The voices.They don't make sense anymore. And yet, at the same time, they do.

Frantic breath pounds in my head, heavy and relentless, as if someone is hyperventilating beside me. Clinging to their very soul. The constant pestering—the invasion of privacy. Every glance feels redirected, every thought monitored.

The only people who hear the voices are those who work for their bosses. Each one is bound to a voice, a presence that exists only in their minds. A guide, in a way. But something is missing.

It doesn't make sense, to be honest.

How does one divide into two?

It would be easy to say that those who hear the voices are simply insane. But that can't be it—not when more than 200 people in this very building hear them too.

Why try to understand its purpose?

The voices are there to protect.

We take what little hope we can.

Vivian won't open his eyes anymore. Shapes blur, swallowed by darkness. The air is cool. Maybe the AC is on full blast.

His boss does that when she panics. Sweat beads on her forehead, and she dials the temperature down as if freezing the air will stop her own unraveling.

It's refreshing, in a way.

I've been talking to myself more lately. It makes me think.

How long do we have left?

Not long. That much, I'm sure of.

Sometimes, I forget Vivian's name. Not a good sign.

But I believe it'll be okay. We'll be free soon.

The boss lady trembles. Sleep is a luxury she can't afford. Every second that ticks by, she fears Vivian will stop breathing for good.

She gave him an oxygen tank. Even that might not be enough.

So, in desperation, she does the one thing she hates most.

She goes outside.

People need the sun. Without it, they wither. The same goes for the overuse of drugs.

Dragging Vivian with her, she steps into the hallway. Doors line the walls, identical and unmarked. A single elevator stands at the end. She stabs the button repeatedly, her fingers shaking.

Another boss is there. His worker is unconscious, slumped against him.

She stares at him in horror.

Unlike her, he is calm.

"How are you so calm in this situation?" she demands.

The man turns to her, slow and deliberate. His voice is hollow.

"They tried to leave me again," he says. "I couldn't handle it. So I broke their legs. They need the sun."

She stiffens.

How?

How could someone do that?

Fear grips her as she pulls Vivian closer.

The other boss gives her a cold, disinterested look. "I won't take yours," he mutters. "Mine is good enough. Besides, yours won't last much longer. Useless."

That sets something off in her.

How dare he?

Vivian is the most precious thing in this wretched world.

That boss... thing... doesn't deserve anyone. He should be gone. The worker by his side looks hollow, like they've already given up. Like they're begging for an end.

She would never let that happen to Vivian.

Never.

The elevator dings. Finally, the doors open.

She steps inside, and when she reaches the bottom floor, she doesn't look back.

Outside, a small dome-like park rests beside the towering building. The only things beyond are the lush green forest that encircles the structure and the small greenhouse at its center.

She pushes through the door.

Inside, other bosses sit with their workers—some as lifeless as Vivian. Some tied up. Others simply staring blankly through the glass, eyes lost to something distant and unreachable.

A heavy stillness blankets the air.

She kneels on the grass, lowering Vivian gently onto her lap.

Her fingers thread through his hair.

"I won't ever hurt you, Vivian."

A promise. A vow.

"I'll treat you better. I'll give you real food. We'll go outside more. I think that will make you happy. It'll make you feel better. And if you behave..."

She leans in close, whispering the last part against his ear.

"...maybe we can leave this place."

It's a dangerous thought.

Leaving is forbidden.

No one is allowed to step beyond the building and the forest that shields it.

That is the only rule.

In exchange, the bosses receive shelter, company, and health care for their workers. A stable existence.

But is it worth it?

Food doesn't really matter. Not to her.

Because she isn't really alive.

Neither are the others.

All of them—bosses, shadow people—are remnants of something long lost. They exist in isolation, unseen by normal people. Yet, they cannot comfort one another. They see too much of each other's flaws, their obsessions, their unbearable loneliness.

They want to feel human again.

Perhaps human interaction eases that void.

But some are greedy.

This building is a haven for shadows. A place for the lost and desperate. Some stumble upon it unknowingly, seeking companionship, only to become bound by its walls.

She doesn't know how she became this way.

Her true form is what Vivian sees.

But to others, a shadow person is only a silhouette with glowing eyes, their form flickering like smoke. Gradually, they regain the appearance of who they once were—though perhaps a little more idealized.

People say they are sinners.

That this is their punishment.

That they are cursed to live in eternal solitude, tormented by obsession.

She doesn't know what crime she committed to deserve this.

But at least she met Vivian.

At least she had him.

Still, she knows the truth.

She will continue to exist, even when Vivian dies.

And when he is gone...

She will be alone again.

This building was created by shadow people, born from desperation.

A mistake.

And in the end, they all know.

Their suffering will only deepen.

But what is there to lose?

Other than the one thing you've bonded with...

The one thing keeping you tethered to this world.