By Emma Spencer, Science & Technology Reporter

At 4625 kHz, there’s a sound. A dull mechanical buzz, steady as death. It’s been humming through the static since the 1970s. No station ID. No music. No ads. Just the buzz. And every now and then, like a voice from the grave, a message cuts through:

“I am 143. Not receiving any response.”

Then the silence. Then the buzz again.

Radio freaks call it The Buzzer, but its official name is UVB-76. For over 40 years, the Russian shortwave station has broadcasted without explanation. Nobody claims it. Nobody explains it. But it never stops. Some say it’s just military communication. Others say it’s a Soviet-era Dead Hand signal—an automatic nuclear retaliation system designed to wipe out the West if Russian leadership is ever killed.

It’s a Cold War ghost. And it might still be armed.

Theories swirl. Some believe it’s connected to Russia’s Perimeter system—a rumored doomsday protocol where if Moscow goes silent, missiles fly anyway. Others think it’s a channel for spies, sleeper agents, or even aliens. In 1997, a voice interrupted the buzz and said the chilling phrase above. Since then, only fragments have emerged: strange, nonsense words like “hryukostyag” and “bezzlobie.”

Still, the buzz drones on.

It’s been tracked. Triangulated. Moved. In 2010 it went dark for 24 hours, then came back—broadcasting from a different site, believed to be near Moscow. Once, someone hijacked the signal and blasted Gangnam Style through it. That happened. But the Buzzer returned. Unbothered. Eternal.

And in the silence between the buzzes, something darker hums.

Apocalypse in Frequency

This ain’t just weird old tech. Some folks hear that buzz and think of static. Others hear a faint kind of thunder. The kind that comes before the storm.

The Bible talks a lot about sounds—trumpets, thunder, voices like rushing waters. One verse in Revelation says:

“And I heard a voice from heaven, as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of a great thunder… and no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth.” — Revelation 14:2-3

A voice like thunder. Like static over water.

Could be coincidence. Could be nothin’. But when you sit with that hum long enough, it starts to feel less like background noise and more like a whisper. A warning. Maybe this ain’t a trumpet—maybe it’s the first drop of rain.

We’re not sayin’ this is prophecy. We don’t know. The Bible even says we can’t know:

“But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.” — Matthew 24:36

Still… Jesus said to watch for signs. And this thing? Whatever it is—it’s strange. It’s steady. And no one has a better explanation.

And where does the Book of Revelation say the final enemy comes from? From the north.

“And shall go out to deceive the nations which are in the four quarters of the earth, Gog and Magog, to gather them together to battle…” — Revelation 20:8

Gog and Magog. The names echo across apocalyptic prophecy—ancient enemies of God. In every major interpretation of biblical end times, Russia is seen as Gog and Magog. The cold northern threat. The one that comes last.

What if that constant signal isn’t just a relic? What if it’s their voice? Their anthem? Their unlearnable song, still playing across the airwaves, waiting for the final order?

It might be military. It might be madness.

But it might be something older. Something we’ve been warned about.

And maybe—just maybe—this isn’t the trumpet. Maybe it’s the first drop of rain.