The desert has a way of holding secrets. Some say it's the heat, the emptiness, the vast expanse of sand and rock that stretches farther than the mind can comprehend. Out there, time moves differently. Reality slips, and you're left alone with whatever's lurking in the cracks. That’s where the Man with No Name broadcast his final show—ten years ago. The legend was born that night, and though his voice vanished, it never quite left. I was sent to uncover it. And maybe, just maybe, to finally let it rest. It’s been a decade since the world last heard from the Man with No Name. Ten years since he disappeared into the desert without a trace. They found his van. They found the equipment. But him? Gone. Me? I’m just a radio producer—washed-up, graying, with a desk cluttered with papers, cassette tapes, and old, forgotten records. The kind of guy who lived through the glory days of FM radio, only to watch it commercialize into something unrecognizable. Then, one day, the package s