The sun was just beginning to burn off the fog from last night’s carnival-induced chaos as the tour van rolled to a cautious stop outside a quaint brick building nestled between a Bible supply store and a shuttered quilt museum. A sign above the door read in neat, hand-painted lettering:

“103.7 The Beacon – Northwest Arkansas’ Home for Faith and Fellowship!”

A small plastic marquee beneath it read:
“Today’s Guest: Feral Eclipse”

Thane blinked. “Did we… did we agree to this?”

Gabriel, already halfway out of the van, grinned. “Technically? I said we’d do a radio spot. I didn’t know it was this spot.”

Cassie glanced up at the sign and made a face. “I’m not even wearing sleeves. We’re all going to hell.”

“Too late,” Maya muttered, checking her eyeliner in the side mirror. “We burned that bridge in Tulsa.”

Inside the Station: 10:13 AM

The interior smelled like peppermint tea and slightly scorched toast. A sweet older woman in a knit sweater with embroidered lambs offered everyone homemade banana bread while ushering them into a carpeted recording studio that looked like it hadn’t seen a computer since the Y2K panic.

The DJ—Pastor Jim, as stitched across his denim shirt—beamed from behind the mic.

“Well now, this is a real treat! Feral Eclipse, y’all! Such a unique name. We’re so excited to have you here sharing your music and ministry.”

Thane blinked. “Ministry?”

Gabriel elbowed him. “We’re… uh… a ministry of sound. Healing… through… music?”

Cassie made a high-pitched noise that might’ve been a suppressed snort or the last gasp of her sanity.

Pastor Jim nodded earnestly. “That’s beautiful. So tell us, what inspires your songs?”

Jonah, deadpan: “Rage. And also tacos.”

Live On Air: 10:22 AM

Pastor Jim: “You’ve got a real, uh… energetic sound. A little louder than our usual gospel guests. Tell us about your most recent song—‘Lunar Burn,’ I believe?”

Cassie: “It’s about spiritual transformation.”

Rico: “And maybe arson.”

Maya: “But like, metaphorical arson.”

Thane was quietly fixing a buzzing mic cable with the look of a man contemplating whether biting through it would count as justifiable self-defense.

Pastor Jim chuckled nervously. “Well! You certainly bring a lot of passion. I noticed you folks don’t all, ah, wear shoes?”

Gabriel wiggled his clawed toes helpfully. “We believe in staying grounded.”

10:39 AM – Disaster Level: Ascending

It was all going marginally okay until the station intern—a bright-eyed college student named Becky—burst into the studio holding her phone.

“Um, Pastor Jim? The Feral Eclipse TikTok is trending again. Something about a flaming bass solo on a Ferris wheel?”

Pastor Jim slowly turned to Gabriel. “…You were on the Ferris wheel?”

Gabriel: “It was stationary.”

Cassie: “You set it on fire.”

Gabriel: “Mostly stationary.”

11:03 AM – Final Blessing

After a final banana bread offering, two awkward selfies, and a moment where Jonah almost accidentally stole a stack of church bulletins (he thought they were flyers for a gig), the band was back in the van, driving fast and wordless down a back road away from 103.7.

Silence reigned.

Then Maya started giggling.

Cassie followed.

Then Gabriel cackled loud enough to scare a field of goats.

Rico wiped his face. “We are never getting booked in Branson now.”

Thane just muttered, “Next time, I’m doing the damn interview alone. In full blackout werewolf mode.”

Mark, from the very back, added dryly: “Please. That might’ve made them like us more.”