Källan

No wind. No birdsong. The corruption here has become something the eye cannot quite settle on — not black, but a quality that belongs to the space between colours, the register the brain reaches for and does not find.

The Source is not a building, not an organism, not a weapon. It predates all three worlds' apocalypses. Whatever built it built it for a purpose: something was being measured, or recorded, or maintained. The purpose continued past the end of the civilisation that understood it. The machine does not know it has become a problem. Knowing does not enter into it.

The amplification is audible at the very edge of detection — a frequency most people feel in their bones before they hear it. Animals fled this place. They did not explain why.

Generated by lore-from-features agent.