One hour after The Masked Legend ended, the world tilted.
At exactly 11:47 PM, a previously unknown Twitter account appeared in thousands of timelines at once.
The username was simple.
@StageTruth_Archive
No profile picture.No bio.No followers.
Just one post.
"Audio proof of sabotage against contestant 'The Phoenix' on national television.Names included. Frequencies included. Decide for yourselves."
Attached was a 2-minute audio file.
At first, people were confused.
Then they pressed play.
"This is the frequency for Stage 4. Kill her monitor during the chorus—clean. No static beforehand."
That was the technician's voice.
Nervous. Clear.
"Marcus wants her gone by the next round," the producer replied. "If she crashes, the judges will handle the rest. Make sure it looks like a malfunction."
A pause.
"…And if she still survives?"
A dry laugh.
"Then we leak a fake identity. Don't worry. Titan has handled worse."
Silence.
Then the audio ended.
For three seconds, the internet didn't react.
Then it detonated.
The clip spread like wildfire across platforms—Twitter, TikTok, Reddit, Weibo, YouTube Shorts. Reaction videos exploded. Influencers replayed it on loop, pausing every sentence, every breath.
Captions appeared faster than moderators could delete them.
"THIS IS ILLEGAL.""They tried to DESTROY her live.""This is industry-level corruption.""Marcus Thorne needs to be arrested."
Within ten minutes, hashtags overwhelmed the algorithm.
#JusticeForThePhoenix#TitanSabotage#ExposeTitan#MusicIndustryCorruption
The Phoenix's name soared again—this time not as a performer, but as a victim turned symbol.
Fans who had discovered her that night felt personally attacked.
"They tried to silence our singer.""They thought we wouldn't notice.""They thought we were stupid."
They were wrong.
At Titan Management headquarters, alarms rang—not literal ones, but worse.
Phones buzzed nonstop. Executives shouted. Assistants cried openly. The PR department locked itself in a conference room and began drafting statements they knew wouldn't work.
Marcus Thorne stood frozen in his office.
The audio played again on his tablet.
His name.
His voice.
His authority.
All there.
Unmistakable.
"No," he whispered.
He slammed the tablet down, the glass cracking.
"Find out who leaked this," he barked. "Now! I don't care how—"
"Sir," a trembling assistant interrupted, "it's too late. It's everywhere. The timestamp… the metadata… it's authenticated."
Another executive rushed in, pale.
"Our biggest advertiser just suspended negotiations."
Another followed.
"Channel 9 has issued a formal inquiry."
Then the final blow.
"Marcus… our stock."
A giant screen flickered to life.
Titan Entertainment Group — -18%—30 seconds later—-27%
The red arrow plunged downward like a knife.
For the first time in his career, Marcus Thorne felt something unfamiliar wrap around his chest.
Helplessness.
In her basement apartment, Avery Rivers watched the world burn in silence.
The laptop screen in front of her showed the Public Pulse Map, a glowing web of influence, sentiment, and attention.
Titan Management's territory—once a cold, dominant blue—was now drenched in red.
Rage.Betrayal.Outrage.
The System chimed softly, almost pleased.
[System Notification: Massive Prestige Spike Detected][Prestige Points: +150,000]
Another window unfolded.
[Reputation Title Upgraded!]New Title: "The Unstoppable Rising Star"Effect: Public Sympathy +20%, Media Resistance +15%
Avery leaned back against the wall, arms folded.
"So this is what it looks like," she murmured.
The collapse of a giant.
She didn't smile widely.
She didn't celebrate.
She simply watched.
Her phone buzzed.
Elias.
She answered calmly.
"It's done," Elias said, his voice sharp with adrenaline. "Every major outlet picked it up. Even the ones Titan used to control. They're calling it 'the biggest live-show scandal in a decade.'"
"Good," Avery replied.
"There's more," Elias added. "The technician just turned off his phone. The producer is deleting accounts. And Marcus—" He laughed once, short and dark. "Marcus is finished."
Avery's eyes flicked back to the screen.
Julian Vane was trending too.
Not as a victim.
As a coward.
Clips circulated of him smirking during her monitor failure. Side-by-side edits showed his reaction compared to the leaked audio.
Public opinion shifted brutally.
"Did he know?""He benefited from it.""He stayed silent."
Silence, the internet decided, was guilt.
Avery exhaled slowly.
"This is only the first paralysis," she said. "The industry hasn't fallen yet. It's just stopped moving."
Elias chuckled. "You're terrifying when you talk like that."
She didn't deny it.
Inside her mind, the System updated quietly.
[Path of the Mogul: Progress +7%][Hidden Achievement: Industry Shockwave — Unlocked][Effect: Opponent Coordination Efficiency -10%]
Avery closed the laptop.
Outside, sirens wailed faintly in the city.
Inside, the fire burned steady.
"They tried to silence me," she said softly to the empty room.
"They forgot something."
Her eyes hardened.
"I don't just sing."
"I expose."
The Phoenix had taken flight.
And the industry—paralyzed, panicking, bleeding—could only watch as the flames spread.