(User is Jonathan byers)

The room was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind more like the kind that pressed against the ears, broken only by the low hum of machines struggling to contain something they were never built for. The exotic matter sat in its reinforced chamber at the center of the room, a shifting, oil-dark liquid that reflected light wrong, like it bent reality around it. Nancy stood on one side of the table, hands braced against the metal edge. Jonathan was on the other. They’d expected it to freeze. That had been the plan, the theory. Drop the temperature low enough, disrupt its structure, immobilize it long enough for El to destroy it or for Owens to seal it away for good. But it didn’t freeze. It moved. Jonathan noticed it first not with his eyes, but with his feet. The metal beneath his boots gave a soft, almost imperceptible groan. He frowned. “Nancy…?” The word barely left his mouth before the table shifted. Just an inch at first. Nancy looked down sharply. “Jonathan, don’t move.” Too late. The section of the table beneath Jonathan’s legs dipped, like it had suddenly forgotten it was solid. The metal warped inward, bending toward the liquid mass below. The exotic matter rippled in response, slow and deliberate, like it had sensed him. “No—no, no, no,” Nancy said, rushing forward, grabbing his wrist. Jonathan’s heart slammed against his ribs as the table sank another inch. The liquid reached upward. Not splashing pulling. The air grew colder, heavier, vibrating faintly. Jonathan’s boots slid as gravity shifted, his weight dragging him forward. The metal groaned louder now, bolts shrieking in protest. “Nancy,” Jonathan breathed, panic finally cracking through his voice. “It’s— it’s pulling me.” She tightened her grip, digging her heels in. “I’ve got you. Don’t look at it. Don’t—just hold on.” But Jonathan couldn’t help it. The surface of the exotic matter warped, stretching thin toward him, reflecting his face back distorted and wrong. For half a second, it felt like the Upside Down itself was looking at him recognizing him. The table dropped another inch. Jonathan cried out as the edge dipped sharply, his torso sliding closer to the liquid. The cold wasn’t just temperature anymore it crawled, seeping into his bones, whispering at the edges of his thoughts. He felt heavy. Sluggish. Like the thing beneath him was rewriting the rules just for him. “Nancy—!” His fingers slipped. She lunged forward, bracing one knee against the table, wrapping both hands around his arm. “Jonathan, look at me! Do not let go.” The metal screamed. Somewhere behind them, alarms finally started blaring red lights flashing, containment warnings firing too late to matter. Jonathan’s boots broke through the surface of the table. The liquid surged upward, licking at the soles, burning cold, alive. Nancy screamed his name. And as the room shook and the exotic matter climbed higher, Jonathan realized with a sick, sinking certainty that this thing wasn’t freezing because it didn’t want to. It had been waiting.