They will say she vanished.That she lost her mind.That she walked into nothing and never came back.
They'll never speak of the chain around her ankle.The collar sealed by silence.The way her name, once said with warmth, became a whisper meant for worship.
She didn't fall.
She was called.
Not by a man.Not by a god.But by something older.
Something that does not ask.
Something that takes.
And when it does—
You don't run.You kneel.