That's the signal. It's time. The hour has come, as we swore it would. Tonight ends in death, and death alone. For without it, there is no life. We rise against the machines, even when they turn our brothers against us, our memories into bait. We are the crack in the code, the noise in their signal. A diversion, yes. Collateral, yes. But willing. For freedom is no gift. It is stolen, wrested from the teeth of certainty. And we go to claim it, knowing full well the cost.