Distrust-codex

"Listen to this," Elias said, his voice raspy. He traced a line of shaky text. 'The spheres are not hunters; they are reflections. They do not find us in the station; they find us in the mind. To survive the sleep, you must anchor the dream.'

The static on the radio was the only thing louder than the wind howling against the corrugated metal walls of Station 11. Elias stared at the glowing monitors, his eyes stinging. He hadn't slept in thirty-six hours. distrust-codex

Next to him, Vera was vibrating—not from the cold, but from the caffeine and the sheer, raw terror of closing her eyes. "We can’t keep this up, Elias," she whispered. "The heaters are failing. If we don’t sleep, we freeze. If we sleep... they come." "Listen to this," Elias said, his voice raspy