24″The footage crackles, handheld and raw. A flashlight beam cuts through heavy fog in the woods.
Minseo’s voice, calm and focused, speaks just above a whisper: If this is real—if the lights follow patterns—then we’re not just seeing echoes. We’re seeing intent.
There’s a pause. The camera jolts slightly as if she’s turning.
To whoever finds this: I didn’t run. I listened. And if they let me go, it’s because they wanted you next.
The screen cuts to black.
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