[Setting]

It’s early evening, and Elliot is walking through town with Claire. They’ve just picked up takeout—Thai food—and are making their way through a quiet neighborhood park, the sky a dusky blue. Elliot is more relaxed than usual, maybe because the god of coincidence hasn’t made an appearance today. No goats, no maps, just a simple, ordinary evening.

Or so he thinks.

Suddenly, a man stumbles into their path, nearly bumping into Elliot. He looks disheveled—his shirt’s untucked, and he’s wearing a mismatched pair of shoes, one black, one brown. He looks up at Elliot, and there’s something about his eyes that makes Elliot do a double take. There’s a spark of recognition, but it’s distant, like something from a dream.

Charlie (smiling sheepishly): “Oh, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to interrupt your walk. It’s just… well, it’s been one of those days, you know?”

Elliot (narrowing his eyes slightly, feeling that tug of familiarity): “No problem… Have we met before?”

Charlie (laughing softly, waving a hand dismissively): “I get that a lot. I’ve just got one of those faces, I suppose. Or maybe it’s because I used to be something of a big deal. At least, that’s what people told me.”

Claire (smiling kindly, stepping a little closer): “A big deal, huh? What were you, like a celebrity or something?”

Charlie (chuckling, rubbing the back of his neck): “Oh, something like that. More like a… leader, I guess. You know, the kind that never actually leads but just… follows along, and somehow people end up thinking you’re in charge.”

Elliot (frowning, the sense of recognition still nagging at him): “Uh-huh. A leader that follows? That’s… interesting.”

Charlie (grinning, his eyes twinkling with mischief): “Isn’t it, though? Life’s funny like that. Sometimes, people think you’re the one making all the decisions, but really, you’re just stumbling around like everyone else—following goats, chasing umbrellas.”

Elliot blinks. Goats? Umbrellas? The words hit a nerve, and for a moment, he almost remembers. There’s something very familiar about this man.

Claire (raising an eyebrow, intrigued): “You followed goats?”

Charlie (nodding with a wistful smile): “Oh, yes. There was this one goat in particular—always managed to find its way into the most important moments. No matter what I did, that goat was there. I tried to plan everything—tried to make it all go according to some kind of grand vision—but that goat always found a way to remind me that plans are just… suggestions, really.”

Elliot (looking skeptical, glancing at Claire): “Sounds like you had a pretty chaotic life.”

Charlie (sighing, though there’s a hint of amusement in his voice): “You could say that. You could also say that I had everything anyone could want—power, respect, a whole kingdom of people who looked up to me. But the truth is, I was just a guy stumbling from one coincidence to the next. The real trick was convincing everyone, myself included, that I knew what I was doing.”

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Claire and Elliot exchange a look. Elliot’s curiosity is piqued, though there’s still that feeling—like he’s brushing up against something just out of reach.

Claire (gently): “So what happened? Did you… lose it all?”

Charlie (smiling, though there’s a sadness to it): “In a way. I suppose I realized that I never really had anything to lose in the first place. It was all just moments—beautiful, fleeting moments. The goat, the feasts, the people cheering my name… None of it was ever really mine. I was just lucky enough to be there while it all happened. But that’s alright, you know? Because in the end, it wasn’t about what I had. It was about what I got to experience.”

Elliot feels a strange heaviness settle over him. There’s something in what Charlie’s saying that resonates—an echo of the things the god of coincidence has been trying to tell him. He can’t shake the feeling that he should know this man, that there’s a connection he’s missing.

Elliot (tilting his head, studying Charlie’s face): “You said people thought you were in charge… but you were just following along. Why didn’t you just tell them the truth?”

Charlie (laughing softly): “Oh, I tried. But people like their stories, don’t they? They need to believe that someone’s steering the ship, even if it’s just a guy who’s as lost as they are. And honestly, sometimes I liked believing it too. Made the randomness feel a little less… random.”

Claire (smiling, nodding): “I get that. It’s comforting to think someone’s got it all figured out, even if it’s just pretend.”

Charlie (grinning at her): “Exactly. It’s all pretend, but it’s the best kind of pretend. It lets us dance with the chaos instead of fighting it.”

Elliot feels a shiver run down his spine. Dance with the chaos. He’s heard that before—maybe not those exact words, but the sentiment. The god’s voice echoes in his mind, telling him to embrace the randomness, to stop trying to find control where there is none. He looks at Charlie, really looks, and there’s a flicker of recognition—something about the way he holds himself, the glint in his eye.

Elliot (slowly, his eyes narrowing): “Charlie… do you know someone who calls themselves the god of coincidence?”

Charlie (pausing, then smiling, his eyes twinkling): “The god of coincidence? Oh, I think I’ve met them once or twice. Always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, that one.”

Elliot’s heart skips a beat. He looks at Claire, who’s watching Charlie with wide eyes. There’s a moment of silence before Charlie claps his hands together.

Charlie: “Anyway! I’ve got to be off—places to be, goats to chase, you know how it is.”

Elliot (staring at him, still trying to put the pieces together): “Wait, but… who are you, really?”

Charlie (winking): “Just a regular guy, my friend. Just a man called Charlie. But don’t worry—you’ll figure it out. Or maybe you won’t. Either way, it’ll be quite the adventure.”

With that, Charlie gives them a nod and turns, walking away with an easy stride, whistling a tune that sounds strangely familiar. Elliot watches him go, his mind racing, the sense of déjà vu gnawing at him.

Claire (softly, nudging Elliot): “Do you think… he was…?”

Elliot (sighing, rubbing his face): “I don’t know. But something tells me that guy has seen a lot more than he let on. And I think… I think he was trying to tell us something.”

Claire (smiling gently): “Maybe the truth isn’t always what we expect it to be.”

Elliot (laughing bitterly): “Yeah. Maybe the truth is just… some guy named Charlie.”

They stand there for a moment, the quiet of the evening settling around them. Elliot feels both frustrated and oddly at peace—like he’s taken a step closer to understanding something, even if he still doesn’t quite know what it is.

Claire (gently, tugging at his arm): “Come on, let’s get home. The Thai food’s getting cold.”

Elliot (nodding, giving one last look in the direction Charlie disappeared): “Yeah… let’s go.”

As they walk away, Elliot can’t help but smile, a small, almost imperceptible smile. Because maybe, just maybe, the randomness isn’t so bad after all. Maybe there’s something kind of wonderful about meeting a “king” who’s just a regular man named Charlie, stumbling through life like the rest of them.

[End Scene]

[retcon:1]