The shadows are real.
The night before opening, a theatre sits silent — except for one man. The director. Alone. Or so he thinks. Shadows move. Lines are spoken. His cast returns, but not as they were. They mock, they question, they twist beneath the stage lights. What begins as rehearsal slips into ritual. Time fractures. Ego bleeds. And in the dark, he’s forced to watch his own mind turn against him.
