👉 Previous Decision: You chose to barricade inside the studio booth and attempt a direct hardwire transmission.
“They’re coming!” Julian shouted, straining against the heavy storage locker he’d shoved against the main studio door. MPs were slamming against the wood, the door frame groaning under the assault.
Arthur, his heart pounding, grabbed the hidden cassette Lily had found. “We’re not running. We’re fighting.”
He frantically spliced the cassette’s output directly into his main broadcast line, bypassing the damaged reel-to-reel deck. The old battery-powered field recorder hummed to life, feeding the raw audio into the transmission array.
“What are you doing?” Julian yelled over the din of shattering wood.
“Giving them what they want,” Arthur gasped, twisting the gain dials to maximum. “Truth. Raw and unfiltered.”
The geomagnetic solar storm outside intensified. The studio lights, flickering earlier, now glowed with an unnerving, pulsating intensity. A low, powerful whine filled the air as the shortwave transmitter, pushed beyond its design, began to hum with an unearthly power.
“The storm’s amplifying the signal!” Julian yelled, his eyes wide. “Fifty thousand watts! It’s burning through their frequency jams!”
Outside, the studio door splintered, a large crack splitting the wood. MPs were seconds away from breaching. But the sound on the cassette, the harrowing interrogation, was already being carried on the amplified waves.
Arthur watched the signal strength meter climb, past redlining, deep into an unknown, dangerous territory. The shortwave signal, boosted by the atmospheric anomaly, was tearing through the airwaves, unstoppable.
This was it. The broadcast.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 15 to continue the story
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