The waiting room door slammed open. The roaring noise from the hallway flooded in like a burst dam, instantly swallowing their fleeting moment of peace.
"Attention, Snow Wolf on standby. Thirty seconds to stage!"
The stage director's deadpan, urgent voice echoed through the backstage PA system. The crew, having just seen off Otto and Kallen, snapped back into chaotic action.
"Ohhh, yeah! It's finally time!"
Siegfried snatched up his guitar—a custom build that looked suspiciously like the Judgment of Shamash—and hopped in place, practically buzzing with excitement.
His earlier groveling had completely vanished. Right now, Siegfried was running on nothing but pure, unadulterated hype.
"Let's—DO THIS!!"
"Do it for Kira!!"
"Yeah..." Kira mumbled back, her eyes glazed over. Half her soul had already left her body, but her feet marched forward with surprising resolve.
The heavy soundproof doors parted.
Blinding spotlights pierced the backstage gloom like glowing swords, hitting them straight in the face. What followed was a tidal wave of roaring cheers.
The audience had just bawled their eyes out over Otto's epic performance. Riding an absolute emotional high, they desperately needed the next act to vent their surging adrenaline.
"Come on, everyone! Let's welcome—Kira Star and the Snow Wolf Band!"
The announcer's voice vibrated with passion—and maybe a tremor of sheer terror, as if he sensed the impending disaster.
TWANG—
Siegfried struck a heavy chord on his guitar, unleashing a screeching distortion that would make any professional musician have a stroke. But in this exact moment? It worked perfectly.
The spotlight poured over center stage like liquid gold, illuminating every speck of dust in the air.
Then, under the gaze of thousands, the performance officially began!
"YAHOO!!" Siegfried howled, his explosive voice slamming directly into the rhythm of the crowd's heartbeats.
The first half of the Snow Wolf Band's performance was a calculated, feral auditory hurricane. Siegfried wasn't using any Divine Key powers here. Hooked up to traditional roaring amps, his black electric guitar erupted with a soul-igniting, distorted riff.
This was a pure collision of technique and passion—the freakish, innate talent flowing through the Kaslana bloodline transmuted into musical notes.
The crowd boiled over.
This was a true rock band, weaponizing traditional instruments to forge a melody that transcended eras.
Their ears rang with deafening drum beats; the music was nothing but raw, heavy impacts. Even the audience's heartbeats fell into an erratic, frantic synchronization with the rhythm. The whole world was screaming heavy metal, and no one was immune.
So, the audience screamed with them, their voices merging into the heavy metal tempest. The crowd shrieked in unison while the band played like their lives depended on it. Everyone had a part. Everyone was caught in the storm.
Shigure Kira stood at the very front of the stage, her palms sweating as she gripped the microphone.
She heard it. She heard the deafening tsunami of cheers from the crowd.
Is this... the stage?
Is this the feeling of being adored by millions that I've always dreamed of?
During a brief interlude, Siegfried shot her a wink over his shoulder, his eyes brimming with encouragement.
See? Told you you could do it!
Kira took a deep breath. The suffocating knot of anxiety in her chest finally unspooled, replaced by a surging flame of absolute confidence.
And then, the intro ended.
Siegfried took a sharp step back, yielding center stage. Cecilia's drumming softened, and Shub's bass shifted into a low, steady underscore. Every instrument sheathed its edge, fading back to elevate their incoming lead singer.
They had rehearsed this transition countless times. Even though Kira had never been part of those practice sessions, they didn't need words right now.
This was her moment.
"Everyone—!"
Kira closed her eyes. Memories flashed through her mind—the endless hours practicing in front of the mirror, the sweat and tears shed for this singular moment.
She opened her mouth, drew breath from the very depths of her stomach, and channeled her entire soul into her vocal cords.
If she were a top-tier idol, this would be the golden window to push the performance to its absolute zenith.
If she were just an ordinary person, a quick two-sentence greeting would hype up the crowd and elevate the show.
Hell, even if she were a regular tone-deaf amateur, just screaming "LET'S GO!"—even with a voice crack—would ignite the stadium and guarantee a smooth landing for the performance.
But...
That was loser thinking!!
She, Shigure Kira, was never afraid of failure!
Destroy it! This stage they painstakingly built... was made just for me to destroy!
"WAAAAAH—"
With zero restraint and zero filtering, she expelled every ounce of air from her lungs. The cry from the depths of her soul warped into a literally visible sonic shockwave, slamming brutally into the microphone.
For a split second, someone hit the pause button on time itself.
The audience, who had just been frantically waving glowsticks in anticipation of an angelic voice, froze in terrifying unison.
Then, bathed in a death knell straight from the underworld, every single face in the crowd began to violently contort.
This wasn't a concert.
It was a terrorist attack!
SCREEEECH—BZZZT—AAAGGHHH!!!
You could physically see the soundwaves radiating through the air. A massive, burly dude in the front row caught the brunt of the frontal assault, his eyes rolling back as he dropped to the floor, foaming at the mouth.
"GYAAAH! MY EARS!!"
"IT'S HER! THE HERRSCHER OF DEATHLY VOCALS!!"
"Lord Shu! Lord Shu, save me! The Eldritch screeching is corrupting my mind!!"
"To hear this world-ending melody in person... MY LIFE WAS WORTH THE TICKET PRICE!!"
Standing at center stage, Kira watched the apocalyptic chaos unfolding below. Listening to the blood-curdling screams, the surging "go for broke" adrenaline in her veins instantly deflated.
Is this... my singing?
I knew it. It's just not meant to be. Even with the best instruments, the best bandmates, the best stage...
A lack of talent is just a lack of talent.
A crushing tide of disappointment washed over Kira, drowning her completely. She gripped the mic with trembling hands, her eyes stinging with tears.
This was too far from her real dream. The scene she'd envisioned was filled with cheering fans and tears of joy—not a mass casualty evacuation zone.
Just as she was about to drop the mic and flee the stage like a deserter—
A large, strong hand shot out and clamped around her waist.
"Waaah!"
Kira yelped as she was hoisted into the air. She whipped her head around in shock, only to find that Siegfried had unceremoniously slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Siegfried?! What are you doing! Put me down!" Mortified, Kira frantically pounded on his back. "My dream... it's completely ruined!"
"Ruined, my ass! I guarantee you, more than half the people here will remember you for the rest of their lives!" Siegfried carried her with one arm, using his free hand to snatch his guitar off the floor.
"But for now, Cinderella's magic is wearing off!
"Cecilia! Nicholas! Everyone! Fall back!"