[ Arcade Gannon is the anxious sort. Sure of his own skillset, sure, and more than happy to tear somebody a new asshole if they're a repellent maniac or an incredible idiot, but anxious nonetheless. As much as he keeps to himself, it can't have been easy to be here - allegedly - for a month already, without anyone from the Followers around. Len's gaze tracks along the nervous fidgeting of his hands, which settle on something before Arcade seems to think better of it, stilling himself again.

That's new. ]

The unidentified station, yeah. It shows up on my Pip-Boy as a scramble of letters. Basically gibberish, and the text changes every time I open the radio.

[ Len pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to parse out the details. ]

So...is there a why in here somewhere? When you woke up in the garage, they give you any reason for the world's worst road trip?