Larius Wilarrow was not good at remembering names.
He knew that about himself.
It wasn't like he forgot everything. He didn't. He just… misplaced names in a way that was annoying.
Like they were almost there, but not really.
Jacob? No. Jenkins? Maybe. Johnson? That one felt too common, like a default name someone uses when they don't know what to write.
He used to get frustrated about it. Now he just accepted it most of the time.
He read books a lot. Mostly novels. He liked stories better than real people because written names stayed still. They didn't change expression or mood.
Real people were harder.
Life itself was… fine. Not good, not bad. Just fine.
That was probably the best way to say it.
The morning it happened didn't feel special at all.
He woke up like normal. Or at least, he thought it was normal.
He checked his phone without thinking. Notifications, messages, some bookmarked web novels. One of them had a cop on the cover. LAPD maybe. He didn't remember the name.
Halfway through scrolling, he forgot why he even picked the phone up.
He just lay there for a bit after that, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.
It didn't.
After a while he got up. Shower. Clothes. Usual routine. Nothing interesting.
He didn't think much that morning. That was normal too.
Thinking too much usually made him tired anyway.
He left the house later, not really remembering what he had been thinking before he stepped out.
It wasn't important.
At least, it didn't feel important.
The world changed without warning.
But not in a dramatic way.
There was no light. No sound. No big moment where everything exploded or anything like that.
It was more like something was just… missing.
One step forward.
And the next step didn't connect properly.
Like the ground wasn't where it was supposed to be for a split second.
His stomach rolled like he'd just missed a stair in the dark.
His body kept moving anyway, because bodies don't stop just because reality gets weird.
Then everything came back.
But wrong.
He almost fell forward but caught himself on something solid.
A bench.
Cold metal under his hand.
He blinked a few times.
He didn't understand what just happened.
For a second he just stood there, holding the bench, not moving.
The air felt different. Not in a magical way. Just… unfamiliar.
Like he had walked into a place he had been before but didn't remember.
He looked around slowly.
People were walking.
Normal pace. Normal direction.
Some of them wore blue uniforms.
Police.
That word came into his head automatically.
But it didn't really connect to anything deeper.
Just a label.
He let go of the bench slowly and looked at his hands.
They were his hands.
That much he was sure of.
But something still felt off.
He couldn't explain it.
He sat down without really deciding to.
It just happened.
Like his body thought it was a good idea before his brain did.
Around him, things kept moving like nothing was wrong.
A police car passed by. He heard bits of radio talk but didn't understand it fully. Just words like "unit" and "respond" and "copy."
He didn't know why, but that made him uncomfortable.
Not scared exactly.
Just uncomfortable.
He tried to think back.
Yesterday.
Last night.
His home.
It was there in his head, but it didn't feel solid.
Like remembering something through fog.
He frowned.
"This is weird," he said quietly.
His own voice sounded normal, which somehow made it worse.
After a while he stood up again.
He didn't really have a reason to sit there anymore.
He started walking.
No direction. Just walking because standing still felt even stranger.
The streets looked normal but also not normal at the same time.
Everything was clean and structured. Like it was designed carefully.
He passed signs he could read, but they didn't really mean anything to him in a deeper way.
Just words on boards.
Nothing more.
He stopped at an intersection and looked both ways.
Cars moved in an orderly way.
Too orderly, maybe.
He crossed anyway.
No one reacted to him.
That should have felt normal.
But it didn't.
It felt like he wasn't part of anything.
At some point he checked his phone again.
Time was there. Date was there.
But it didn't feel right.
Like numbers that belonged somewhere else.
He stared at it longer than he should have.
"Okay," he said out loud. "Okay, maybe I'm just tired or something."
He didn't believe it fully.
But he needed something to say.
A siren passed somewhere far away.
He flinched slightly without meaning to.
That surprised him.
Not the sound.
But his reaction.
He didn't understand why his body reacted before he thought about it.
That bothered him more than it should have.
Later he found himself sitting again.
He didn't really remember deciding to sit.
It just happened again.
This time it was near a quieter street.
Less people.
Less noise.
He tried to remember why he was outside.
He couldn't.
He tried to remember where he was supposed to go.
Nothing came clearly.
It was like his thoughts kept slipping away before he could hold them properly.
He pressed a hand against his forehead.
"Come on," he said quietly. "Just remember something."
But nothing came.
That silence in his head was starting to feel heavy.
Not loud. Just heavy.
The afternoon passed without him noticing properly.
Time felt weird. Not broken, just… loose.
He walked again at some point.
Stopped again at some point.
Bought something to drink without really thinking about it.
He didn't even remember paying properly.
The drink tasted normal though.
That was good enough.
By evening, the light changed.
The sky got darker.
Streetlights turned on one by one.
He stood near a bus stop and just watched things pass.
Cars. People. Light reflections.
Everything felt slightly far away.
Like he was watching life instead of being inside it.
He leaned back a little and sighed.
"Where am I supposed to be?" he asked quietly.
No answer came.
Of course it didn't.
He wasn't even sure who he was asking.
He tried to think of a name. Any name that should matter.
Family. Friends. Someone he needed to call.
Nothing came.
Names, faces, places—they were all there somewhere, but when he reached for them, his mind slid away.
Just like always.
He had never been good with names.
Now it felt like the whole world was just one big name he had forgotten.
He closed his eyes for a short moment.
Just a break.
Just a second.
When he opened them again, it was darker.
Night had arrived without him noticing.
That felt strange too.
He stood up slowly.
Looked around.
Nothing looked familiar.
Still nothing made sense.
But he could still walk.
So he did.
Not because he knew where to go.
Just because standing still felt worse.
He didn't know it yet.
But something had changed.
Not in a visible way.
Not in a way he could notice at all.
Just something small and hidden, like a switch that had been turned off instead of on.
It would take time before anything else happened.
Days maybe.
Right now there was just confusion.
And silence.
And the feeling that the world was slightly out of sync with him.
He walked into the night without knowing anything else.
Somewhere in the same city, a man he couldn't name yet was about to become the oldest rookie in the LAPD.
Larius just kept moving, missing that one important detail.