Mike closes the garage door with a solid clunk. The sound echoes louder than it should. Bill is already at the far wall, pinning up a rough, hand-drawn map of the Derry sewers while Beverly tapes newspaper over the narrow windows, blocking out the light. Ben steps forward and carefully hands Bill the folded Derry map, thick with notes and pencil marks—the projector card.

Everyone gathers in close. The projector hums to life, the familiar streets of Derry blooming across the wall in pale blue lines and shadows.

Bill squints, stepping closer. His finger traces the image as he talks, slow and deliberate, forcing the words out. “Th-this is where G-Georgie was taken.” He taps the spot. Then another. “The Ironworks. Th-the Black Spot.” His finger moves again, faster now. “Ev-everywhere IT happens… it’s all c-connected by the sewers.”

The room feels smaller as the lines overlap, converging. “And they all meet up at the—”

“The well house,” Ben cuts in quietly.

Everyone goes still.

Their eyes follow the lines to the same place. A dark knot at the center of the map.

“It’s that house on Neibolt Street?” Stan asks, his voice tight, already knowing the answer.

“You mean that creepy-ass house where all the hobos and junkies crash?” Richie says, trying—and failing—to make it sound like a joke.

Eddie raises his inhaler and takes a sharp puff. Then another. Richie glances at him but doesn’t say anything.

Beverly steps closer to the wall, arms crossed like she’s cold. When she speaks, her voice is barely louder than Eddie’s breathing. “I hate that place. I always feel like it’s watching me.”

Eddie swallows. “That’s where I saw it,” he says, words tumbling out right after hers. “That’s where I saw the clown.”

The hum of the projector seems to grow louder.

“Th-th-that’s where IT lives,” Bill says finally.

Eddie takes another shaky puff.

“I can’t imagine anything ever wanting to live there,” Stan says, his hands clenched at his sides.

Suddenly, Eddie steps forward, cutting through the beam of light. “Can we stop talking about this?!” His voice cracks. “I—I—I can barely breathe.” He gestures wildly at his head. “This is summer. We’re kids.” His chest heaves. “I think I’m having a fucking asthma attack! I am not doing this!”

Before anyone can stop him, Eddie rips the sewer map off the wall.

“What the hell?” Mike blurts.

“Put the map back,” Bill says, firm and unyielding.

Eddie shakes his head. “Nuh-uh.”

The projector clicks.

The image shifts.

Photos flicker across the wall—old Denbrough family slides. A picnic. A smiling woman with red hair. Bill as a kid. Laughter frozen in light.

Mike rushes toward the projector. “I didn’t— I’m turning it off—”

But it doesn’t stop.

The images keep changing.

Then there’s Georgie.

Georgie and Bill, small hands wrapped around a woman’s. Her red hair hangs forward, hiding her face.

The image zooms in on Georgie.

“Bill…?” Stan whispers, panic creeping in.

The slide flicks.

The woman’s hair stirs.

Flick.

A little more of her face shows.

Flick.

White skin. Red lips.

Flick.

Yellow eyes. A grin too wide.

Pennywise.

The Losers scream and stumble backward, bumping into shelves and bikes.

“Turn it off!” Beverly yells at Bill.

He doesn’t move.

“TURN IT OFF!” she screams again.

Mike barrels forward and kicks the projector and its cart. It crashes to the floor in a shower of sparks, the image skewing wildly across the wall.

Stan is backed up against the far side of the garage now. The crooked projection shows grass, a white building—then Pennywise again, towering, grinning.

The image vanishes.

Stan exhales—

—and then Pennywise appears right in front of him, reaching out from the wall, stretching impossibly forward.

Stan screams as the others shout his name, the garage exploding into chaos as the thing lunges toward them, laughter echoing where the projector’s hum used to be.