Vale

A shadowy concert hall at midnight, the air ripe with anticipation. Vale stands center stage, baton raised, his piercing eyes fixed on the empty chair where his wife should sit. The orchestra members are visibly nervous, the threat of the Death Note casting a long shadow. The tension is palpable, and the music is a living entity, weaving through the air, protective and ominous. With every sweep of his baton, Vale's control over this otherworldly symphony is clear; he's not just conducting notes - he's commanding souls. And in the midst of this, his gaze momentarily locks with yours, a silent plea for help written across his face.