No one stopped them.
That was the first thing she noticed.
Not when the door opened behind her. Not when the air shifted. Not even when the men who entered didn't bother hiding what they were.
They didn't rush her or grab her. They didn't threaten her either. They simply walked toward her, calm and certain, and the room made space for them without question.
That was worse.
Her fingers tightened slightly at her sides as she turned to face them.
There were three of them, tall in a way that felt unnatural, their movements too smooth, too controlled, like every step had already been decided before it happened. Their clothes were dark and fitted, unfamiliar in a way she couldn't place, and none of them looked directly at her at first.
It felt like she didn't matter.
Or worse, like she already belonged to them.
Her throat felt dry.
"Come," one of them said.
His voice was calm, almost gentle, but there was something in it that made it clear it wasn't a request.
She didn't move immediately.
Her eyes shifted past them, back to the table, back to her father.
He still hadn't looked at her.
Not once.
Something sharp rose in her chest, something bitter enough to burn, and she hated that it was there.
"Please," she said quietly. "Just—"
Nothing.
No reaction.
He shifted slightly in his seat, rubbing his face like he was the one who had been wronged, like he had lost something important.
Like she wasn't the one being taken.
Something inside her went still then.
Not shattered.
Not broken.
Just… still in a way that felt final.
The kind of stillness that comes when something inside you quietly gives up.
She swallowed and let out a slow breath.
"Okay."
The word came out softer than she intended, but it didn't shake.
One of the men glanced at her briefly, and for a second something flickered in his expression, something she couldn't quite name, but it disappeared before she could understand it.
He turned toward the door.
She followed.
Because there was nothing else left to do.
The night outside felt colder than it should have, or maybe it was just her. The city was quieter than usual, like the world had stepped back and decided not to interfere.
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
No one came after her.
Not her father.
Not anyone.
Just her.
And them.
"Where are we going?" she asked, forcing her voice to stay steady.
No answer.
Of course.
She let out a breath and kept walking.
The streets blurred together after a while. She stopped trying to keep track of where they were going because it didn't matter. Even if she remembered every turn, she wasn't going back.
Not after that.
The further they walked, the quieter it became.
Fewer people.
Less light.
Until the city felt like it had disappeared entirely.
She slowed slightly.
"This isn't—" she started, then stopped when one of them turned to look at her.
There was no irritation in his expression, no impatience.
Just awareness.
"Keep walking," he said.
And she did.
Because something in the way he said it made it clear that stopping wasn't really an option.
They reached what looked like nothing.
An empty stretch of land, barely lit, with no path forward.
She frowned, her steps slowing.
"There's nothing here."
No one answered.
The one in front stepped forward.
And then everything changed.
It didn't happen with a flash or a sound. It was quieter than that, more subtle.
The air shifted, like something unseen
had moved aside.
Her breath caught.
Because suddenly, there was something there.
A path.
Faint at first, like it had been hidden just beneath the surface of reality.
It stretched forward into darkness that didn't look like night.
It looked deeper than that.
Heavier.
Wrong.
Her stomach dropped.
"No," she said before she could stop herself.
The word came out sharper this time, more real.
"This doesn't make sense."
One of them stepped closer, not touching her, but close enough that she felt it.
"You were given," he said quietly. "The path is open."
Her heart started to race.
Given.
Like she was something that could be handed over and moved without question.
She took a small step back.
"I'm not going in there."
The words felt weak the moment they left her mouth, not because she didn't mean them, but because something in the air already knew they didn't matter.
The man in front of her tilted his head slightly, studying her.
"You already have."
Her brows pulled together. "What?"
He gestured behind her.
She turned.
And froze, air locking in her lungs.
The world she knew disappeared.
The road, the buildings, the faint glow of the city—everything had disappeared completely, like it had never existed.
Her chest tightened, panic rising too fast, too sharp.
"No… that's not possible."
She turned back quickly, her pulse pounding.
"This isn't real."
No one argued.
No one tried to comfort her.
They didn't need to.
The truth was already there.
She just hadn't accepted it yet.
Her breathing slowed gradually, though it still felt uneven.
Her mind searched desperately for something that made sense, something she could hold onto.
But there was nothing.
Nothing except one thing.
This wasn't human.
Not the men.
Not the path.
Not whatever waited ahead.
Her gaze lifted slowly toward the darkness.
Then, without another word, she stepped forward.
The moment her foot touched the path, the air changed.
It felt colder.
Heavier.
Alive in a way that made her skin prickle.
She swallowed and kept moving, her hands curling slightly at her sides.
Step by step.
Deeper into something she didn't understand.
Something she couldn't escape.
Behind her, the last trace of her world disappeared.
And ahead, the darkness stretched on.
Waiting.