There is a frequency between silence and panic. It hums in the power lines after midnight. It warps the shape of familiar trees into witnesses. And in Greyhill, that frequency has found a home.
The static knows your name.
You will hide. You will run. You will clutch a revolver with three bullets and wonder if the fourth chamber was always empty. Greyhill Incident Build 12751524
The narrative doesn't ask you to save the world. It asks you to save your street . To look out your living room window and realize that the dark shapes standing by the mailbox have been watching you sleep for weeks. There is a frequency between silence and panic