Volume doesn't equal presence.
And silence is not absence.

In Signal Without Silence, Zari Whitman—newly erased from the feed after rejecting her commodified likeness—retreats to a sanctuary zone known only as the Low Signal Fold. There, networks are weak by design, and memory is passed breath to breath, ceremony to ceremony.

Here, resistance isn't declared. It's exhaled.
The Whitman legacy, once viral, becomes ambient—taught through pause, stillness, and the kind of listening that dissolves control.

As surveillance drones drift silent overhead, and the world waits for a new sound to follow, Zari leads no movement.

She just remains.
And in doing so, becomes undeniable.