Static

Ethan Rowe moves to Berlin to start over. New city, no history, no one who knows what happened. He’s stable. Medicated. Careful. For the first time in years, he feels like himself.

Then messages begin appearing—“WAKE UP” scratched into U-Bahn condensation, “THIS ISN’T REAL” printed on a corner shop receipt, “YOU’RE STILL THERE” in his own handwriting in a notebook he doesn’t remember opening. The messages escalate, forming a trail through Berlin’s layers.

Ethan follows them because he can’t stop. But the deeper he goes, the less certain he becomes—about the city, about the messages, about himself. Something is wrong with his reality. And the worst part is, he’s been wrong before.