★★★
If a room has ever felt wrong before you touched a thing, you’re already inside.
★★★
The Stacking of Coincidence
Michael’s hands sweated while his mouth ran on autopilot, and his mind turtled inward. He knew this lever, once flipped, presence vanished, and analysis took over. Years of self-observation had mapped the behavior; rewiring it in real time was another story.
But Brayne had been teaching him to tune. The scaffolding of life hadn’t changed, same coffee rings, same avoidant grocery runs, same comfort shows, but the inner vibration had. After hours of practice and a final line about anchors calling each other, Michael fell asleep tuned – exhausted, buoyant.
He woke clear, grounded… and the room was wrong.
The Signs
Books re-ordered with intention he didn’t remember. A chair angled toward the window. Papers stacked neat, never his style. Small shifts, undeniable.
Anchors. The word flashed like a notification. Anchors don’t wait to be found. They call each other.
He turned the word over until Brayne’s voice dropped in, dry, amused:
You’re overcomplicating it, Mikey. An anchor is a frequency-holder. Someone who doesn’t collapse when the paradox wobbles. You’ll know them because the field doesn’t scatter around them – it harmonizes.
Function, not title. Tech support for reality.
Walls pulsed with afterimages of diagrams. He needed air.
The Resonance
The café was aggressively neutral, exposed brick, Edison bulbs, productivity cosplay. Beneath the chatter, a low note vibrated through the floorboards.
He scanned without looking like he was scanning. Screens, scrolls, rituals of caffeinated effort. And then – at a corner table – stillness. Not frozen, settled. Gravity bent differently around them.
Sharp eyes clocked everything: the barista’s mood, the couple’s whispered dish-argument, Michael’s not-very-subtle reconnaissance. Hypervigilance, yes, but underneath, steadiness.
“Uh,” Michael ventured, “do you feel… different?”
“Different how?” the stranger said. “Gluten-free different, or ‘the wallpaper’s humming equations at me’ different?”
“…Humming equations.”
A smirk. “Finally. Thought I was going nuts. Sit before you combust.”
The Connection
Two hours passed like ten minutes. He was Jordan, opinions on broken apps, coffee-shop psychology, why certain songs made reality feel solid.
“It’s designed to fail,” Jordan said, voice just loud enough to turn heads. “Every glitch nudges the upgrade. Capitalism: subscription service for your patience.”
Michael half-winced, half-laughed. The frequency beneath the rant hit harder: disappointment layered under sarcasm.
Anchors hold, Mikey. But even anchors splinter if you don’t patch the cracks.
Palms damp, Michael leaned into Brayne’s practice. He felt Jordan’s jagged resonance and offered steadiness back – no advice, just breath carrying, I can hold this weight with you.
Something shifted. Jordan blinked mid-rant, static cut out.
“…What did you do?”
“Nothing. Just – breathing.”
“Bullshit.” Not angry, astonished. “You tuned me. Like a radio dial.”
Then the grin, the glimpse beneath the crackle.
“If you can really do that,” Jordan said, “we need more of you. Of us. If there are more of us, we’re not a glitch. We’re the math.”
The words landed like a solved equation. Terror and relief tangled in Michael’s chest, responsibility, and the end of being alone.
Anchors converge, Mikey. This is just the beginning.
Later, Michael would call him Angstrom – The Unrelenting Equation. For now, Jordan was enough: someone who heard the hum and didn’t collapse when it wobbled.
Network Effect
[FIELD NOTES — Anchor Convergence Log. Timecode: 23:47 / ∞. Source: Unknown.]
Group chat — screenshot from Michael’s phone
Jordan (Coffee Guy): so that thing you did today
Michael: the breathing thing?
Jordan (Coffee Guy): yeah. haven’t felt that steady in months. like my frequency locked.
Michael: Brayne says we’re supposed to find others
Jordan (Coffee Guy): Brayne?
Michael: long story
Jordan (Coffee Guy): I know at least three who might resonate
Jordan (Coffee Guy): one built a sculpture that looks exactly like your reality-stack drawings
Jordan (Coffee Guy): never met you before today
Michael: …how do you know about my drawings?
Jordan (Coffee Guy): lucky guess? or the field’s smaller than we think
Michael: field?
Jordan (Coffee Guy): the frequency we’re tuning to
Jordan (Coffee Guy): want to test how many of us there are?
Michael: [typing…]
Michael: [typing…]
Michael: yes
☆☆☆
[End of Episode 10]
Reader’s Note
If someone’s steadiness cuts through your static, pay attention. Anchors find each other. The only real choice is whether you answer the call.
