Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.
The fourth stop of Composer Percival's unprecedented galactic tour brought the massive production crew to the Luprime system. Luprime was the undisputed academic capital of the Stellar Accord, a system entirely dedicated to higher learning, research, and prestige.
Specifically, the concert was being held on the moon of Nova.
It was the very same moon where Lyra currently attended the prestigious Astra Nova Academy.
The planetary system of Luprime was effectively the intellectual and academic capital of the Accord, home to dozens of elite institutions. Among them was the Aethelgard Academy, Dorian's former alma mater.
Logically, choosing Aethelgard for the concert would have been the perfect "homecoming" narrative. So why did Dorian specifically bypass them to book their biggest academic rival?
Because Dorian Kepler could hold a profound, legendary grudge.
He hadn't forgotten what happened four years ago. Aethelgard had mercilessly yanked his academic scholarship and unceremoniously kicked him to the curb.
He could be incredibly petty like that. He is becoming the biggest artist in the galaxy, and Aethelgard wasn't getting a single credit of his tour's revenue.
However, his tactical pettiness created a rather complicated situation for Juno. She was currently an active, high-ranking student at Aethelgard, but she was scheduled to be the opening guest star at the Astra Nova concert.
The crossover sent the highly competitive, deeply interconnected university forums of Luprime into an absolute meltdown. Her crossing enemy lines to perform at a rival academy's venue sparked an absolute turf war on the inter-university net.
[Thread: Percival at Astra Nova - Venue Annexation Plan]
> Crimson_Vanguard (Aethelgard Academy):
"Attention all Aethelgard students. Juno Park is OURS. It is an absolute insult that she has to perform on that second-rate moon. I want every single one of you using your trust funds to buy out the Grand Hall tickets. We are going to flood their precious dome and make it a sea of Aethelgard Red."
> Nova_Scholar_01 (Astra Nova):
"Too bad the sea is inherently Blue, just like Astra Nova! you archaic brutes! Have fun trying to buy tickets when our alumni network already secured all the VVIP floating platforms. Don't you guys have some dirt to study?"
> Armstrong_Aero (Armstrong Starlight Academy):
"Aethelgard and Astra Nova fighting over colors is hilarious. Armstrong Starlight engineers literally design and build the starships and the dome venue. Also, it's honestly so embarrassing watching Aethelgard students violently coping with the fact that their administration's endowment couldn't secure the bid for the Composer. Money truly cannot buy taste"
> Aethel_Supremacy (Aethelgard Academy):
"Pipe down, Arsestrong. Your academy's astrophysics department is literally ranking fourth. You are basically a community academy. We are going to annex the Grand Hall by sheer volume."
> Brightly_Nova (Astra Nova):
"YOUR student had to come to OUR moon just to find a dome with decent acoustics. Sit down."
> Tsiolkovsky_Logic (Tsiolkovsky Stellar Institute):
"Statistically speaking, Aethelgard's attempt at a ticket monopoly is futile. Based on the Dome's 750,000 capacity and the current queue algorithms, Astra Nova students hold home-network priority. Also, Armstrong_Aero is right. You are coping."
> Nova_Scholar_01 (Astra Nova):
"Thank you, Tsiolkovsky. See you nerds in the dome. GO BLUE!"
The Ivy-League-style dogfighting raged endlessly right up until the doors finally opened.
…
The Grand Hall of Astra Nova was less of a traditional stadium and more of an engineering marvel. It was a colossal, enclosed geodesic dome featuring overlapping layers of reinforced smart-glass that allowed the starry Luprime night sky to be entirely visible.
It comfortably held a staggering capacity of 750,000 people, with hundreds of anti-grav VIP platforms floating majestically above the massive main floor.
Tonight, the audience was a chaotic, wildly energetic sea of the galaxy's brightest, wealthiest, and most arrogant youth, all proudly sporting their respective, brightly colored academy jackets.
Peeking out from the heavy velvet curtains of the backstage wings, Dorian stretched his arms over his head, listening to the deafening, highly competitive chants of the rival students echoing through the massive dome.
He looked over at the expanded orchestra pit. He had specifically flown the Proximata Orchestral Band out to Luprime for this leg of the tour, and they were already seated, aggressively tuning their instruments. Dorian caught the conductor's eye and shot him a confident thumbs-up.
Beside Dorian, Juno was doing a light set of stretches. She was wearing a stunning, custom-designed outfit that perfectly blended the flashy aesthetic of a pop star with the sleek, tactical mobility of a high-tier Solar.
"Ready to face them?" Percival asked, crossing his arms.
Juno let out a highly dismissive scoff. "Please. I've literally eaten live burrow-bugs during my field training. Singing a few songs for a bunch of trust-fund students is incredibly easy."
She stepped closer, noticing a tiny, almost invisible smudge of dust on the edge of his silver mask. Without hesitating, she raised her hand and gently scrubbed it away with her thumb, her touch lingering for just a fraction of a second.
Dorian felt his heart skip a tiny beat. He leaned in just a fraction. "Go get 'em, hon."
Juno flashed a breathtaking, heart-stopping wink. "I'll be waiting for you out there, Dori."
She turned and marched confidently toward the stage ramp. As she stepped out from the shadows and into the blinding spotlight, the Proximata Orchestra struck a massive, explosive opening chord.
Juno raised her microphone, her voice echoing through the dome with undeniable, valedictorian authority.
"HEEELLLOOOO ASTRA NOVA!!!"
…
High above the massive, roaring crowd, suspended on one of the luxurious anti-grav platforms reserved strictly for the academy's elite, sat one social circle of Astra Nova.
Hana Vhan was currently leaning over the reinforced glass railing, absolutely losing her mind. She was fully decked out from head to toe in official Composer Percival merchandise. Beside her stood Lyra Kepler, looking incredibly sharp and comfortable in her blue Astra Nova varsity jacket.
Despite being a full two years younger than everyone else on the VIP platform, Lyra fit right in. Because of her relentless academic drive, she had bypassed the standard education system, enrolling early into the prestigious academy and landing in the exact same semester as Hana.
In the middle of Juno's explosive setlist, Hana leaned closer to Lyra, having to shout over the deafening bass of the speakers.
"I literally still cannot believe you actually managed to talk to Percival's manager to get him to do a concert on our moon!" Hana screamed happily, waving a glowing light-stick.
Lyra awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck, offering a modest smile. "Not really, Hana! I just happen to know one of the people on his management team. I just... gave them a small suggestion, that's all."
"Well, you need to suggest they add a sixth concert to the tour!" Hana demanded playfully. "And while you're at it, make him do it on my home planet! I promise I'll talk to my dad and get the capital city ready for him."
Another Astra Nova student standing behind them, a young heir to a shipping conglomerate scoffed lightly. "I highly doubt Senator Vhan should use his political influence to book a pop concert, Hana."
Hana aggressively rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Whatever. I can easily convince him."
Lyra could only laugh awkwardly, turning her gaze back down to the stage. In truth, she had absolutely no idea why her older brother had insisted so heavily on performing at Astra Nova instead of his own former academy. Dorian had just vaguely mentioned something about 'sending a message.'
But looking down at the spectacular stage, Lyra couldn't help but smile warmly. 'Fine,' she thought to herself, resting her chin on her hands. 'You can show off a little bit today, Brother.'
Down on the main platform, the heavy pop-synth beat of Juno's opening act smoothly faded out. The stadium lights dimmed into a warm, grounded amber hue.
Suddenly, the crisp, clean sound of a finger-picked acoustic guitar echoed through the massive dome. It was a steady, rhythmic riff that radiated a profound feeling of absolute reliability.
The 750,000 students in the crowd instantly erupted into cheers. It was the official start of Composer Percival's set.
Instead of stepping off the stage, Juno turned toward the shadows where the masked Maestro was playing the riff. She grabbed the microphone stand with both hands and leaned in.
"We're in the homestretch... of the hard times..."
With a single opening line, the unrealistic, fairy-tale expectation of a perfectly flawless relationship was completely shattered. It was a song about enduring the storm.
"We took a hard left... but we're alright..."
Juno's voice perfectly validated the universal struggle of maintaining a bond. The sheer authenticity of the lyrics instantly gripped the massive crowd, and thousands of students automatically began to softly sing along with her.
"Yeah, life sure can try to put love through it, but…" Juno shifted her vocal delivery. Her voice became incredibly bright, sharp, and laced with a satisfying, stylized twang that cut flawlessly through the acoustic guitar.
"We built this right... so nothing's ever gonna move it!"
It was a powerful, defiant acknowledgment of a foundation built on trust and resilience. As the pre-chorus built to its peak, the instrumental track swelled, and Juno backed away from the microphone stand, extending the mic out toward the massive crowd.
"When the bones are good, the rest don't matter!"
The audience needed absolutely no prompting. Seven hundred and fifty thousand voices roared the lyrics back at her in perfect, thunderous unison.
The profound message of the song instantly washed over the dome. It was a raw, honest anthem about trust, respect, loyalty, and deep, unshakeable love. If those foundational elements were intact, all the superficial things were completely irrelevant.
"Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter..."
Up in the anti-grav platforms, the elite social circles of Astra Nova were completely engrossed in the performance. However, one specific senior boy, sitting idly a few seats away, wasn't looking at the stage at all. Instead, he kept stealing nervous, lingering glances at Lyra Kepler.
Lyra, entirely oblivious to the teenage crushing directed her way, had her sharp eyes completely locked onto the darkened background of the stage. She was ignoring the flashy light show, waiting for the shadowed figure playing the acoustic guitar to finally reveal himself.
"Let it rain 'cause you and I remain the same."
Juno brought the microphone back to her lips, delivering the line with a fierce, unwavering confidence. It was a direct, fearless taunt to the storm.
"When there ain't a crack in the foundation..." The lyrics echoed the reality of true partnership. As long as the core was uncracked, the rain was just weather. They would outlast it.
Suddenly, Lyra felt a gaze burning into the side of her head. She snapped her head to the side, her sharp eyes instantly catching the senior staring at her.
Caught in the act, the boy immediately panicked. He snapped his head forward, his ears flushing a violent shade of red as he tried to pretend he was intensely interested in the stadium lights.
Lyra narrowed her eyes, her brain quickly analyzing the interaction. 'Does this senior have feelings for Hana?' she deduced, arriving at a completely incorrect conclusion. She maintained her suspicious glare, silently warning the boy to back off her friend.
Down on the stage, Juno belted out the buildup. "Baby, I know any storm we're facing...""Will blow right over while we stay put!"
It was a brilliant lyrical instruction manual for survival. When things got incredibly difficult, human nature urged people to panic, run away, or tear things down. The song argued the exact opposite: dig your heels in, lock the doors, and simply wait. The storm will always exhaust itself before the house does.
"The house don't fall when the bones are good!"
The 750,000 students screamed the drop in absolute sync, the sheer volume shaking the floating platforms.
And then, a new voice entered the track, bringing a heavy, beautiful dose of grounded humility.
"Call it dumb luck, but baby, you and I..."
Stepping out of the deep shadows and into the warm, sweeping spotlights, Percival finally revealed himself. His silver mask gleamed under the dome lights as his fingers effortlessly danced across the fretboard of his acoustic guitar.
The moment the Composer stepped into the light, the roaring of the fans intensified into a physical shockwave, rattling the very structural glass of the dome.
"Can't even mess it up, though we both tried."
He sang it with a deeply warm, self-deprecating tone. It was a beautiful admission that their love was practically dummy-proof.
"No, it don't always go the way we planned it..."
Up in the VVIP stands, the senior boy saw Lyra still glaring suspiciously at him. He became completely flustered, practically sinking into the collar of his expensive academy jacket.
Hana noticed the strange, hostile tension radiating from her friend. She leaned over, tapping Lyra's shoulder. "Lyra, what's going on?"
"Nothing," Lyra replied softly, not breaking her protective glare. "Do you happen to like that senior over there?"
Hana glanced at the boy, then scoffed dismissively. "Hmmm... not really. I only like Composer Percival."
Lyra finally dropped her glare, blinking as she looked back down at her masked older brother on the stage. "Oh. Okay then."
"But the wolves came and went, but we're still standing," Percival sang, his voice ringing with quiet strength.
It was the ultimate metaphor for surviving jealous outsiders, toxic influences, and severe personal crises. The wolves tested the house, realized they couldn't blow it down, and moved on. The inhabitants remained standing.
As the song surged toward its ultimate emotional climax, Percival walked smoothly across the stage, closing the distance between himself and Juno.
"When the bones are good, the rest don't matter..."
For the final duet, Percival stepped right up to Juno's stand. The two of them leaned in together, their faces mere inches apart as they shared the single mic, their voices blending into a breathtaking, soaring harmony.
Across the massive dome, the thousands of rabid 'Junival' shippers absolutely lost their minds, screaming in pure, unadulterated ecstasy at the intense, magnetic chemistry radiating from the stage.
"Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter!"
…
The final note of the acoustic guitar rang out, hanging beautifully in the air. The song ended with Percival and Juno standing mere inches from each other. They were both breathing slightly heavy, perfectly framed by the spotlight.
Hovering completely invisible just above their heads, the ethereal projection of Aphrodite swooned, twirling gracefully through the air. "Ahh... young love in the air," the Goddess of Beauty sighed happily. "This is simply majestic, Creator. Look at her eyes."
Juno was entirely frozen. She stared into the dark lenses of the silver mask, feeling completely charmed. She hadn't fully realized it until this exact moment, standing under the blinding heat of the stage lights with 750,000 screaming people around them.
The quiet, sometimes awkward Dorian Kepler she normally teased and the magnetic, world-stopping Composer Percival were not two different people. They were one and the same. And somehow, seeing him effortlessly command an entire moon's worth of elite students made him terrifyingly handsome. He was truly, undeniably born for the stage.
Sensing the electric tension stretching just a second too long, Percival smoothly leaned back from the mic. He pointed a dramatic finger at his duet partner.
"Give it up for Juno Park, everyone!!!" Percival shouted, his voice booming over the speakers.
The geodesic dome absolutely erupted. The crowd roared with staggering enthusiasm, stomping their feet and waving their colored light-sticks. Juno blinked, snapping out of her trance. She flashed a brilliant, professional smile, bowed deeply to the audience, and waved as she confidently walked off the stage, accompanied by the deafening cheers of her fans.
Once she was gone, Percival turned back to the audience. "Are you guys ready to have some fun tonight?!"
The entire stage roared back with the force of a localized earthquake. "YEAAHH!!"
And with that, Composer Percival's setlist officially began.
…
An hour and a half later, the final, explosive note of the main setlist echoed through the dome.
The heavy stage lights flashed, and the crowd screamed themselves hoarse. Percival stood near the edge of the stage, his chest heaving. A stagehand sprinted out from the wings, quickly throwing a fresh white towel to the Composer.
As Percival caught it and casually dabbed the sweat from his neck, the front barrier of the audience began screaming at the top of their lungs, desperately begging him to throw the used towel to them.
Percival hadn't even spoken a word yet, but seeing the usually composed, arrogant elite students acting like ravenous animals made him chuckle into the microphone.
"You guys are smart," Percival teased, pacing along the edge of the stage with the towel hanging around his neck. "You know exactly what time it is. You know the deal, right?"
The crowd immediately went dead silent. The feral screaming stopped. The energy in the dome instantly shifted from hype to pure, suffocating suspense. Everyone knew the rule. The lucky spotlight. The impromptu song.
"Lighting director..." Percival pointed high up into the rafters. "Hit it!"
A massive, brilliant white spotlight shot out from the central array and began to rapidly spin around the inside of the dome. It swept across the lower tiers, climbed the terraced seating, and then began bouncing wildly between the hundreds of anti-grav VVIP platforms floating in the air.
The 750,000 students collectively held their breath.
The blinding light slowed down, ticking past the platforms one by one. It hovered over the Astra Nova circle for a fraction of a second, entirely illuminating Lyra and Hana's table, before clicking exactly one platform to the left and locking into place.
"Aawww! Come on!" Hana groaned loudly, slumping back into her luxurious chair. "It was almost us!"
Instead, the spotlight had landed directly on the neighboring platform occupied entirely by the top-ranking students of the Tsiolkovsky Stellar Institute.
As the light hit them, a small compartment in the center of their floating table smoothly slid open, revealing a high-fidelity audience microphone. Instead of screaming or crying like normal fans, the group of TSI students immediately huddled together, whispering furiously in a rapid-fire, logical deliberation.
After a few seconds of intense academic debate, one of the students stepped forward and tapped the microphone.
"Hello," the student said, his voice flat, highly precise, and completely devoid of any pop-concert excitement. "I am Ivan."
Percival let out an amused chuckle, leaning against his microphone stand. "Hello there, Ivan. It seems you guys had to have a committee meeting just to elect a representative. How are all of you doing? Are you enjoying the show?"
Ivan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "The musical performance was superb, Composer. However, our institute's engineering cohort did take several structural notes on how the acoustic dampening of the main stage could be vastly improved for better sound distribution." Ivan paused, glancing out at the dome. "But we will keep those calculations to ourselves, seeing as this is Astra Nova's architecture, and we do not wish to insult their... rudimentary engineering."
The entire dome reacted instantly. A massive, echoing wave of groans, furious boos, and delighted laughter erupted as the Tsiolkovsky student publicly threw heavy academic shade directly at the host academy.
Percival threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Alright, alright! Let's keep the cross-campus warfare to a minimum tonight, Ivan. So, tell me. Do you have a message you want to dedicate to someone? I can't promise I can make a perfect song out of it, but I will try my best."
Ivan stood perfectly straight, his expression completely unreadable.
"No, Composer," Ivan stated firmly, his voice echoing cleanly across the quieted dome. "After our deliberation, the consensus of the Tsiolkovsky Stellar Institute is that we want to challenge you instead."
**A/N**
~Read 14 weeks worth of Advance Chapter on [email protected]/SmilinKujo~
~🧣KujoW
**A/N**