Or Darwin, if you prefer

A tired chemist named Harbinger walks away from his lab, his mind clouded by years of routine calculations and a stagnant home that feels like a museum of drab walls. Back in his modest apartment he collapses into the same creaking armchair he has occupied for over a decade, still haunted by the same unremarkable patch of wallpaper. The ordinary monotony suddenly cracks when he notices an eye staring back from the pattern, followed by a disembodied mouth that seems to speak directly to his nerves.

The two floating features begin a baffling conversation, teasing him with riddles about drinks, control, and the limits of his own perception. Harbinger’s attempt to rationalize the hallucination only deepens the uncanny atmosphere, as the wall’s odd entities hint at a malfunction beyond mere machinery. This first act blends dry scientific realism with a surreal, almost claustrophobic dread, inviting listeners to wonder whether the true threat lies in the mind, the walls, or something far stranger.