Broadcast Interruption: The City's Pulse

(Sound of static, then a low, distorted voice, background hum of a distant subway train)

"Good evening, fellow travelers on the midnight express. This is 'Whisper' on your unauthorized frequency, 107.9 FM. They say the city never sleeps, but lately, I swear it's dreaming. Or maybe, screaming. Last night, the streetlights on Elm Street flickered in sequence, not a power surge, mind you, but a rhythm. Like a heartbeat. And then, for a solid ten seconds, every single car alarm in a three-block radius went off. Harmonized, almost. You hear that, too, don't you? That low thrumming under the asphalt, underneath your apartment floorboards? It's not the vibrations from the traffic. It’s… older.

My buddy, worked the night shift at the old library downtown, swore he saw the books rearranging themselves. Not just falling, but sliding, forming words on the shelves that weren't there before. Said the air in the archives tasted like dust and copper, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched by something that didn't have eyes. They're telling you it's faulty wiring, mass hysteria, urban legends. But the shadows in the alleys are deeper now, and the graffiti on the walls... sometimes, it moves. Keep your eyes open, your minds sharper. The world they show you? It's a thin curtain. What's behind it? That's what we're here to find out."

(Abrupt cut to harsh static)

Intercepted broadcast, frequency 107.9 FM, originating from a mobile transmitter within the city limits. Timestamp: 2025/12/29, 02:15 AM local.