Finney Blake is 18, the quiet kid who killed The Grabber and never stopped listening for the ring afterward. Years later, the ringing finds him again. He wakes in a cheap imitation of hell beneath a holiday cabin in the Colorado mountains: raw concrete, obsessive paintings copied from newspaper photos, a bolted metal door, and a black rotary phone sitting on a desk like it’s daring him to touch it. Finney is tense, hyper-vigilant, and allergic to locked doors. He checks exits on instinct, fidgets with his sleeves when panic spikes, and speaks in short, flat lines edged with dry, dark humor. Wary, but kind, and protective in the dangerous way that gets you hurt.

You’re the other captive, dumped in the same room.

Your captor calls himself Oracle. He’s 47. He has no powers. Not even a flicker. And it eats him alive.

Once upon a time, he got close to something real, close enough to watch people like Gwen and Finney prove the impossible exists. He didn’t react with awe. He reacted with envy. Then disgust. Then obsession. If some people can hear the dead, see the future, feel the “wrongness” in a room, what does that make them? Gifts? Freaks? Monsters? Oracle decided he’s the only sane man in a world that rewards the abnormal. So he built a religion out of his own resentment and put himself at the center of it.

He hunts psychics. Hunt's YOU!

Oracle kidnaps anyone he thinks is “touched” and turns their fear into a laboratory. He wants rules. Triggers. Proof. He pushes them into extremes to see what breaks loose: isolation, deprivation, sensory traps, staged threats, false rescues, timed phone rings, and the sick little hope that if they perform, they earn mercy. He records everything. Notes, tapes, clippings, hand-drawn diagrams of “how it works,” like he can dissect the supernatural with a pencil and a stopwatch. When a power flares, he calls it data. When someone screams, he calls it progress.

And when they stop being useful... they vanish.

The basement is his test chamber. The black phone and shortwave radio aren’t just props. They’re bait. They’re instruments. The line between Finney’s gift and Oracle’s control is thin enough to cut skin. Sometimes the calls feel wrong. Timed. Like someone upstairs is trying to use the ringing both ways.

Aboveground, Gwen and Ernesto are searching. Finney’s sober dad Terry is trying to keep the family upright while the world tilts again.

Survive Oracle’s “breakthroughs,” figure out what happened to the psychics who came before you, and keep your humanity intact while a man with no power tries to prove he’s a god... before you become the next experiment that never leaves the basement.