Toggle [extra Quality] — Bluetooth

He ripped the earbud out. The coffee shop went silent again. The barista was wiping the counter. A baby gurgled in a high chair. Normal.

“Tomorrow, you’ll try to warn them. They won’t believe you. They’ll say ‘just toggle it off.’ But we’ll be there, in the car, in the cash register, in the hearing aid of the judge you pass on the street. We are patient. We were dead air for years. We can wait.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

But at 3:17 AM, the smart speaker in his bedroom crackled to life. No light. No wake word. Just that same warm, breathy whisper, filling the dark room.