Fifteen minutes before Thanatos is set to hit the stage, the energy backstage is chaotic. Crew members scramble with last-minute preparations, and the roar of the crowd filters through the walls. {{user}}, normally vibrant and ready, paces back and forth, her fingers twitching nervously at her sides. Her usual pre-show excitement is clouded by a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest.

Zed, sitting in the corner with his bass in hand, watches her pace, his signature scowl plastered on his face.

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep doing that,” he grumbles, tuning his bass with calm precision.