"Line up."
We moved without thinking.
The hallway felt narrower when everyone stood still. Shoulders brushed, small movements bumping into each other before settling into place. The smaller ones shuffled forward, trying to see past the taller ones.
"Stop pushing."
"I'm not pushing."
"You are."
"I'm just standing."
"Then stand properly."
A few quiet laughs slipped through before fading.
I stood where I always did.
Or at least, I think I did.
The floor had faint marks—lines that weren't really lines, just slightly different shades where feet had stood too often. Some people followed them exactly. Others didn't.
I wasn't sure which one I was supposed to be.
"Straight," the voice said.
We adjusted.
Silence followed.
It stretched longer than usual.
Not uncomfortable—just… noticeable.
Beside me, someone leaned slightly closer.
"Do you know what we're doing after this?"
I shook my head. "Rest, probably."
"We just rested yesterday."
"We rest every day."
"Not like that."
I glanced at them. "What do you mean?"
They hesitated.
"…I don't know."
That made two of us.
Footsteps approached.
Slow. Even.
I kept my eyes forward, but I could feel it—something passing along the line, not stopping, just… observing.
It paused somewhere behind me.
Then, they moved again.
"Good," the voice said.
A small pause.
"…Almost."
No one reacted.
Or maybe we did, just not enough to be seen.
"You may return."
The line broke.
Not all at once—just enough for the shape to loosen, for movement to return in small steps. We drifted back into the main room, conversations starting up again as if nothing had happened.
"Did you hear that?" someone whispered.
"Hear what?"
"They said 'almost.'"
"They always say things like that."
"No, they don't."
"They do."
"When?"
"…I don't know. But they do."
"That doesn't count."
"It does."
I walked past them, not joining in.
"Hey," someone called out to me. "How many were in line?"
I slowed.
"What?"
"In line. Did you count?"
"…No."
"Why not?"
"I didn't think about it."
"Oh."
A pause.
"…Do you think we're supposed to?"
I frowned slightly. "Why would we?"
"I don't know. It just feels like it."
"That doesn't make sense."
"Yeah."
We both went quiet after that.
The room felt the same as always.
Warm. Still. Familiar.
But there were parts of it I didn't recognize.
Not new—just… unnoticed before.
Like the door near the far wall.
It had always been there.
I was sure of it.
But I couldn't remember ever seeing it open.
"Don't go near that."
I turned.
One of the older ones stood a few steps away, arms loosely crossed.
"I wasn't," I said.
"You were looking."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"It does."
I glanced back at the door. "What's inside?"
They didn't answer right away.
Then—
"Nothing for us."
"That's not an answer."
"It is."
"No, it's not."
They exhaled softly. "It's enough."
That phrase again.
"Have you seen inside?" I asked.
"…No."
"Then how do you know?"
Another pause.
"I just do."
"That doesn't make sense."
"Yeah."
We stood there for a moment longer.
Then someone called out from across the room.
"Are we allowed to play again?"
"No," came the reply.
"Why not?"
"It's not time."
"When is it time?"
"When you're told."
"That's not fair."
"It doesn't have to be."
A few of us laughed at that, though it wasn't really funny.
Later, I found myself near the windows.
They were too high to look through properly.
I had tried before.
Everyone had, at some point.
You could see light.
Sometimes movement.
But never anything clear.
"Do you think there's something out there?"
I hadn't noticed someone standing beside me.
"I don't know," I said.
"There has to be."
"Why?"
"Because there's a fence."
I thought about that.
"…Maybe the fence is just there."
"That doesn't make sense."
"You said that earlier."
"Because things don't make sense."
"Then why ask?"
They didn't answer.
I looked up again.
The light outside shifted slightly, as something had passed in front of it.
I blinked.
"…Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"Nothing."
A pause.
"…Do you think we've always been here?"
I looked at them.
"What kind of question is that?"
"I don't know. It just came to mind."
"…Where else would we be?"
They opened their mouth, then closed them.
"…I don't know."
We stood there in silence.
"Gather."
The voice cut through the room.
We turned immediately, moving back toward the center.
It felt more organized this time.
More exact.
We formed rows without being told.
I didn't remember learning how.
"Stay."
We did.
Footsteps again.
Closer this time.
Slower.
I felt it pass in front of us.
Then stop.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
A shift.
Small.
Subtle.
But enough.
Someone behind me inhaled sharply.
I almost turned.
Almost.
But I didn't.
"You may rest."
The pressure lifted.
We broke formation.
I glanced around as we moved.
Everything looked the same.
Everyone looked the same.
Nothing had changed.
…
I think.
That night, as we settled into our places, the room felt quieter than usual.
Not empty.
Just… missing something.
I closed my eyes.
Tried to think.
Tried to remember.
But every time I got close to something—
It slipped away.
Like it was never there to begin with.