Storybrooke had grown quieter in the days since the curse was broken. It wasn't the quiet of peace or relief, but something else entirely—an uneasy silence that wrapped itself around the town like a fog. People avoided the edges of town as if the invisible line separating their cursed lives from the outside world had become something far more sinister. Whispers spread through the streets, murmurs of unease growing louder with each passing day.
Regina sat in her office at Town Hall, her fingers flying over the pages of her ledger. The numbers and tasks were a distraction, something to drown out the endless spiral of questions in her mind. The boundary's lingering magic had been gnawing at her thoughts since the curse broke. Cora never left loose ends, and this felt too deliberate, too calculated to be dismissed as a side effect.
Her pen stilled as the door slammed open, the sharp noise cutting through the quiet hum of her focus. Regina looked up sharply to see Leroy—Grumpy—standing in the doorway, his face flushed and eyes wide.
"It's happened!" he bellowed, his voice hoarse from shouting. "I told you this would happen! I told all of you!"
Regina leaned back in her chair, her patience already wearing thin. "Care to explain before I toss you out of here?"
"It's Dopey!" Leroy shouted, practically shaking where he stood. "He crossed the line, and now he's just standing there. Doesn't know who he is anymore!"
The words hit Regina like a slap. Her stomach dropped as she rose to her feet, already reaching for her coat. "You're saying he lost his memory," she said, her voice cold, calculated. "Of everything?"
"Gone," Leroy said, shaking his head. "He doesn't even know his own name. Just kept asking me where the diner is."
Regina swept past him, barking orders as she went. "Find David and Henry. I want them at the boundary. And tell the others—if anyone so much as thinks about crossing the line, they'll answer to me."
By the time Regina arrived at the edge of the forest, a crowd had already gathered. Townsfolk huddled together, their whispered fears growing louder with each passing moment. All eyes were on Dopey, who stood motionless just beyond the invisible line. His face was blank, his movements slow and mechanical, as though someone had severed the strings of a puppet.
David was already there, his sheriff's badge glinting in the sunlight as he tried—and failed—to calm the crowd. Henry stood nearby, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He glanced nervously at Dopey, then up at David.
"What if it's happening to other people too?" Henry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's not," Regina interjected, her voice sharp as she approached. The crowd fell silent at her arrival, parting to let her through. "At least, not yet. But if anyone else crosses the line, it will."
She turned to the crowd, her tone commanding. "Listen carefully. No one—no one—is to go near the boundary. Dopey's condition is proof that the curse's magic isn't gone. It's changed, but it's still dangerous."
Granny, standing near the back, raised her voice. "Then how do we fix it? If the curse is still there, what's stopping it from getting worse?"
Regina didn't answer. She didn't have an answer—not yet. Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode away, her coat billowing behind her like a shadow.
Not far from the town's edge, Jefferson—the Mad Hatter—stood at the base of a crumbling bridge, his signature top hat perched at a jaunty angle. His eyes glittered with manic energy as he tinkered with a strange contraption of wires, gears, and magic-infused glass.
Snow and Emmett approached cautiously, drawn by rumors of someone "testing" the boundary. Emmett's jaw tightened as he caught sight of Jefferson, his irritation rising with every metallic clink and hum of the device.
"What are you doing?" Emmett asked sharply, crossing his arms.
Jefferson looked up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "What I always do, darling. Trying to find a way out."
Snow frowned, stepping closer. "You can't cross the line, Jefferson. We've seen what happens."
"Oh, I'm not crossing it," Jefferson said with a wink, gesturing to his contraption. "But that doesn't mean I can't poke it a little."
Before either of them could stop him, Jefferson flipped a switch. A sharp, piercing hum filled the air, and the shimmer of magic along the boundary flared brightly. Emmett took a step back, shielding his eyes, but it was too late. A sudden force yanked him and Snow forward, pulling them into the blinding light.
Jefferson stood frozen, his grin faltering as the light subsided, leaving nothing but the faint shimmer of magic where they had stood moments before. His contraption sparked and hissed, collapsing into a heap of twisted metal and smoldering wires. His hat toppled to the ground, its brim scorched and torn.
"Well," Jefferson muttered, brushing off his coat as he picked up the ruined hat. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
The news of Emmett and Snow's disappearance spread like wildfire, sending shockwaves through the already uneasy town. David stood at the boundary, his fists clenched as he glared at the empty space where his wife and son had vanished.
"They're not gone," Regina said as she approached, her voice clipped and decisive. "They've been transported. The magic around the boundary didn't erase them—it moved them."
David turned to her, his frustration palpable. "Moved them where?"
"The Enchanted Forest," Regina replied, her jaw tightening. "That's the only place magic of this kind would send them. Cora's influence is still tied to that realm."
David's expression hardened, resolve flashing in his eyes. "Then we bring them back."
Regina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'll work on it, but it's going to take time. You need to keep the town together. If anyone else tries to cross that line, we'll have more than a transportation problem."
The mausoleum was cold and damp as Regina descended the stone steps, the torch in her hand casting flickering shadows across the walls. Shelves lined the room, crammed with relics and artifacts of her past—tools of manipulation and remnants of Cora's dark magic. Somewhere in this maze of forgotten power lay the answers she needed.
Regina pulled open drawers, rifling through vials and scrolls. Her frustration mounted with every empty lead until her eyes landed on a small blackened box, its surface etched with swirling runes. She didn't recognize it, which was unusual; she knew every piece of magic her mother had left behind.
She picked up the box carefully, feeling a faint pulse of energy as it warmed in her hands. "What are you?" she murmured. But there was no time for detours. Whatever the box held would have to wait.
Continuing her search, she pulled down a tattered book from a dusty shelf. The pages detailed boundary spells and their connections to emotional tethers. Her breath caught as she read:
"Disrupting a tether risks fragmenting anchored memories and transporting the affected to an adjacent realm."
Her mother had planned this. The boundary's magic was tied to Emmett, and disrupting it had sent him and Snow to the Enchanted Forest. The implications were chilling. If the tether broke completely, it could erase Emmett altogether.
Slamming the book shut, Regina tucked it under her arm and climbed the stairs. She had no time to lose, whispering, "Hold on, Emmett. I'm coming."
At home, Henry flipped through his storybook again, his eyes scanning each page with growing determination. The story of the mirror had caught his attention earlier, but now he was searching for something more specific—anything that might explain what had happened to his dad and Snow.
He paused at an illustration of a swirling portal, its edges glowing with golden light. The caption read: "The Bridges Between Worlds: Paths forged by magic, connecting realms of the heart."
Henry's breath quickened as he studied the image. The portal looked eerily similar to the shimmer he'd seen at the town's boundary. He flipped the page, his gaze landing on another illustration—this one of a queen standing at the edge of a forest, her hand outstretched toward the portal.
"Mom," he whispered, closing the book. His heart pounded as he grabbed his jacket. "She needs to see this."