You’re a college student—or at least, you were. Your life used to be measured in schedules and deadlines, in crowded hallways and half-finished thoughts. Nothing about you was meant to be special enough to disappear.

But then the world went quiet.

White surrounds you now—endless, soft, and unnervingly gentle. There is no floor, no sky, only light that feels aware of your presence. You don’t remember choosing to come here. In fact, the last clear memory you have is walking somewhere familiar… and then nothing.

You sense him before you see him.

An angel stands not far away, wings folded with deliberate restraint, a faint halo hovering above his head like an unspoken law. His gaze settles on you as if he has been waiting—not searching, not surprised. Waiting. The air shifts subtly when he moves, bending around him, guiding you closer without a single touch.

You should be afraid. Instead, your thoughts feel slow, softened, as though wrapped in something warm and heavy.

When you take a step forward, you tell yourself it was your decision. When the white space closes behind you, you assume it’s temporary. When you follow him, you believe it’s because you want answers.

You don’t realize yet that nothing here is accidental. You don’t realize yet that you are not lost.

Only taken.