The silence inside Avery's ear monitor did not frighten her.
It freed her.
For one breathless instant, the world narrowed to darkness and vibration—the low tremor of bass traveling through the stage floor, the heat of the spotlights on her skin, the roar of a crowd that did not yet realize what was about to happen.
Avery closed her eyes.
Inside her mind, the Entertainment System responded instantly, smoothly, like a blade sliding out of its sheath.
[Skill Activated: Internal Metronome][Rhythm Synchronization: Absolute][External Audio Dependency: Nullified]
She didn't need to hear the music.
The rhythm was already inside her.
It had been burned into her bones long ago—in another world, another life, another stage. It lived in the way her heart beat, in the way her lungs expanded, in the way her muscles remembered when to move and when to strike.
The opening bars thundered on without her.
The Lion charged forward, voice booming, feeding on the crowd's initial momentum. He thought he had the advantage now. He thought the Phoenix had been crippled.
He was wrong.
Avery stepped forward.
She didn't sing softly to find her pitch.
She didn't hesitate.
She ripped the microphone from its stand.
The metallic screech echoed sharply through the studio as the stand toppled over behind her, clattering to the floor like discarded armor.
Gasps rippled through the audience.
Then Avery sang.
"I love rock 'n' roll—!"
The sound that came out of her mouth was not polished.
It was not restrained.
It was feral.
Her voice tore through the studio like fire through dry grass—raw, gritty, edged with defiance and hunger. It wasn't just loud; it was alive. Every note carried teeth. Every word carried intent.
The rafters shook.
The Lion staggered half a step, instinctively turning toward her, his dominance shattered in a single line. This wasn't a duet anymore.
This was a hunt.
Avery didn't stay on the stage.
She leapt down.
The crowd screamed as she hit the floor between the front rows, boots striking hard, her voice never faltering for even a fraction of a beat. Security stiffened, unsure whether to intervene, but the director's frantic gestures stopped them.
"Don't stop her!" someone shouted from the control room. "Keep rolling!"
Avery stalked forward, singing straight into the chaos, her body moving with the rhythm only she could hear. Audience members recoiled and leaned in at the same time, faces flushed, eyes wide, as if something wild had broken loose among them.
Then she climbed onto the edge of the judging platform.
Julian Vane looked up just in time.
Avery pointed at him.
Her finger stopped inches from his face.
"And don't you know that I love rock 'n' roll—!"
She screamed the chorus directly at him.
Not metaphorically.
Not symbolically.
Literally.
Julian flinched.
The cameras caught it.
The Golden Boy—the man who had smiled through scandals, who had charmed his way out of accusations, who had never lost control on live television—recoiled like a child caught stealing.
The crowd went insane.
People were on their feet, shouting, chanting, stomping. Some were laughing hysterically. Others were screaming Avery's persona name at the top of their lungs.
"PHOENIX!""PHOENIX!""PHOENIX!"
Mila Vance stood abruptly, hand pressed to her chest.
"This—this is madness," she breathed. "Beautiful madness."
Director Zhang's hands were shaking. "She's singing without feedback… without monitoring… this isn't technique anymore. This is instinct at its purest."
Julian couldn't hear them.
All he could hear was her.
That voice.
That same voice he had once dismissed as replaceable.
That same voice now tearing him apart on national television.
Avery leaned closer, her masked eyes burning through him.
"Come and take your time and dance with me!"
The final chorus detonated.
The band, thrown completely off balance, followed her lead instinctively. The Lion tried one last time to reclaim the spotlight, but it was over. The System's Scene Stealer passive crushed his presence utterly.
He wasn't defeated.
He was erased.
The music slammed to a stop.
Avery held the final note—long, brutal, unwavering—then cut it cleanly, snapping the sound off like breaking a neck.
Silence.
Then—
The studio exploded.
This wasn't applause anymore.
It was a riot of sound.
People screamed until their throats gave out. Chairs rattled. Camera operators forgot their cues. One assistant producer was openly crying, hands over her mouth.
Inside Avery's mind, the System chimed.
[Achievement Unlocked: Improvised Legend][Description: Performed a dominance-level stage takeover under total sensory deprivation.]
Another chime followed, heavier, more resonant.
[Reward Unlocked: Platinum Treasure Chest][Opening…]
Images flooded her consciousness.
A sinking ship.A sweeping orchestral score.Blueprints of impossible sets.Camera rigs, water tanks, lighting arrays.A love story vast enough to swallow the world.
[Reward Contents:]"Titanic" — Complete Script, Musical Score, Directing Notes, and Technical Blueprints
Avery's breath caught for just a fraction of a second.
Then she smiled.
Slowly.
Coldly.
As the cheers continued, Avery turned and walked back toward the stage. She didn't bow. She didn't wave. She didn't acknowledge the judges.
She had already taken everything she wanted from this moment.
Backstage, Elias Vance was waiting, eyes blazing with barely contained excitement and fury.
Avery reached him and slipped a small USB drive into his palm.
"The recording," she said calmly. "Producer. Technician. Instructions. Frequencies. Everything."
Elias's fingers closed around the drive.
"When?" he asked.
"In one hour," Avery replied. "Leak it through a high-engagement fan account. Anonymous. Timestamped. Let it spread naturally."
Elias grinned like a predator.
Marcus Thorne thought he was cutting off her sound.
Instead, he had handed her a weapon.
Avery glanced back toward the stage, where Julian Vane sat stiffly, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.
"Let's see," she added softly, "how Marcus Thorne explains why he's trying to kill the most popular show on television."
Behind her mask, her eyes burned brighter than ever.
The Phoenix had just sung in the dark.
And the entire world had heard her anyway.