Distrust-codex Here

As she drifted off, Elias held her hand, clutching the Codex in the other. For the first time, when the shadows began to warp and the air grew thin, the shimmering orbs didn't strike. They hovered, confused by the dual pulse of the wire.

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." As she drifted off, Elias held her hand,

"They" were the anomalies—shimmering, ethereal orbs that bled through the walls the moment a human brain slipped into REM cycle. They fed on the warmth of life, leaving behind nothing but frost-covered husks. The static on the radio was the only