Prologue
Berlin blinked against the glow of the radio dial, the only light in the cramped attic. Outside, the night was quiet—thick summer darkness pressing against the tiny windows. Inside, the hum of ancient equipment filled the air, like a chorus of ghosts stuck somewhere between stations.
They'd been at this for hours, twisting dials, adjusting knobs, searching for anything beyond the usual chatter of truckers, weather broadcasts, and late-night insomniacs. Yet something in Berlin refused to call it a night. A hunch. Or maybe just a feeling that the white noise was hiding secrets waiting to be found.
"Come on," Berlin muttered under their breath, leaning closer to the transmitter. They gently turned the tuning knob, scanning through static in small increments. The hiss rose and fell, the old metal antenna trembling slightly in the breeze that slipped through a cracked window.
Nothing new. Nothing at all.
Berlin sighed, ready to power down the rig, when a faint melody floated through the static like the first notes of a lullaby. It was fragile—barely there. But it wrapped around the attic, curling into Berlin's ears. They froze. The tune tugged at something deep, something older than memory.
A distant voice crackled behind the melody, but the words refused to surface. Berlin's pulse thudded in their chest. Heart pounding, they adjusted the frequency a hair's breadth more. For an instant, it came through clearer—enough to catch a single phrase:
"…forever waiting…"
Then silence swallowed it whole.
Berlin felt goosebumps climb their arms. They frowned at the transmitter, flicking switches, frantically trying to coax that spectral signal back. Nothing but the wail of static. Their fingers shook against the dials.
They replayed the snippet in their mind—music and words that seemed to echo from beyond everything they knew. The sense of recognition gnawed at them. It was as though they'd heard this song once upon a time, in a place they couldn't quite remember.
Slowly, Berlin sat back. The night seemed darker now, heavier with the weight of an unsolved riddle. Maybe it was a pirate station, or someone messing around with a homemade transmitter in the next county over. But that didn't explain why it felt… personal.
Reluctantly, they powered down the radio. Outside, a lone cricket chirped. Berlin's thoughts raced. If that strange melody was out there, they had to find it again. Had to understand it. Because hidden in those notes, in that voice, there might be answers.
Or maybe, they realized with a shiver, it was only the beginning of a question too big to comprehend.