Victor froze. In the silence of the basement, he began to hear it—a low, rhythmic vibration beneath the floorboards, matching the steady beat of his own heart.

The last page was stained with a dark, dried substance. There were no words, only a hand-drawn map of a specific coordinate in the Carpathian Mountains and a single, chilling sentence scrawled in the margin:

"Subjects report seeing 'The Weaver.' It’s not a ghost; it’s a glitch in the visual cortex caused by the signal."