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Then, three weeks ago, the anomaly appeared.

Elara sat in the dark, her breath shallow. She looked at her own observation window. The moon was rising over the heather. Normal. Safe. 4a9b0327-e5aa-b3dd-d4cd-5e1ff8430c2d

For six months, she had been alone. Not metaphorically. She was the sole scientist at the Jodrell Deep-Space Listening Post, a decommissioned radio telescope facility buried in the moors of northern England. Her mission was to listen for echoes—not from alien civilizations, but from the universe’s infancy: the cosmic microwave background radiation. The work was tedious, the silence deafening. Then, three weeks ago, the anomaly appeared