The summer sky had dimmed into deep hues of purple as Martin leaned back on his deck, savoring the quiet expanse of his isolated yard. The world around him was peaceful, untouched by the clamor of modern life. His nearest neighbor was miles away, and though the town shimmered faintly on the horizon most nights, tonight it lay in unsettling darkness.

Martin squinted toward the town, its usual glittering lights replaced by an eerie void. His brow furrowed. Maybe a power outage? Curious, he pulled out his phone and texted his friend Kevin, who lived in town.

Martin: “Hey, what’s up with the blackout? Everything okay?”

The reply came almost instantly:

Kevin: “Hi.”

Martin frowned. Strange. Kevin wasn’t one for cryptic small talk.

Martin: “No, seriously. What’s going on with the electricity?”

Kevin: “We are one.”

A chill crept up Martin’s spine. The words felt rehearsed, wrong. He typed another message, fingers tapping nervously on the screen.

Martin: “Kevin, are you messing with me? What’s going on?”

There was a long pause before Kevin’s final reply came:

Kevin: “See you soon.”

Martin’s heart skipped. The phrase echoed ominously in his mind.

Trying to shake off the unease, he decided to text Lisa, a friend in a different town entirely.

Martin: “Hey Lisa, random question. Did you get those concert tickets?”

A notification pinged almost immediately.

Lisa: “Hi.”

Martin blinked.

Martin: “What? No, I asked about the tickets.”

Lisa: “We are one.”

The air around him felt colder somehow.

Martin: “This isn’t funny, Lisa. Are you okay?”

A moment later, the same reply appeared:

Lisa: “See you soon.”

Martin’s hands trembled as he stared at the screen. Both friends had answered identically, word for word, despite completely different conversations. His instincts screamed that something was horribly wrong. He thought about calling someone — anyone — but dread clung to him like a fog.

He silenced his phone, tossed it onto the bedside table, and forced himself to sleep, convincing himself it was some bizarre coincidence or prank.

Morning arrived in muted hues of orange and gold. The birds chirped, indifferent to the dread that lingered in Martin’s chest. Reluctantly, he reached for his phone, dread tightening his throat as he turned the sound back on.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Dozens of notifications flooded his screen, each from a different contact. Kevin. Lisa. His mother. His boss. His old college roommate.

Every message was identical:

“Hi.”
“We are one.”
“See you soon.”

The messages filled his inbox like a relentless drumbeat, pounding against his sanity.

And then his phone vibrated one last time. One new message from an unknown number.

“See us soon.”

With shaking hands, Martin rose from the bed and pulled back the curtain.

They were standing there. Rows upon rows of people — Kevin, Lisa, faces both familiar and strange — all motionless, staring up at his house with vacant, glassy eyes.

And as one, they raised their hands and waved.

Smiling.

Waiting.

Slowly they spoke in unison.
“Hi….. We are one…… See you soon……..”