Boundaries don't ask for loyalty at first.
They suggest it.
The morning carried a different weight—not heavier, but narrower. The city woke into corridors instead of spaces. The same streets, the same faces, but movement now bent around expectations that hadn't existed yesterday.
Sanctioned lanes felt smoother.Unsanctioned paths felt watched.
Not blocked.
Observed.
Arjun noticed the shift before I did."They're not stopping anyone," he said."They're remembering."
"Yes," I replied."And memory is the beginning of enforcement."
✦
The notices hadn't changed overnight.
But the tone had.
People read them longer. Looked around after reading. Checked who else had noticed them noticing.
Boundaries don't tighten through rules.
They tighten through eyes.
✦
By midmorning, the language sharpened.
A coordinator spoke to a mixed group—not commanding, not pleading.
"We're entering a phase where consistency matters," she said calmly."Mixed approaches create risk."
Risk again.
