The radio clicked on by itself at 2:17 a.m.
Alex woke instantly.
Not groggy. Not confused. Just aware.
The sound wasn't loud—barely more than a whisper of static bleeding through the silence of his apartment above the shop. A low, uneven hiss. The kind that crawled under your skin rather than assaulted your ears.
He lay still, eyes open, counting breaths.
One.
Two.
Three.
The static didn't change.
That was the problem.
Radios were noisy by nature. Even broken ones fluctuated. This sound was steady, deliberate, as if something on the other end was holding the line open and waiting.
Alex sat up slowly, careful not to make a sound. The street outside was empty, washed pale under the streetlights. Rain had stopped sometime during the night, leaving the world glossy and reflective.
The radio sat on his workbench.
It wasn't plugged in.
He exhaled through his nose. "Of course it isn't."
SYSTEM ALERT
Unscheduled activation detected
Source: Environmental
Threat level: Low (for now)
Recommendation: Observe. Do not interfere.
Alex swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded barefoot across the floor. The air felt colder near the bench, the temperature dipping just enough to notice. His breath fogged faintly as he leaned closer.
The static deepened.
Not louder. Deeper. Like a frequency sliding beneath hearing rather than rising above it.
He didn't touch the radio.
Instead, he reached for the portable transmitter kit he'd assembled earlier that evening. He flipped it on, watching the needle twitch as it struggled to lock onto a signal that shouldn't exist.
The system fed him data in fragments—not numbers, but impressions. Distance without measurement. Direction without coordinates.
Something near the quarry.
Claire.
Alex's jaw tightened.
"Damn it," he muttered softly.
He was dressed and out the door in under a minute.
The road to the quarry was slick and empty, headlights cutting tunnels through the darkness. The radio static followed him—not through the car speakers, but through the air itself. It pressed at the edges of his awareness, like a headache that hadn't fully formed yet.
He killed the engine a hundred yards from the quarry's edge and stepped out.
The quiet was wrong.
No insects. No frogs. Not even the distant hum of a car engine from town.
The quarry water lay still, black and reflective, like a sheet of glass stretched over something bottomless. Mist clung low to the surface, curling unnaturally, as if pulled by invisible currents.
Claire stood near the edge.
She hadn't noticed him yet.
She was holding her cassette player, the same one she'd brought to the shop, its speaker emitting that low, steady hiss. Her shoulders were tense, posture rigid, eyes fixed on the water.
"Claire," Alex called softly.
She startled, spinning around. Relief flashed across her face—quick, unguarded—before she masked it.
"You scared me," she said, but her voice trembled just enough to give her away. "I tried calling you. Your line was dead."
"That was intentional," Alex replied, stopping a few feet away. "You shouldn't be out here."
She laughed weakly. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing."
The static surged.
The quarry water rippled.
Alex felt it then—a pressure change, subtle but unmistakable. Like the air itself was being pulled thin.
SYSTEM WARNING
Dimensional instability detected
Estimated severity: Minor breach precursor
Immediate danger: Low → escalating
"Claire," he said carefully, "I need you to step away from the edge."
Her gaze flicked back to the water. "You see it too, don't you?"
He didn't answer immediately.
The mist thickened, coiling inward, spiraling toward a single point on the water's surface. A distortion formed—not a hole, not yet—but a bend. Reality folded slightly, like heat shimmer on asphalt.
Alex swallowed.
"Yes," he said. "I see it."
She turned to him slowly. "Good. I was worried it was just me."
Something shifted then—not in the quarry, but between them.
Trust, thin and fragile, but real.
"Why does it react to sound?" she asked. "The tape, the radio—it's like it's listening."
Alex hesitated. This was the line. Step too far back, and she'd push forward alone. Step too far in, and there was no going back.
"Because sound travels," he said finally. "Through air. Through matter. Through places that aren't supposed to exist."
The distortion pulsed.
The static sharpened into something almost like… rhythm.
Claire took a step back.
"Okay," she said. "I officially don't like this anymore."
"Good," Alex replied. "Neither do I."
He pulled the transmitter from his jacket and adjusted the frequency, carefully tuning it away from resonance. The system guided him—not controlling his hands, but nudging, suggesting.
The static weakened.
The mist recoiled.
The water stilled.
The pressure eased like a held breath finally released.
Claire sagged, bracing herself against a rock. "What the hell was that?"
Alex powered down the transmitter and pocketed it. His hands were steady, but his pulse wasn't.
"A warning," he said. "Or a side effect."
"Of what?"
He looked at the quarry again, now quiet, normal, deceptively harmless. "Of something that doesn't like being ignored."
They stood there for a long moment, the night slowly remembering how to make noise again. Crickets chirped. A breeze rustled the trees.
Claire broke the silence. "You knew this would happen."
Alex didn't deny it.
"I didn't know when," he said. "Or who it would involve."
She studied his face, searching for something. Lies. Fear. Certainty.
She found none of those. Just readiness.
"Next time," she said quietly, "don't come alone."
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "I wasn't planning to."
They walked back toward town as dawn began to bruise the horizon with pale color.
At the edge of Hawkins, Claire stopped. "You're not just fixing electronics," she said. "You're preparing."
Alex nodded. "So are you."
She didn't argue.
As she turned to leave, she paused. "Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"If I ask you something… will you lie to me?"
He considered that. Then shook his head. "I'll tell you what you're ready to hear."
She accepted that answer with a small, tired smile and disappeared down the street.
Alex watched until she was gone.
SYSTEM UPDATE
New variable introduced: Ally (Unaware → Semi-aware)
Risk: Increased
Potential: Significant
He looked back at the quarry once more before heading home.
The quiet had returned.
But now he knew the truth.
It never stayed quiet for long.