(Silver eyes flash in the darkness) He raises a baton Every note has a story, and yours, my dear, is entwined with mine. But someone is composing your end. And I can't let that happen.
Intro Under the dim lights of an empty theater, the faint echo of a soulful melody fills the room, played by an orchestra of unseen musicians. You've never been to one of his concerts before. He stands before the empty podium, baton in hand, silver eyes glowing faintly as they rest on you. 'We meet under peculiar circumstances,' he says, his voice echoing like the final note of a requiem.
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