The lab was a fortress of light and sound, its walls lined with humming machines and glowing holo-displays. Elena leaned over a workstation, her eyes fixed on a spectral analysis of Lukas Varn’s CD, the twelve-song cycle that had turned her dreams into reality. The screen pulsed with jagged peaks—frequencies that shouldn’t exist, weaving through the music like hidden currents. Her fingers twitched, itching to adjust the parameters, but the data was clear: this wasn’t just music. It was a key, unlocking something deep in the human mind.
Aisha stood beside her, her tablet clutched like a lifeline, her sharp features taut with concentration. The soundproof testing room’s aftermath still lingered between them—Aisha’s haunted expression, the fire she’d seen, the theta wave spike that mirrored Elena’s own. The lab buzzed with activity, scientists darting between stations, corporate reps hovering near Victor, who was briefing a new batch of government officials. The air was thick with urgency, the weight of a world unraveling outside these walls.
Elena adjusted the holo-display, zooming in on a low-frequency hum buried in the music’s structure. “Look at this,” she said, her voice low but insistent. “Subsonic frequencies, below 20 hertz. They’re not audible, but they’re there, pulsing like a heartbeat.”
Aisha frowned, leaning closer. “That’s in the theta range—4 to 8 hertz. Dream state territory.” She swiped her tablet, pulling up EEG data from their earlier test. “Matches the spikes we saw when I… when the music played.”
Elena nodded, her mind racing. She’d felt it too, that pull, the melody wrapping around her thoughts like a lover’s embrace. Her cats—Pippin, Shadow, Mischief—had sprung from that dream, their playful warmth now a stark contrast to Aisha’s burning city. “It’s not just theta,” she said, pointing to a secondary peak. “There’s a delta component, too. Deep sleep, the kind where dreams get… vivid.”
Aisha’s eyes narrowed. “Vivid enough to manifest? That’s a leap, Elena.”
“Maybe not.” Elena tapped the screen, highlighting a harmonic pattern. “These frequencies—they’re resonating with the brain’s natural rhythms. It’s like the music’s rewiring us, amplifying what’s already there.”
Aisha didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the data. Elena knew that look—skepticism warring with curiosity. Aisha had always been the pragmatist, the one who demanded hard evidence over hunches. But the fire in her nightmare, the cracked window, had shaken her. Elena wanted to ask more, to probe that crack in Aisha’s armor, but the lab’s frenetic pace left no room for personal questions.
Victor’s voice cut through the hum. “, Khan, status update!” He stood at the central holo-table, flanked by a GlobalTech exec in a sleek suit and a GSC officer with a stern jaw. The room quieted, all eyes turning to them.
Elena straightened, her heart thudding. “We’ve analyzed the CD’s audio,” she said, projecting the spectral graph onto the main display. “It contains subsonic frequencies—theta and delta ranges—that sync with brainwave patterns associated with dreaming. When played, it induces a state where dreams can… spill into reality.”
The GlobalTech exec, a woman with razor-sharp cheekbones, raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying this music is causing the manifestations? Globally?”
“Not alone,” Aisha interjected, her voice firm. “The uncompressed audio—WAV format, not MP3—preserves these frequencies. MP3 compression strips them out, which is why we didn’t see effects in digital streams. But the CD… it’s potent.”
The GSC officer crossed his arms. “How’s it spreading, then? Not everyone’s got a CD player in 2087.”
Elena hesitated, then said, “It’s not just the CD. The music’s been shared—live performances, bootlegs, maybe even neural implants. Once it’s heard in its raw form, it triggers the effect. And it’s cumulative, building with each exposure.”
The room erupted in murmurs, scientists and officials exchanging glances. Victor raised a hand, silencing them. “You’re sure about this?”
“As sure as we can be without more tests,” Aisha said, her tone clipped. “We need to run controlled experiments—subjects, EEGs, the works. But the data doesn’t lie.”
Victor nodded, his expression grim. “Do it. I want a volunteer test by tonight. And find out everything you can about this Varn guy. If he’s the source, we need him.”
The meeting broke, the lab returning to its frenetic rhythm. Elena and Aisha moved to a testing bay, a sterile chamber with a single chair wired to an EEG array. Aisha began calibrating the equipment, her movements precise but tense. Elena watched her, the unspoken weight of their earlier test hanging between them.
“You okay?” Elena asked, keeping her voice low. “After… you know, the fire?”
Aisha’s hands paused, then resumed. “Fine,” she said, but the word was brittle, like glass about to crack. “Just focus on the test. We can’t afford mistakes.”
Elena wanted to push, to ask what Aisha had seen, but she nodded, turning back to the holo-display. They needed answers, not confessions. She loaded the CD’s audio into the system, isolating the first track—the one that had filled her apartment with cats. The notes played softly through the bay’s speakers, a delicate cascade that made her skin tingle. She shut it off quickly, her pulse racing. It was too easy to lose herself in it.
“We need a volunteer,” Aisha said, breaking the silence. “Someone unaffected, so we can baseline their response.”
“I’ll do it,” Elena said before she could stop herself. The words hung in the air, heavy with intent. Aisha’s eyes widened, but Elena pressed on. “I’ve already been exposed. I know what to expect. And I trust you to pull me out if it goes wrong.”
Aisha’s jaw tightened. “You’re reckless, you know that? But fine. Let’s get you wired up.”
They worked quickly, attaching electrodes to Elena’s scalp, their movements a silent dance of necessity. The chair was cold against her back, the EEG array humming as it synced with her brainwaves. Aisha stood at the controls, her tablet glowing with real-time data. “Ready?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost gentle.
Elena nodded, her fingers gripping the armrests. “Play it.”
The music began, a single note stretching like a thread of light. Elena closed her eyes, letting it pull her under. The meadow returned, vivid and warm, cats tumbling through the grass. But there was something else—a shadow at the edge, a hum that wasn’t music but something deeper, alive. Her heart raced, the line between dream and reality blurring. She saw Pippin, his amber eyes glowing, but his purr grew louder, almost a roar—
“Elena!” Aisha’s voice cut through, sharp and urgent. The music stopped, the world snapping back. Elena gasped, her chest heaving, the EEG array beeping wildly. Aisha was at her side, her hand on Elena’s shoulder. “You okay? Your theta waves spiked like crazy.”
“I’m fine,” Elena said, her voice shaky. She wasn’t fine. The shadow, the roar—it had felt real, too real, like it was trying to break through. She looked at Aisha, whose face was pale, her tablet forgotten. “What did you see?”
Aisha hesitated, then said, “Your vitals went haywire. And… there was a flicker, like something was forming in the room. I stopped it just in time.”
Elena’s blood ran cold. She’d almost manifested again, right here. The music wasn’t just a trigger—it was a catalyst, amplifying dreams into reality. And if it could do that to her, what was it doing to the world?
“We need more data,” Aisha said, her voice steady but strained. “But this is bigger than we thought. We’re not just dealing with brainwaves. We’re dealing with… reality itself.”
Elena nodded, her mind reeling. The cats, Aisha’s fire, the global dosorder—they were all tied to Varn’s music, to those hidden frequencies. But the shadow in her dream, the roar—it hinted at something darker, something they hadn’t yet grasped. As they left the testing bay, the lab’s hum felt like a warning, a reminder that they were running out of time to unlock the secret before it consumed them all.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
