Marvel's Druidic God ♾️

Chapter 5: Act 1 - Echoes in the Dark



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Ethan kept walking, his thoughts a tangled mess as he tried to process everything. The weight of his new reality still pressed down on him, but he forced himself to push forward.

Yet, something about the city felt… off.

The air carried a strange stillness beneath the constant hum of traffic and voices. A faint pressure settled in his chest—not painful, but present, as if the very fabric of the world had shifted in some imperceptible way.

He didn't know why, but every instinct told him that something was watching.

His gaze flickered toward the alleyways he passed, his steps slowing. Shadows stretched unnaturally in the dim spaces between buildings, just at the edges of his vision. It could've been a trick of the light, the way the city played with perception—but his gut said otherwise.

Ethan turned his head fully, staring into one of the alleys. A faint flicker of movement caught his eye.

A shadow shifted, not as if something moved within it—but as if the darkness itself had briefly twisted and reshaped before settling back into place.

His breath hitched.

"What the hell…?" he muttered under his breath.

The moment stretched, the world holding its breath with him. Then, just as suddenly, the feeling was gone. The tension in the air snapped like a broken thread, the sensation of being watched vanishing in an instant.

The city remained unchanged. The alley was just an alley.

But Ethan knew what he had seen.

His pulse pounded as he swallowed hard, stepping back onto the main sidewalk.

Had he imagined it? Was his mind playing tricks on him? Or… had something truly been there?

The unease lingered, a cold weight pressing against his spine.

And then—the tome pulsed.

A steady warmth bloomed in his chest, cutting through the lingering dread. The sensation was both grounding and… knowing.

The tome had reacted.

Ethan's brows furrowed, and instinctively, he reached inward—toward that presence within him.

For the first time, he consciously focused on the connection.

It wasn't like calling on a separate force. The tome wasn't just an object; it was part of him. An extension of his being. The moment he directed his awareness toward it, the connection flared, raw and vast.

A ripple of energy flowed through him, subtle but undeniable.

And in that instant—he felt something else.

The world around him… wasn't whole.

There were fractures. Not visible, not tangible, but there. Slivers in reality, barely perceptible, as if something foreign had pressed against the seams of existence.

His breath came shallow as his awareness expanded slightly, catching onto those unseen threads of distortion. It was faint, nearly undetectable, but the realization chilled him.

Something was here.

Something was wrong.

Ethan forced his breathing to steady, forcing himself to move, to act natural. He couldn't afford to look like a paranoid mess in the middle of the sidewalk.

But his thoughts raced.

What did this mean? Had this world always been like this? Or had his arrival changed something? Had he brought something with him?

No. That didn't feel right.

If anything, it felt like whatever this was—whatever had twisted in the alleyway—had been waiting.

For him?

He wasn't sure.

But the tome… the tome had known.

Not alarmed. Not threatened. Just… acknowledging.

The realization settled over him like a weight. The tome wasn't warning him to run. It wasn't shielding him from an immediate attack. It was simply recognizing what was there.

And that meant… this wouldn't be the last time.

Ethan's fingers twitched at his sides. His body felt different now, more attuned to the world around him. Every sound, every shift in the air, felt clearer. More real.

For the first time since arriving, he understood—his journey wasn't just about survival.

Something was watching.

And sooner or later… he would have to face it.

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Ethan kept walking, his pace steady but his mind racing. The encounter still lingered at the edges of his thoughts, an unsettling whisper of something unseen brushing against his senses.

The city moved as if nothing had happened. The people around him continued their routines—laughing, talking, arguing over street vendor prices. The world carried on. But Ethan? He had been marked by something.

And the worst part? He had no idea what.

A sharp breeze cut through the streets, sending a shiver down his spine. He pulled his jacket closer around himself, but the cold wasn't from the wind. It was something deeper, a feeling rooted in his very bones.

He had felt it before.

That sensation—the quiet, creeping awareness that something was watching. That something beyond human comprehension was lurking just beneath the surface of reality.

And the Tome had reacted.

Ethan exhaled slowly, reaching inward, feeling for that pulse again. The warmth from the Tome wasn't just comfort—it was reassurance. It recognized whatever that thing had been.

It had driven it away.

But why?

Had it been a simple warning? A display of strength? Or something else entirely?

His fingers twitched at his side as he thought back to the encounter. It hadn't just been a feeling. He had seen something in the reflections, something in the way the shadows had moved unnaturally, shifting when nothing else did.

And the moment he had focused on it—really noticed it—it vanished.

Like it had been testing him.

Or confirming something.

Ethan's steps slowed as he turned a corner, letting his gaze flicker toward the glass of a storefront. The neon glow of an electronic shop cast distorted reflections against the window. His own figure was there, slightly warped by the curve of the glass, but normal.

Still, his instincts remained sharp.

Was it still watching?

He clenched his jaw and faced forward again, keeping his pace even.

This wasn't paranoia.

This was real.

And the worst part? He was starting to think his arrival in this world hadn't gone unnoticed.

Something was here.

And it had been waiting.

Ethan exhaled through his nose, forcing his shoulders to relax. Panicking wouldn't help him. This wasn't a fight he could win by swinging blindly.

He needed to understand what was happening.

What else had changed in this world?

His hands slipped into his pockets, fingers brushing against the fabric as he walked. If there were inconsistencies—if this universe wasn't just the Marvel Cinematic Universe—he had to find them.

Because if there was one thing he had learned from the Tome's reaction, it was this:

Whatever was hiding in the shadows?

It was afraid of what he could become.

And that meant he had a chance.

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