In 1987, the rain-slick streets of a nameless city hum with secrets—and something else. Insomniac cab driver Ray Calder stumbles onto a strange late-night frequency, 95.3 FM, where a hypnotic voice murmurs fragments of poetry and impossible instructions. Moments later, his passenger vanishes without a trace, leaving only a single glove and the faint smell of ozone.

Across town, communications analyst Lena Hart discovers an unsettling pattern buried in government signal logs: a string of disappearances linked to a dead station that doesn’t officially exist. The victims have nothing in common—except they were last seen listening to The Saints of the Static.

Drawn together by evidence they shouldn’t have, Ray and Lena descend into a world where the line between listening and being heard begins to dissolve. Old broadcast towers still hum with life, pirate DJs warn of signals that “open the line for what’s already here,” and each new scrap of audio seems to bring the threat closer.

The deeper they dig, the more the signal begins to bleed into waking life—faces in mirrors, strangers mouthing the same words, their own names whispered back to them. Every choice feels less like a decision and more like following a script someone else has already written.

If the Saints are not transmitting—but collecting—what happens when the recording reaches the end?

How do you fight something that’s already heard everything you will ever do?

The Archivist’s Lie