A crossroads. Everyone moves — urgently, purposefully, as if they know where they are going. But the layered exposures betray what the body already senses: the city does not release. It pulls, circulates, draws back in. The streets multiply into each other; direction becomes illusion. This is not transit — it is a vortex. The viewer stands at the centre of it and realises: the road is not leading anywhere. It is simply continuing.