**Under Revision**
Nalí Aria didn't return to her childhood home to look for answers-she returned because something inside her shifted, and the forest felt like the only place that might recognize her. Once a sanctuary carved by her witch-grandmother's quiet rituals, the house still held the weight of old spells and soft silences.
Now a celebrated filmmaker known for capturing what others overlook, Nalí arrives with a simple idea: film something for a contest on memory and familiarity. But what begins as creative exploration unfolds into something else entirely. She finds the altar she once offered to as a child. Her hands remember movements she never rehearsed. And her camera doesn't just record-it reveals. What she creates is Return, a short film not about memory, but made of it. It doesn't just win the contest. It opens a door.
A message follows-unsigned, poetic, and pointed: a request to make something older than film. A ritual the world once held for releasing what no longer serves. The kind of art that moves like invocation.
As Nalí begins to trace its threads, three others join her orbit.
Sol, her closest friend and the city's kinetic pulse, moves like rhythm made flesh. Malik, a quiet tattoo artist whose work feels like memory pressed into skin, carries more than ink in his veins. And then there's Arel-a painter of truths left unspoken. Spirit-touched, intuitive, and rooted in ritual.
Together, the four of them follow the threads of the unnamed request-through city streets and deep woods, through forgotten myths and roadside omens. What they're building is not a film, not a performance, but a rite. A way to remember how to let go of what the world no longer speaks aloud.
Still Orbit is a story of slow-burning magic, creative resonance, and the people who move like you've always known them. It's about choosing motion over perfection, presence over fear, and finding the people who help you remember who you've always been becoming.