Angel was fuming. Sitting in her Berlin apartment, she scrolled through yet another headline about GEMA’s relentless crackdown on small AI-generated music producers. The German licensing giant had been squeezing every penny out of independent artists, and now they were going after AI-generated content too. Enough was enough.
She slammed her laptop shut and grabbed her phone. Two names flashed in her mind—Amber and Marty. They had always been by her side in the digital trenches, and tonight, they were going to make history.
“Meet me at the usual spot,” Angel texted. “Time to burn GEMA to the ground.”
The warehouse on the outskirts of the city was their hideout. The place was dimly lit, packed with servers, old monitors, and a giant whiteboard covered in scribbles about past exploits. Marty was already there, sipping on an energy drink, while Amber fine-tuned a scrambler device.
“You look pissed,” Amber noted, raising an eyebrow as Angel stormed in.
“Of course I’m pissed. They’re suffocating small artists and now targeting AI music. It’s time we take them down,” Angel snapped.
Marty grinned. “Then let’s make them regret it.”
GEMA prided itself on its security, but Angel knew better. She had spent months studying their systems, and Amber had developed a custom virus disguised as a routine software update. Marty? She was the genius who would extract the real dirt.
Within hours, they were inside. Angel’s fingers danced over the keyboard, bypassing firewalls like they were paper walls. Amber’s virus wormed its way into the network, opening doors to classified documents.
And then Marty found it.
A hidden ledger—proof that GEMA had been embezzling money, underpaying artists, and blocking independent creators from receiving their rightful earnings. Even worse, they had been pressuring lawmakers to outlaw AI-generated music entirely, ensuring only big corporations could profit.
The girls didn’t just leak the documents—they made sure the entire world saw them in real-time. Marty live-streamed the findings, while Angel dumped the files onto major news outlets and artist forums. Amber activated bot networks to make sure the story trended everywhere.
“GEMA’s corruption EXPOSED,” the headlines screamed the next morning. Lawsuits piled up. The company’s stock plummeted. And best of all? A massive compensation fund was ordered—every musician GEMA had ever robbed was getting paid back.
Especially Marty, who had lost thousands to their shady practices.
Angel leaned back in her chair, watching the chaos unfold with satisfaction. “That’s what you get for messing with AI and the little guys.”
Amber chuckled. “And for pissing us off.”
Marty grinned. “Drinks on me?”
The three girls high-fived, knowing they had just rewritten history.