A 4 track story EP:
1. She Landed (0:00)
2. The Room (4:50)
3. I'm Inside It (9:26)
4. The Radio Rabbit Hole (14:44)
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The radio had always been a background thing. Soft, steady and forgettable. It sat on the windowsill of Nyx’s room, its plastic casing yellowed with time, humming out the same kind of late-night lo-fi beats that blurred one hour into the next. Rain tapped lightly against the glass. Homework lay unfinished on her desk. The world felt paused. Nyx lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, listening. There was something different about tonight’s song. It wasn’t louder. It wasn’t faster. But it felt deeper. The soft crackle of vinyl sounded almost alive, like it was breathing between notes. A piano loop drifted in, slow and gentle, wrapped in a warm hiss. Then came the faintest sound like distant chatter, muffled laughter, something just out of reach. Nyx sat up. “Was that always there?” She turned the volume knob. The song didn’t get louder it got closer. The room seemed to soften around the edges. The shadows blurred. The rain against the window slowed each droplet stretching into a long shimmering line. The music seeped into everything. Her desk. Her walls. Her thoughts. Nyx stood, drawn toward the radio. The sound wasn’t coming from it any more, it was coming through it. The speaker pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat behind the mesh.....She reached out.

The moment her fingers touched it the world tilted. Not violently. Not suddenly. Just gently slipping, like stepping onto an escalator she hadn’t noticed moving. The floor dissolved beneath her feet. And she fell but not down. She drifted. Through static. Through warm, golden light. Through fragments of sound that brushed past her like wind, soft drum taps, distant chords, and the faint echo of someone humming a tune that never quite resolved. Then she landed. Not hard. Just a quiet, weightless settling. Nyx blinked. She was standing in a small city at dusk. Everything looked hand-drawn, like an animated loop. Buildings leaned slightly, their windows glowing amber. A train passed in the distance, endlessly circling, never arriving. Street lights flickered softly, casting halos instead of beams. The sky was a muted purple, painted with slow-moving clouds that repeated their path over and over.

And the music...It was everywhere. Not just in the air, but in the ground beneath her feet, in the sway of the power lines, in the rhythm of passing footsteps that weren’t quite attached to anyone. Nyx took a step forward. A girl sat on a rooftop nearby, sketching in a notebook. Her movements looped every few seconds..draw, pause, glance at the sky, repeat. “Hey!” Nyx called. No response. She tried again, louder. “Can you hear me?” The girl didn’t react. Nyx climbed the fire escape, heart racing. When she reached the top, she stood right in front of her. Nothing. It was like she wasn’t there. Nyx looked around. Everything moved in soft, repeating patterns. A cat stretched on a windowsill, over and over. A cup of tea steamed but never cooled. The train kept passing, endlessly. “This is… the song,” Nyx whispered. She turned slowly, realization dawning. “I’m inside it.” The music swelled slightly, as if in response. For a moment, panic flickered in her chest. She ran to the edge of the rooftop, looking for something, anything different. But every street led into another loop. Every sound folded back into itself. Then she noticed something strange. Near the edge of the sky where the purple faded into a pale glow there was a gap. A place where the loop didn’t quite connect. The music stuttered there. Just barely. Nyx took a breath. “Okay,” she said to herself. “That’s… probably the way out.” She climbed down, weaving through repeating pedestrians and looping alleyways. The closer she got, the more the music distorted, not unpleasantly, but like a record being gently nudged off track. The gap shimmered. The piano loop slowed. The crackle grew louder. Nyx hesitated. The city behind her was calm. Predictable. Safe in its repetition. Out there...she didn’t know. But the thought of staying, of becoming just another loop in the song, made her chest tighten. So she ran. Straight toward the break in the sky. The moment she crossed it, everything unravelled. Sound stretched into silence. Light folded inward. And then she was back. On her bedroom floor.

The radio sat quietly on the windowsill, the song ending with a soft click. The rain tapped normally against the glass again. The world felt solid, sharp, real. Nyx lay there, breathing hard. For a long moment, she didn’t move. Then, slowly, she got up and walked to the radio.Her hand hovered over it. She hesitated. Then she turned it off. The room fell silent. But as she climbed back into bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, just beneath the quiet...the music was still playing.
Waiting.
Looping.
And maybe...
Listening.