<Chapter three>

【𝐀𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫】

━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━

" You are very different "



" Something I've never seen before "



" You.. are very beautiful... "



" Wouldn't you agree...? "

" What does that mean.. ? "

━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━

The forest had become your refuge, a place of solitude where you could gather your thoughts and try to make sense of the fragmented memories that swirled in your mind like glitching data. Gravity Falls was different from any place you'd known, its dense canopy of towering trees offering a strange mix of comfort and unease. The foliage was lush and vibrant, unlike anything on Copper-9, where the atmosphere was filled with smog and the landscape was a stark industrial wasteland.

As you wander through the woods, your sensors pick up the subtle sounds of the forest: the rustle of leaves in the wind, the distant call of birds, and the occasional scurrying of small creatures across the forest floor. You trace the lines of tree bark with your metallic fingers, marveling at the texture, the life teeming beneath the surface. It's a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment you were used to—a world devoid of nature.

But there's something else here too, something that makes your processors hum with curiosity. The air in Gravity Falls seems charged with a kind of energy you can't quite identify. It's not just the electromagnetic fields or the organic life—it's something deeper, something almost... supernatural. You've picked up on it since your arrival, but the forest seems to amplify it, like a hidden current that flows beneath everything.

As you move deeper into the forest, the shadows lengthen, and the light filtering through the canopy becomes dimmer. It's peaceful in a way, but that peace also comes with an edge of unpredictability. You can't shake the feeling that you're being watched, that something—or someone—is observing your every move. But every time you glance around, there's nothing there, just the trees and the underbrush.

You continue forward, your steps light and measured, barely making a sound. Even in this unfamiliar environment, you find yourself moving with the same cautious grace that served you well on Copper-9. After all, you'd had to learn how to be quiet, how to move without drawing attention to yourself. It was a survival skill, honed through years of navigating a world where danger lurked around every corner.

But here, it seems your caution was warranted.

Without warning, something crashes into you from the side with the force of a speeding train. You're thrown off balance, your sensors scrambling to make sense of the sudden impact. The world tilts as you're sent flying to the ground, your systems glitching momentarily as you collide with the earth. Before you can even process what's happening, a heavy weight presses down on you, pinning you to the forest floor.

Your optics flicker as your systems attempt to recalibrate, your auditory sensors catching the sound of labored breathing above you. The pressure on your back is immense, forcing you to stay down, and you feel something cold and metallic pressed against the back of your neck—a weapon, no doubt, and a very real one at that.

"Don't move," a deep, authoritative voice commands, cutting through the haze of your confusion. The voice is strong, commanding, and filled with an undercurrent of suspicion. It's clear that whoever this is, they're not about to take any chances.

You try to shift slightly, but the weight on your back increases, pushing you further into the dirt. Your systems are working overtime, running diagnostics and assessing the threat level. Your first instinct is to fight back, to throw off whoever is holding you down, but something stops you. This situation is different from the battles you've fought before—there's no imminent danger, no immediate threat to your survival. But that doesn't mean you're safe.

"I said don't move!" the voice barks again, this time with more force. "I've seen a lot of strange things in this town, but I've never seen anything like you."

There's an edge of something else in the voice now—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe even fear. You can tell that this person is on high alert, ready to react to the slightest hint of aggression from you. Whoever they are, they're not used to encountering something like you.

You manage to turn your head just enough to catch a glimpse of your assailant. The first thing you notice is a flash of silver hair, stark against the green of the forest. Then, the glint of a six-fingered hand gripping what looks like a futuristic weapon, its barrel pointed directly at you. The man holding it is older, with a face lined by years of experience, his features sharp and weathered. His eyes are narrowed, studying you with an intensity that's both unnerving and oddly familiar.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," you say, your voice coming out more strained than you intended. Your processors are running through a thousand scenarios, each one ending with the same conclusion: this man is dangerous, but not in the way you're used to. He's cautious, careful, and clearly skilled. "I'm just... lost."

For a moment, the man says nothing, his gaze still locked on you. Then, slowly, the pressure on your back lessens, and you feel the cold metal of the weapon move away from your neck. The weight shifts, and you realize he's stepped back, giving you space to sit up. Your systems are still on high alert, but you take the opportunity to assess the situation further.

As you push yourself into a sitting position, you take a better look at your surroundings. The forest is dense here, the trees towering above you, their branches interwoven in a thick canopy that blocks out much of the sky. The ground beneath you is soft with fallen leaves and moss, a stark contrast to the cold, hard surfaces you're used to. It's almost disorienting in its natural beauty.

The man in front of you remains tense, his weapon still at the ready, but there's a flicker of something else in his expression—hesitation, perhaps. You get the sense that he's not entirely sure what to make of you, which could either be a good thing or a very bad thing.

"I've seen anomalies before," the man says, his voice quieter now but still firm. "But you... You're something different." His eyes narrow further, and you can tell he's trying to read you, to understand what you are and where you came from. "Talk," he commands. "Explain yourself."

You hesitate, unsure of how much you should reveal. You don't know this man, and while he doesn't seem overtly hostile, he's clearly on edge. But there's something in his gaze, something that tells you he's more than just a random stranger. The way he moves, the way he carries himself—it all points to someone with experience, someone who's been through things most people couldn't even imagine.

"I'm lost," you repeat, choosing your words carefully. "I'm not from here, and I'm not a threat. I just... ended up here." It's a vague explanation, but it's the truth—or at least as much of the truth as you can safely share.

The man doesn't respond immediately, and you can see the gears turning in his mind as he processes your words. His grip on the weapon tightens slightly, but he doesn't raise it again. Instead, he takes a step back, as if giving you space to breathe. But you know better than to let your guard down—this situation is far from resolved.

"Gravity Falls is full of anomalies," the man mutters, more to himself than to you. "But you're something else entirely." His gaze flickers to the symbol on your chest, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind as he tries to piece together what he's seeing.

For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, a tense silence hanging in the air. The forest seems to hold its breath, the usual sounds of nature muted, as if even the animals are wary of what might happen next.

Finally, the man lowers his weapon, though he doesn't put it away. His eyes never leave yours, still watching you with that same intense scrutiny. "I'm Stanford Pines," he says, his tone cautious. "And if you're telling the truth, you'll come with me. I need to figure out what you are and why you're here."

You hesitate, not sure if you can trust him, but there's something in his eyes—a mix of curiosity, determination, and perhaps even a hint of something else, something like... understanding. It's a strange feeling, but it's enough to make you consider his offer.

"Alright," you say finally, standing up and brushing the dirt off your dress. Your systems are still on high alert, but you know that going with him might be your best chance at understanding this place—and maybe even finding a way back to where you came from. "But I don't have all the answers you're looking for."

Ford nods, though you can tell he's still not entirely convinced. "We'll see about that," he says, motioning for you to follow him. "Come on. We're heading back to the shack."

As you follow him through the forest, you can't shake the feeling that this encounter is only the beginning. Gravity Falls holds secrets—secrets that you might be a part of now, whether you like it or not. The forest is thick with shadows, and the path Ford leads you down is winding and overgrown, almost as if it's a path rarely traveled. The trees seem to close in around you, their branches forming a dense canopy that blocks out most of the sky. It's a place that feels ancient, as if it's seen things that no one else has.

You can tell that Ford is on high alert, his movements careful and deliberate as he leads the way. He doesn't speak much, but when he does, his voice is low and filled with a kind of reverence for the forest around him. "This place... It's different," he says at one point, his gaze sweeping over the trees. "It's alive in ways you can't see, in ways you can only feel. Gravity Falls is more than just a town—it's a nexus, a place where the boundaries between realities are thinner, where the impossible becomes possible."

You listen in silence, your sensors picking up the subtle shifts in his tone, the way his voice seems to carry a weight of experience. It's clear that he's seen things—things that have left a mark on him, just as they have on you.

As you walk, you catch glimpses of strange things among the trees—shapes that flicker in and out of view, shadows that move against the light, and the faint sound of whispers carried on the wind. Your systems can't quite make sense of it all, and you find yourself relying more on your instincts than on your programming.

The path eventually leads to a clearing, and you see it—the shack. It's an old, weathered building, its wooden walls worn by time and the elements. It looks like something out of a different era, a place that doesn't quite belong in this world, and yet it's here, standing strong amidst the wilderness.

Ford approaches the shack with a familiarity that speaks of years spent within its walls. He glances back at you, his expression still guarded but less hostile than before. "This is where I live," he says, a hint of something like pride in his voice. "It's not much, but it's home."

You take in the sight of the shack, noting the various contraptions and devices scattered around the exterior. It's clear that this place is more than just a home—it's a lab, a place of research and experimentation. Your curiosity piques, wondering what kind of work Ford has been doing here, what kind of mysteries he's been unraveling.

As you step inside, the interior of the shack reveals even more. The space is cluttered with books, papers, and strange artifacts, each one seemingly more bizarre than the last. There are jars filled with odd specimens, devices that hum with energy, and walls lined with chalkboards covered in complex equations and diagrams. It's a place where science and the supernatural intersect, where the boundaries of reality are pushed to their limits.

Ford moves through the space with ease, his hands brushing over the various objects as if they're old friends. He turns to you, his gaze sharp once again. "You've seen things, haven't you?" he asks, his tone more curious than accusatory. "Things that defy explanation, things that don't fit into the neat categories of science or logic."

You nod slowly, your thoughts drifting back to Copper-9, to the horrors you witnessed there, the things that no one could explain. "Yes," you reply, your voice soft. "I've seen things that... shouldn't exist. Things that... changed me."

Ford studies you for a long moment, and you can see the gears turning in his mind, the way he's trying to piece together your story. "Gravity Falls has a way of attracting the impossible," he says finally, his voice thoughtful. "And you... you're part of that now, whether you intended to be or not."

You don't know how to respond to that, so you simply remain silent, your gaze drifting around the room. There's a strange comfort in the chaos of the shack, in the way it seems to defy order and reason. It's a place where anything could happen, where the rules of reality are bent and twisted.

Ford moves to a large desk, covered in papers and strange devices. He picks up a small, cylindrical object and turns it over in his hands, his expression contemplative. "This town... it has secrets," he says, almost to himself. "Secrets that I've spent years trying to uncover. And now... now you're part of that mystery."

You can feel the weight of his words, the way they seem to hang in the air between you. There's a sense of inevitability to it all, as if you were always meant to end up here, in this strange town, with this strange man.

Ford sets the object down and turns to face you fully, his expression serious. "I don't know what brought you here," he says, "but I intend to find out. If you're telling the truth, then you have nothing to fear. But if you're hiding something... well, let's just say I've dealt with my fair share of dangerous entities."

You meet his gaze, your own expression unreadable. There's a part of you that wants to trust him, that wants to believe that he can help you. But there's also a part of you that remembers the pain, the loss, the betrayal. You've been through too much to let your guard down completely.

"I'm not hiding anything," you say finally, your voice steady. "I'm just trying to survive."

Ford nods slowly, his expression softening just a fraction. "Then we're on the same side," he says. "Because in this town, survival is a full-time job."

The tension in the room eases slightly, and you feel a small measure of relief. It's not much, but it's a start. For now, that's enough.

As the night falls outside the shack, the two of you sit in silence, the only sound the faint hum of the devices around you. The air is thick with unspoken questions, but for now, you're content to let them linger. You don't have all the answers, but maybe, just maybe, you'll find them here in Gravity Falls.

And as you sit there, in the quiet of the shack, you can't shake the feeling that this is just the beginning of something much bigger—a mystery that will change everything, not just for you, but for the entire town.

━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━

-ˋˏ [🖋] ˎˊ Note - Honestly now that you met ford the next maybe 2 to 3 maybe 4 chapters probably will be filler chapters with a little hint of seriousness or something also it's obvious you guys will meet dipper and Stan next

Love to write in the morning I need some tea or smth to give me those vibes :3

ok bye thanks for reading!! <333

━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━