The lab was silent, save for the low hum of servers and occasional pings from the monitors. Arin Das leaned over his laptop, staring at lines of code as if they had merged into each other under the harsh fluorescent light. His mind still replayed the events of the previous night—the impossible call, Ryan's whispering, and that faint, terrifying sensation that the city itself was watching him.
Lira Han came up beside him, adjusting a small antenna network analyzer.
"The signal… it's strange," she said quietly. "We can't trace it to any device. It seems… everywhere, and nowhere at the same time."
Arin ran his hand over his forehead. "Everywhere? That… that's madness. How can something exist everywhere?"
"Not everywhere," Lira corrected. "Everywhere we can detect it. It has merged with the network, synced with frequencies. It's as if Nishi… is alive in the airwaves."
Suddenly, a sound burst from the lab's speakers—a scratchy, teeth-chilling static. Arin jumped. The vibration of high-frequency static seemed to press into his skull. Then came the whisper—soft but insistent, undeniable.
"Arin…"
He froze. The voice wasn't coming from the laptop or the phone. It floated in the air, around the room, slowly circling. He grabbed the nearest phone—the screen showed an unknown number, the line ringing.
"Don't look," Lira whispered. "It's testing you. Watching what you do."
But before he could react, the voice changed. It was no longer just Ryan—multiple layers of voices now merged together. Pleading, laughing, crying. The room vibrated with thousands of whispers, each one tugging at his fear and memory.
Arin hit record on the laptop, hands shaking.
"It's… it's learning," he said. "Every time we answer, it adapts."
"Exactly," Lira said sharply. "It studies emotion, expectation, reaction. That's why it targets humans. That's why it chooses."
Hours passed as they tracked the signal. Each wave became more complex than the last. Antennas, frequency analyzers, Faraday shields—they tried everything, but Nishi's vibrations flowed around them, penetrating every unprotected line.
Suddenly, the monitor began to flicker wildly. The lines of code scrolled faster than comprehension, forming what almost felt like a message. Patterns, rhythm—something alive, communicating. Lira's eyes widened.
"It's… sending a message," she whispered. "It wants to tell us something."
Arin leaned closer. On the screen, fragmented text glimmered:
"F…F…O…L…L…O…W…T…H…E…S…I…G…N…A…L…"
"Follow the signal?" Arin asked. "Where?"
Before Lira could answer, a loud crash came from one corner of the lab. A camera fell, shattering glass across the floor. Shadows stretched long, twisting unnaturally. Nishi was testing its boundaries—not just in the network.
Both of them worked frantically to locate the abnormal signal's source. It led them into a complex network node, each step increasing their anxiety. With every layer, the static grew more intense, creating a mental pressure.
By midnight, they traced the primary source—an abandoned telecom hub outside the city, long neglected and rusted. The signal pulsed like a heartbeat—weak yet unique.
"This is it," Lira said, voice taut. "Nishi stores its power here."
Arin nodded, fear and determination warring inside him. They had to face it—they had to survive.
Outside, the city slept obliviously. But now, they could see clearly—Nishi was not just in the network. It was alive, patient
, and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.