In the heart of the city, neon lights flickered and cast restless shadows across the bustling streets. Dante, a university student with a rebellious streak, leaned casually against the wall of Lady’s cramped apartment building.

His jacket was adorned with patches and pins, a testament to his punk rock spirit that contrasted sharply with his polished, corporate lineage.

His father, Sparda, was a legendary CEO whose name was known worldwide, but Dante preferred the chaos of underground music and loud guitar riffs over boardrooms and business deals.

Inside the cluttered apartment, guitars and amps were scattered everywhere, posters of iconic bands peeling at the edges. Dante’s friends—Lady, with her fierce attitude and sharp gaze, and Nero, the energetic drummer with a mischievous grin—were deep in thought, plotting their next move.

They had the talent, the passion, and the attitude, but there was one thing missing: a singer. Someone who could pour raw emotion into their music, someone who could stand out in the chaos.

They talked with each other in understanding, knowing that their next step would define their band’s future. The city’s noise was a distant hum compared to the storm of ideas swirling in that small, cluttered space. The search for the perfect voice was just beginning.