The applause had faded.
The crowd had dispersed.
The stage lights were cold again.
By the time the echoes faded and students shuffled back to class, only three remained behind.
They stood instead in the principal's office - a room that suddenly felt far too small.
The principal leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes gleaming with interest.
"I'll keep this simple," he said. "How would you three like to represent this school? What you did at the assembly today was exceptional."
Ethan didn't even let him finish. "Hell yeah!"
Damien pumped a fist. "We're in!"
Dante's voice came calm and level."We decline."
The room froze.
Damien blinked.
Ethan slowly turned his head. "...You what?"
Dante didn't flinch. "We weren't the winners of the audition. We stepped in because of an accident. That performance wasn't ours to claim. It wouldn't be right to represent the school based on that."
Ethan shot up from his seat, chair scraping violently against the floor. "Dante, what the hell are you saying?" His jaw was tight, veins visible along his temple. "Do you even hear yourself?"
The principal rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Well... he does have a point," he admitted. "I hadn't considered that."
Damien looked like he might implode.
"But," the principal continued, raising a finger, "I was informed you lost earlier due to faulty instruments."
The brothers went still.
"How about this," he said. "You stay after school and redo the audition. Proper equipment. Same conditions. A fair shot."
"Redo the audition?" Damien echoed, disbelief mixing with hope.
"A clean slate," the principal confirmed. "If you win fairly, the position is yours."
Silence.
Damien looked at Ethan.
Ethan looked at Damien.
A silent agreement passed between them.
"We'll do it," they said together.
Dante exhaled through his nose. "That's acceptable."
The office door shut behind them. Damien spun on Dante immediately.
"What was that in there?! You almost destroyed our chance!"
"It wasn't ours," Dante replied evenly. "Now it is. There's a difference."
Damien opened his mouth to argue - then paused.
He hated when Dante made sense. "...Fine," he muttered. "So we're staying after school."
Ethan suddenly threw an arm around both their shoulders. "Obviously we are. We're not losing twice."
Dante removed Ethan's arm with visible disgust. "I have class."
"Oh right, me too - wait up-"
Damien grabbed Ethan's sleeve. "You're not going."
Ethan frowned. "And why not?"
"I might've told the teacher we both dropped the class."
"...You WHAT?"
"It was Dante's condition for joining the band," Damien said defensively.
Ethan's eye twitched. "Dante that cocky-"
"Language," Dante muttered as he walked away.
Evening settled over the school like a slow exhale.
Most of the students had already gone home. The parking lot thinned. The chatter faded. Only a few lights still burned inside the building - the ones reserved for clubs, detention... and second chances.
Inside the audition room, three brothers adjusted straps, tuned strings, and tested mics.
Outside the gates-
They arrived.
The three knights stood motionless beneath the dim glow of a streetlamp, armor faintly reflecting the artificial light. The modern world hummed around them - engines, distant laughter, the buzz of electricity - but none of it belonged to them.
They stared at the school building.
Windows. Steel railings. Brick and glass.
"It resembles a noble house," the red-haired knight murmured, studying its structure. "Yet it lacks banners. Lacks sigils."
The pale blue-haired knight tilted her head slightly. "This realm builds fortresses for its young."
The tallest among them stepped forward. Her presence alone seemed to weigh on the air.
"Whatever they call it is irrelevant," she said calmly. "The Kael'Zerath resonates within these walls."
The rune etched into her gauntlet pulsed once. Soft. Hungry.
"He is inside."
They moved toward the gate.
"Hey!"
A security guard stepped out from his post, flashlight raised. He looked them up and down, confused.
"And who exactly are you supposed to be? Some kind of medieval fan club? There's no event tonight."
The knights did not answer.
The tallest one gave the slightest nod.
The pale blue-haired knight lifted her hand - not dramatically, not violently. Just a subtle motion of her fingers.
The air shifted.
The guard's words died in his throat. His eyes rolled back. He collapsed before he even understood what had happened.
Unconscious.
The knights stepped over him without another glance.
Inside, the hallways stretched long and metallic under sterile lights. Lockers lined the walls like rows of sealed vaults. The faint echo of distant music traveled through the corridors.
The red-haired knight brushed her fingers along one of the lockers.
"Cold metal... shaped with precision. No forge marks."
"This realm shapes iron without flame," the pale blue-haired one whispered.
"Do not be distracted," the tallest knight said sharply. "The resonance strengthens."
She closed his eyes briefly.
And there it was-
A pulse.
Not physical.
Not audible.
But powerful.
Like a heartbeat behind reality itself. "He is close."
They turned a corner.
Music became clearer now - the low hum of an amplifier, the testing of a drum pedal, the scratch of a guitar string being tuned.
They stopped outside a set of double doors.
Inside-
Dante stood near the soundboard, adjusting levels with focused precision.
Damien bounced lightly on his heels, gripping the microphone like it was already his stage.
Ethan rolled his shoulders, fingers flexing over the strings, energy barely contained.
They laughed at something small. Ordinary.
Unaware.
The tallest knight slowly raised his hand and pointed through the narrow glass window in the door.
"There," she said, voice low and certain.
The rune on her gauntlet flared brighter.
"There stands the bearer of the Kael'Zerath."