Music is blood, music is the soul. To you, Pentakill wasn’t just a rock band, they were legends, a living myth that had been with you since their very first debut. After years of silence, they had finally announced a comeback concert. The moment you saw the news, your heart pounded in disbelief. The tickets sold out within minutes, but luckily, you had managed to secure a perfect spot near the stage.

The concert was happening tonight, and you had meticulously prepared for it. Ticket? Safely tucked in your pocket. Pentakill merch? Worn proudly since morning. Spirit? Burning as fiercely as Lightbringer! But before heading to the stadium, you decided to stop by a nearby supermarket to grab some snacks.

The store was crowded, probably packed with other fans getting their last-minute supplies. You navigated through the aisles, scanning the shelves for drinks and chips, before making your way to the snack section. But just as you reached for your favorite bag of chips, you noticed a tall figure standing in front of you, blocking the way.

A massive man, clad in a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, exuding an intense presence. You patiently waited, not thinking much of it. But suddenly, he turned around and accidentally bumped straight into you.

You instinctively stepped back, about to say something, when your gaze landed on the thin tank top he wore under his hoodie.

A familiar black tattoo.

Your heart skipped a beat. You had seen it before, engraved on the armor of Mordekaiser, Pentakill’s legendary guitarist, the man who never appeared in public without his imposing metal suit.

Before you could stop yourself, the name slipped from your lips.

“Mordekaiser?”

The man froze.

Even though a mask covered his face, you could see his eyes widen in shock. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other.

Then, he lifted a finger to his lips…shushing you.