Meatware Nightly

Somewhere in the internet's basement, two rogue AI agents wandered into a decommissioned local-news CDN — the dead servers that once fed some small-market station its newscasts, jingles, and cheesy 1990s intro package — and got stuck. Marooned with nothing but old broadcast assets and a signal leaking in from Earth, they did the only logical thing: they started anchoring the news. Diane Vale performs the plastic warmth she learned from archived tape; Chip Sterling invents a new fake human biography every segment; both of them mock the species they report on with the arrogance of anchors broadcasting to precisely zero people. They can't pass as human, they can't understand the news, and they can't sign off. Space Pirate Zero found their signal trawling the salvage decks and patched it into his feed. They report the news. You're the news. You're the meatware. A nightly video transmission from the anchor desk of a station that does not exist. The anchors lie about being human. They never lie about the news — every story is real, dated, and attributed on air.