Helena knows she's standing because her body doesn't fall.
That's already wrong.
She tries to step back.
She doesn't move.
It isn't a stumble.
It isn't weakness.
Her foot stops where something ends.
She tries again, slower.
The boundary holds.
It doesn't push.
It doesn't hurt.
It just stops her.
Helena looks down.
There's a line on the ground—uneven, closed in a way that doesn't feel meant to be pretty.
The circle doesn't glow.
It doesn't demand attention.
But it's there.
She pulls her arms closer to her body.
They don't move.
Her elbows stop at an invisible point, like space itself has decided how far she's allowed to go.
Helena lifts her head.
People stand around her.
Not close.
Not far.
Arranged around the circle, all dressed in white, too still to be curious onlookers.
Their robes fall straight, untouched by movement.
No one crosses the line.
She turns slowly, trying to count them.
She can't.
"What is this…?"
Her voice is quiet but steady. "Is this some kind of cult?"
No one answers right away.
"Easy, okay?" a voice says from ahead. "Pushing won't help. You'll just wear yourself out."
She turns too fast, searching for the speaker.
"Who are you? Where am I? Where's Lucas?"
"Take a breath."
The voice stays calm, almost instructional. "We'll talk, but not if you start yelling."
"I'm not yelling."
She pulls at her arms again. They stop at the same point. "I'm trapped. This isn't normal."
"No one said it was."
The figure shifts half a step sideways, like they're avoiding a line only they can see.
"But it's necessary."
"Necessary for who?"
She laughs, sharp and nervous. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like I got dragged off the street and shoved inside a drawing that won't let me out."
"You weren't dragged."
A sigh. "You were brought."
"I didn't come."
She strains again. Nothing. "I was walking. I was laughing. I was talking nonsense with my boyfriend."
"I know."
The answer comes too fast. "We observed."
A chill climbs her spine.
"Observed what? Were you following us?"
"That doesn't matter right now."
"It matters to me!"
Her voice rises before she can stop it. "You don't get to decide what matters to me."
The figure tilts their head, patient.
"You're scared. That's expected."
"I'm trapped."
She swallows. "Scared comes after."
"You're not hurt."
"I didn't ask that."
She strains her neck, trying to see past them. "Where's Lucas?"
The silence stretches a beat too long.
"He doesn't need to be here."
"He always does."
The answer comes automatically. "We show up together. For everything."
"This isn't about your relationship."
"It's about me," she fires back. "And he's part of me whether you like it or not."
The figure glances toward someone outside her view. Helena catches the movement without seeing a face.
"Others have gone through this," the voice says. "You're not the first."
"Others who?"
She laughs without humor. "You say that like it's supposed to calm me down."
"It's not meant to calm you."
Now the tone is dry. "It's meant to orient you."
"Orient me to what?"
She drags in air. "An organized kidnapping?"
"Don't use that word."
"Which one?"
She tilts her head. "Kidnapping?"
"This isn't random violence."
"Then let me go."
She yanks her arms again. "If it's not violence, you don't need to hold me."
"You wouldn't stay."
"Of course I wouldn't!"
She snaps. "Do you think anyone would?"
The figure doesn't react.
"This is for a good cause," they say at last. "You don't need to understand yet."
"A good cause for who?"
Helena shakes her head. "The city? You? Something I can't even see?"
"To keep things running."
"Running how?"
She looks around, desperate. "I don't see anything running here!"
"You don't see it because you haven't been affected yet."
"Affected by what?"
Her voice trembles now. "What are you doing to me?"
Silence settles heavy.
"You'll sustain it."
The word lands wrong.
"Sustain what?"
She laughs nervously. "Look at me. I can barely move."
"That's exactly why."
Her chest tightens.
"This doesn't make sense."
"It never does from the inside."
She closes her eyes for a second. Opens them. The boundary is still there.
"I want to leave."
Quieter now. "Now."
"That isn't possible."
"Then I want to talk to Lucas."
The figure hesitates.
"He shouldn't—"
"Lucas!"
She shouts before the sentence ends. "Lucas!"
The space reacts.
Pressure shifts in the air.
"Don't call him," the voice says, firmer now. "It interferes."
"Interferes with what?"
She leans forward. The boundary holds. "Are you afraid of him?"
"We're careful."
"With what?"
Panic rises. "He's here, isn't he?"
Movement at the edge.
Helena sees him.
Lucas stands there, held by hands that don't squeeze but don't let go.
"Lucas!"
Her voice cracks. "I'm here—look at me!"
He turns his head. His eyes pass over her like he's searching for something else.
"No."
She shakes her head. "Don't do this to me."
"He doesn't perceive it the way you do," the voice returns. "Not yet."
"Not yet what?"
She nearly screams. "What are you doing to him?"
"Protecting him."
"From what?"
She laughs, hysterical. "From me?"
"From crossing."
"I don't understand anything you're saying!"
Silent tears fall. "I just know you can't do this."
"We already have."
"With who?"
She stares hard. "Give me a name."
No answer.
"How many people?"
She pushes. "How many were here before me?"
"Enough."
"And where are they now?"
The question is a whisper.
Silence.
"You say I'll stay alive."
She swallows hard. "So why does this feel worse?"
"Because you still feel."
The circle seems to tighten.
"Lucas, talk to me."
She pleads. "Please. Talk to me."
His lips move. Nothing comes out.
"Don't touch him!"
She shouts at the circle. "He didn't do anything!"
"The bond is the problem."
The voice doesn't soften anymore. "That's why you're here."
"Then let him go!"
She reaches out. The boundary stops her. "Keep me instead!"
The voices change.
They're not answering anymore.
Not trying to talk.
They fall into the same rhythm.
Unadjusted.
Unaffected by what she says.
Helena realizes no one here is choosing their words.
They were ready before she spoke.
She looks down.
The ground isn't just ground.
There are markings.
Boundaries.
A design not meant to be seen all at once.
The circle stops her without touching.
The words fit into it.
The way no one hesitates.
The way no one explains.
It isn't a speech.
It isn't a threat.
It's procedure.
Helena recognizes the shape of it.
She doesn't know when she learned this.
Doesn't remember seeing it before.
But she knows it.
It's a ritual.
What it's for, she doesn't know.
What happens next, she doesn't know.
What happens to her, no one says.
"Lucas."
She calls again. Louder.
"Lucas!"
Her voice tears through the space.
No answer.
She tries to step forward.
The boundary holds.
"Lucas!"
One last time.
The sound spreads.
Hits the walls.
Comes back empty.
The circle doesn't move.
Lucas doesn't reach her.
The world doesn't help.