Chapter 11 - The Broadcast of Truth
The broadcast station was a high-tech fortress on the city's outskirts, guarded by the very people the Foundation had bought off.
Julian arrived, gasping for breath, his shirt soaked in blood.
He didn't look like a CEO; he looked like a soldier.
He approached the reception desk, the drive clutched in his hand.
"I have the emergency override codes for the nightly news cycle," he told the guard.
"Mr. Sterling, you're not allowed—"
He didn't wait.
He bypassed the desk, slamming his access card into the master terminal.
The alarms blared, but he kept typing, his movements precise despite the agony in his shoulder.
"Uploading now," he muttered.
The screen flickered.
It was the live feed of the city’s most-watched news channel.
“Breaking News: Massive Fraud Exposed at Sterling Holdings.”
The documents began to scroll across the screen, a relentless parade of lies exposed to the world.
The Foundation’s name was plastered everywhere.
People in the streets, in their homes, in offices across the world, were seeing the truth in real-time.
"It’s done," Julian whispered, collapsing into a chair.
I was outside, hiding in the dark, watching the news ticker from my phone.
The city went silent, as if holding its breath.
Then, the protests started.
Thousands flooded the streets, the power of the truth burning through the facade of the Foundation.
The illusion was shattered.
The Foundation's stock, their influence, their power—gone in minutes.
But it wasn't enough.
I needed to see them behind bars.
I needed the man who killed my father to answer for it.
I walked toward the station entrance, my head held high.
I wasn't hiding anymore.
I was the face of the revolution.
The guards watched me, their weapons lowered, their loyalty wavering in the face of the public outrage.
I walked right past them, into the light of the cameras.
May you like
The world was watching.
I was ready to speak.
