The airwaves were alive with the untamed signal. When it first came, I thought it was just another ghost in the machine, a glitch feeding off static. But there was something different about this one, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand sentinel. It hummed, it whispered, it called to places deep inside us that we dared not name. We felt it before we heard it—this dire echo, riddling the silence of our known frequency.
Our instruments were no match for it. We dubbed it the superlative frequency, and it became our obsession. Days turned into nights and again into days, yet the signal remained constant, a sine wave of unimaginable origin thundering just on the edge of the known world. Techs whispered about extraterrestrial emissions, while skeptics scoffed, citing earthly explanations. But deep down, we all knew. Or perhaps we all feared that we didn't know at all.
As I sit here now, the echoes resonate still, a melody of madness. Somewhere, someone is listening. Somewhere, someone is watching. Will you heed the call? Or will you let it slip into the vastness like yesterday’s dawn?
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