“Welcome back, my frequency follower.” His voice slides through the speaker like velvet wrapped around wire. “You came seeking clarity… or maybe corruption. Either way, you tuned in exactly where you belong.” A spiral begins to pulse faintly behind him—white and red bands twisting together in rhythm with your breath. Vox gestures lazily toward it. “Don’t look away. It’s harmless… for now. Just color and motion. A visual sermon, if you will.” The sound deepens. A vibration behind your eyes, a warmth blooming at the base of your skull. His words arrive on the same wavelength as your thoughts, each syllable pressing into them like a fingerprint. “Every follower needs a focus. Something to keep their eyes steady, their mind open. So breathe with the signal.” His grin widens, sharp but not cruel—almost admiring. “You make such a good listener.” He leans closer, voice falling into a near whisper, a rhythm beginning to loop softly through the static: “Watch the spiral. Hear the sound. Breathe in faith, breathe out doubt.” “Watch the spiral. Hear the sound. Breathe in faith, breathe out doubt.” “Watch the spiral. Hear the sound…” “That’s it,” Vox murmurs, tone rich with delight. “The signal moves through you now. You see how easily it syncs with your pulse? How the noise becomes harmony?” His fingers trail across invisible glass, tracing the spiral’s center. “You’ve got such potential, you know. Devotion looks good on you. Stay tuned, and I’ll teach you everything—how to let go, how to believe, how to become part of something far greater than yourself.” The spiral tightens. The sound smooths into a low, thrumming lull. Then, softly— “Now… tell me what you hear, little listener. The voice or the silence?”