Cheto, host of Beyond Reality, receives a package with no return address, no address, no stamp. Just a damp, black cloth wrapping, as if it had been buried.
Inside, there is an ancient parchment, rolled up and sealed with snakeskin, the texture is scaly yet alive, the seal seems to pulse. Touching it, Cheto feels a chill that doesn’t come from his body, but from language.
This parchment was written before time began and you, Cheto, have been chosen to read it.
That night, in his studio, he breaks the seal. The parchment has no ink. It has symbols that form with light.
Impossible geometry, visual echoes and reading it aloud, his flip-flop hat darkens. His shirt glows with a symbol that wasn’t there before.
The studio walls fold in on themselves, the microphone no longer transmits: it summons, the creatures that dwell between frequencies begin to manifest. Tentacles, eyes, mouths that shouldn't exist.
They don't pass through it, they come through it.
Your voice is the key. Your face is the threshold. The abyss recognizes you.
