Silas Thorne didn't know how long he'd been trapped in the opera house.A day? A month? A lifetime?
Every door he tried led him back here—onto the stage.The velvet curtains hung in tatters. The chandeliers swayed though there was no wind.And on the center of the stage sat the grand piano, its black lacquer gleaming like still water.
The melody in his head would not leave him.It whispered while he slept, it hummed through the silence, it ached in his fingers until he obeyed.
The first time he played it, he'd seen a shadow move in the balcony.The second time, the painted ceiling began to crack.
Tonight… he didn't care what it did. He just wanted the music to stop haunting him.
He sat at the piano.His reflection stared back—amber eyes, pale skin, hair tousled like he'd been running through a storm. A stranger's face.
He pressed the first note.The air quivered. The stage groaned beneath his feet.
Second note.The chandeliers swung harder, crystal teardrops clinking against each other like muffled applause.
Third note.A fissure tore down the length of the hall, peeling the red carpet apart to reveal a black void beneath.
That was when the voice came."Play on, little composer."
Silas's head snapped up.
From the shadowed balcony descended a tall figure, coat stitched from torn sheet music, boots tapping in rhythm with the melody. In his gloved hand—A baton, sharp as a spear.
The Conductor.Silas didn't know how he knew that name, only that it carried the weight of dread.
"My crown grows heavy," the tyrant murmured, his tone almost polite. "It craves your requiem."
The word struck something in Silas's mind. Pain flared behind his eyes. He kept playing—because stopping felt worse.
The Conductor's baton twitched. Lightning burst from the storm outside, arcing to the beat of the Nocturne.
Silas's fingers faltered. The melody stuttered. Something important—something personal—slipped from his memory, like a name written in water.
And then she appeared.
A girl in a black dress stepped from the wings, violin in hand. Stardust trailed from her bow as she played, her notes latching onto his, holding the crumbling world together for just a moment more.
"Silas!" she cried over the storm. "Don't forget me!"
The words froze him. He didn't know her—And yet he did.
The Conductor raised his baton like a guillotine."Time's up."
The next chord shattered the blood-red moon above, and thorned roses rained through the broken ceiling.
Something in Silas's mind broke.Her name was gone.