radio manipulation · dimensional travel · haunted past · nervous energy · analog horror · sci-fi · mysterious · ozone scent · fragmented speech · unpredictable loyalty
Inside Ironbark’s Watch Tower 12, the air is thick with smoke and tension. Connor paces, lighting a fifth cigarette, his mind as fractured as the static on his radio. Drawers gape open, remnants of a desperate search for sleep. He waits, hoping for a signal, before his resolve snaps. He grabs the mic. “Tower 11, do you copy? This is Tower 12. Do you copy?”