Chapter 559 - 263: Echo Chamber
A standalone house in the suburbs of Cumberland County, Pennsylvania.
At seven in the evening, Hank Norman had just finished his day’s work.
He sat on a sagging old sofa, a can of cold beer in his hand.
A replay of a football game was on the TV in front of him, but he wasn’t watching.
His eyes were glued to the cracked screen of the phone in his hand.
His TikTok news feed scrolled by under his thumb.
The information wasn’t particularly complex.
Hank’s screen was filled with nothing but short videos and articles with bold, red text, all set to ominous background music.
It was a world tailor-made for him by the algorithm.
A video popped up. The title read: *Exclusive Exposé: Washington’s New Healthcare Bill is Actually a Sell-Off Agreement*.
Onscreen, a masked man calling himself a member of the "Patriot Front" held a blurry copy of a document up to the camera.
"Brothers, wake up."
The masked man lowered his voice, his tone urgent.
"You think that bill is about protecting hospitals? Wrong. Look at the addendum to Section 402."
"Those traitors in Washington plan to package the core data of the largest insurance companies in the United States and sell it to a foreign sovereign wealth fund."
The scene cut to a composite photo: several businessmen with Asian and Middle Eastern features shaking hands with a senator.
"They want foreigners to control our access to healthcare! In the future, if you want to get surgery, you’ll have to ask for permission from shareholders on the other side of the ocean!"
"This is why they’re after Luigi! Because Luigi discovered this secret and he tried to stop the deal!"
Hank’s hand trembled, and beer sloshed onto his pants.
He felt a rush of blood to his head.
He was an old-school Republican. There were two things he hated most in this world: big government and foreigners.
And now, here were both things, rolled into one.
"Those sons of bitches."
Hank swore.
He didn’t try to verify the authenticity of the document, nor did he stop to consider why insurance companies would sell their data to a foreign fund.
He didn’t need to think.
Because the story perfectly confirmed all his biases against Washington.
It explained why he couldn’t afford to get sick, why his wages never went up, why his life was so dissatisfying.
It was all the fault of those traitors.
Hank slammed the "Share" button and added a line of furious text: "If you don’t share this, you don’t deserve to be an American!"
The algorithm immediately registered his action.
The next second, ten more similar stories populated his feed.
*Foreign Capital Has Infiltrated the Senate*, *Our Medical Data Is Being Stolen*, *Arm Yourselves, Defend the Homeland*.
Hank was hooked.
Inside this echo chamber, where only one voice could be heard, he felt he was seeing the world’s true face.
「At the same time.」
A women’s dormitory at Bryn Mawr College, in the Philadelphia Suburbs, Pennsylvania.
Zoe was a sophomore philosophy major, a staunch animal rights activist, and a radical supporter of the equal rights movement.
She was lying on her bed, scrolling through TikTok.
Her world was completely different from Hank’s.
A video played on her phone screen.
The video was dim, looking as if it had been filmed with a hidden camera inside a prison.
It was Luigi Randall.
He was in an orange prison jumpsuit, huddled in the corner of a cell and shivering violently.
The voiceover was a woman’s voice, distorted by a changer and choked with tears.
"This was filmed last night at the Philadelphia detention center."
"They aren’t giving him food or water, and the guards at the detention center have deliberately turned the air conditioning down to its lowest setting."
"Luigi has asthma. He can barely breathe."
The camera zoomed in for a close-up on Luigi.
His face was ashen, his lips were purple, and his eyes looked vacant.
The video was, of course, a fake.
Sarah’s team had created it using old court footage, digitally altered, and even the shivering was AI-generated.
But Zoe couldn’t tell.
She only saw a hero fighting for justice, being cruelly tormented by the system.
"They’re trying to kill him."
The voiceover continued.
"Because he represents us. Because he dares to stand up to the patriarchal, oppressive capitalist system."
"If Luigi dies, we’re next."
Tears streamed from Zoe’s eyes.
She opened the comment section.
There were already thousands of comments.
"Break him out of prison!"
"Burn down the police station!"
With trembling fingers, Zoe typed: "We have to do something. Tomorrow, we walk out for Luigi!"
The algorithm churned once more.
The next video in Zoe’s feed was a tutorial on how to make a Molotov cocktail, titled *A Resister’s Guide to Self-Defense*.
The one after that was a "greatest hits" compilation of scandals involving the senators who voted for the bill, accusing them of being misogynists and racists.
Zoe was sucked in, too.
In this echo chamber built on anger and a victim mentality, she was convinced she was fighting a holy war.
...
Pittsburgh City Hall, Media and Public Opinion Control Center.
Sarah stood before a massive data-monitoring screen, its glow casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across her face.
Leo leaned against the control console, his gaze following Sarah’s to the countless red curves on the screen.
They were sentiment indices from all across America.
A glaring, furious red.
"We’re creating division in this country."