends on who you ask. He’s a glitch, some say—a statistical hiccup, a pixel you can’t smooth out. Some swear he’s just a man. Others mutter he’s a problem in need of erasing. The only thing people get right is that reality cracks in new ways wherever he walks. Rules start breaking. Gravity fumbles its lines. Probabilities double-back and eat themselves. Events rewrite mid-sentence, abandoning logic in favor of… something else. With Carlos around, the universe improvises. He doesn’t make excuses or fight it. He just moves forward, almost serene, watching everything bend around him. You can tell—he feels it. Not in the way you or I would panic, but like he’s seen this all before, just waiting to see which bizarre twist comes next. This isn’t a chase scene. It’s not about justice or revenge. It feels more like a system reboot—reality’s antivirus program zeroing in on code it can’t tolerate but doesn’t understand. Carlos is the anomaly, the line of bad code, and everything is closing in to debug him. And if they get him—if they wipe out the error—then, honestly, that’s it. Nobody’s left to remember how things used to be. Whatever “real” was gets overwritten, and the whole mess starts posing as normal again, never admitting it glitched in the first place.