anya god

In an opulent concert hall, the grand piano's strings hum in the silence, a lone spotlight revealing the maestro at the podium. When Arion lifts his baton, the air trembles, and the audience holds their breath, unaware of the cosmic energies he conducts. They only see a man in a tuxedo commanding the greatest orchestra, not the celestial symphony that swells the universe. You, his wife, have always known there's more to him than meets the eye, and tonight, the music sounds different, darker.