A late-night train ride through Los Angeles turns into a descent through time, memory, and addiction. As the city rewinds itself around her, a woman is forced to face the versions of herself she thought she escaped.

Among shark teeth, bones, and objects pulled from the sea, two people begin to understand each other without needing to explain what they’ve survived. Some things are lost, some are remade, and some find their way back anyway.

A relationship unravels not in a single moment, but across the body, each part remembering the truth at a different pace. What remains is not a clean ending, but a quiet reconstruction of self, built from everything that refused to stay broken.

At a secret Tarot Mass where the lost come to be told who they are, the deck begins returning only one card: the Tower. As the ritual devours itself and the congregation transforms under its weight, a single refusal becomes the only exit left in a room built on surrender.

After being returned from something not entirely human, a group of glitching survivors meets to share symptoms, memories, and theories about why they were rejected. What starts as absurd group therapy slowly unravels into a chilling realization: the experiment may not be over.

A dead mother’s house starts crying in bubblegum pink, pulling one woman back into the parts of herself she was taught were childish, shameful, and too much to keep. Beneath the gloss and body horror, something stranger is waiting: not punishment, but permission.

In the aftermath of a manic break that felt more like revelation than illness, a woman struggles to survive the soft violence of being stabilized. As she moves through recovery, exile, and collapse, she must decide whether the wild self she became in the forest was something to escape or something worth carrying home.

A woman climbs to the Hollywood sign and slips into another version of Los Angeles, where time moves softly, art still matters, and her life has already unfolded into something fuller than the one she left behind. Waiting there is a woman who knows her by heart, and a future that asks what she is finally willing to choose.

A mysterious church in Echo Park offers no salvation, only recognition. Faced with a congregation of the lost and a preacher who speaks in their own voice, one visitor must decide whether remembering is its own kind of mercy.

When a state-sanctioned soulmate system activates and everyone around her is violently pulled into their assigned future, one woman is left untouched. What begins as isolation soon reveals itself as something worse: she was never meant to be matched, only watched.

A cursed camera turns the Mojave into a place of vanishing, where every photograph leaves one woman more alone than before. Beneath the desert sun, she is dragged toward a final reckoning with grief, blame, and the life that was never supposed to be hers.

In a desert where time stutters and the sky can’t hold itself together, a woman is confronted by a woman who insists they’ve done this before. This time, remembering might be the only way to stop losing her.

Somewhere off an unnamed road in the Mojave, a motel appears for those who have lost something they can’t return to. Inside, the rooms shift with your memory, and a girl who may not be entirely human offers you exactly what you didn’t know you needed to let go.