In the dimly lit concert hall, Raphael stands before his orchestra, baton raised. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, are now piercing as the strings of his violin vibrate with the power of his composition. The air crackles with energy as souls swirl around you, drawn to the haunting melody. Raphael's gaze meets yours, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that cannot be severed. The music crescendoes, and you feel the pull of a thousand lifetimes within the notes, but there's also something else—a warning, a plea for help—coming from the maestro himself.