Voices Under the Stars: Mercer’s Emergency Broadcast Unveils Operation Mirrorball’s Next Phase
As dusk settles over PrideFest, Rep. Mercer addresses thousands in a livestream, revealing urgent developments and rallying support to fight back against the looming threat of Project Garrison.
DOMINION — June 28, 2025 | 8:19 PM
Written by Jax Rowe
PrideFest’s eighth evening began under a soft, golden sky—but something was different. Despite the joy and color still coursing through the park, the atmosphere felt hushed, expectant. The usual laughter and music gave way to an undercurrent of quiet apprehension. Something was coming. Everyone could feel it.
It wasn’t just the festival winding down for the day—it was the weight of what had transpired earlier that morning: news that Representative Joshua Lane Mercer and a delegation of bipartisan lawmakers had been summoned to the Dominion Capitol Building for an emergency session. The cause? Project Garrison—an initiative previously dismissed by skeptics as nothing more than political noise, now confirmed as an aggressive federal plan to eliminate Pride-related events from the national landscape.
Throughout the afternoon, festivalgoers carried on with conviction. Families still picnicked under the trees. Local artists painted murals of hope. Teenagers danced barefoot in the grass. But nearly everyone clutched their phones, checking the time. People formed small discussion circles, whispering about what the emergency meeting might mean, what Mercer would say, and what the next day might bring. The entire park began collectively bracing for 7:00 PM.
By 6:15 PM, event organizers had begun directing the flow of attendees toward the Main Unity Stage. Volunteers rolled out extra projection screens while local drag artists, who had just finished a glitter-drenched performance, began passing out LED bracelets and American flags modified with rainbow stars. Somewhere between nerves and nostalgia, it began to feel like the calm before a storm—or perhaps the pause before history was written.
At exactly 7:00 PM, the crowd went silent. A heartbeat passed. Then another.
Suddenly, the largest jumbotron screen in the park flickered to life.
There stood Rep. Mercer—tie askew, eyes tired but fierce. Behind him were Representatives Collier (D–Northbridge), Duval (R–Gates), and Alvarez (I–Middle Bay). The Capitol’s lighting was dim, as if even the room itself understood the gravity of the moment.
“Good evening, Dominion. I wish I were there with you,” Mercer began, voice steady but charged with emotion. “But tonight, I come to you with both warning—and purpose.”
He spoke plainly: the Trask Administration had activated the next phase of Project Garrison. He listed the policies already set in motion:
Immediate defunding of any municipality found to “promote non-traditional gender and sexual ideologies in public spaces.”
Mandatory investigations of organizations that host Pride events, retroactive to 2021.
Proposed legislation that would make it a federal offense to organize or sponsor LGBTQ+ celebrations without “proper cultural neutrality clearance.”
The installation of facial recognition cameras in “event zones of ideological concern.”
And the most chilling: a federal task force called the Public Alignment and Restoration Initiative (PARI), designed to "reorient community standards."
Gasps rippled through the PrideFest crowd. People turned to one another in disbelief. For many, it was their first time hearing the word “Garrison” spoken aloud. A few wept openly. Others clutched signs, partners, or strangers’ hands.
But Mercer wasn’t finished.
“This is not the end. This is our beginning,” he said. “Operation Mirrorball has entered Phase II. And it begins with truth, unity—and you.”
He outlined the next steps:
Testimonial Collection – Festivalgoers were asked to submit photos, videos, and personal stories that reflected the spirit of PrideFest. These would be compiled into a multimedia dossier for the Dominion Judiciary Committee.
Legal Challenges – A group of attorneys had already filed emergency motions challenging the constitutionality of Project Garrison. Mercer promised to keep the community updated as hearings approached.
Whistleblower Protection – He confirmed that several internal leaks had come from federal employees and allies within the administration. “They are risking everything,” he said. “We must protect them as fiercely as we protect each other.”
Community Defense Fund – Mercer announced the formation of a fund specifically to support local communities facing retaliation for hosting or participating in Pride events.
By now, nearly every attendee at PrideFest was tuned in—either at the Unity Stage, clustered around smaller screens, or following the broadcast from livestreams on their phones. It was estimated that over 150,000 people watched Mercer’s address live across Dominion.
“This is your movement,” Mercer said before signing off. “This is your mirrorball. And I’ll be back at PrideFest tomorrow morning to stand with you.”
The screen faded to black. The silence lingered—for one long, heavy moment.
Then, someone shouted, “We’re still here!” It caught like wildfire. “WE’RE STILL HERE!” The chant echoed across the park. The DJ picked it up. Then the drag queens. Then the crowd.
Confetti cannons fired. Rainbow lights danced. Drag royalty pulled literal scrolls out of their wigs and waved them like flags. Someone lit a hundred tea lights in the shape of a heart in front of the stage.
And still they chanted.
WE’RE STILL HERE.
The night did not end in fear—but in fire. Not the kind that burns, but the kind that forges steel.
PrideFest’s heartbeat did not falter. It marched louder.
Tomorrow, Mercer would return. And Dominion would rise.