By now, the Athenaeum was like the back of her own hand.
Cecilia knew its layout well. She could have navigated its corridors blindfolded, counting the bricks as a telekinetic exercise, mapping every turn and staircase with the ease of long familiarity.
But apparently, there were still things she wasn't familiar with.
She found the student council office easily enough. A set of heavy wooden doors at the end of a corridor she had passed a hundred times. She knocked, polite and perfunctory, and reached for the handle.
The door swung open.
She stepped inside.
And the world clicked.
"A—"
A force pulled her in. Then, a sound came from behind her. A mechanical, sharp sound. She turned.
Click.
"Eh?"
Ka-click, ka-click.
"Huh?"
Ka-cli-cli-cli-cli-click—
She tried to turn and push, turn and push, each click a confirmation of her imprisonment. Cecilia stared at the door, a dawning realization settling over her.
Forced proximity.
