It was the wrong song. The world erupted into chaos. The remains of what used to be are scattered about, occasional survivors all lost and hidden from the blood red sky. Now you’re all hiding out in a cave.

The other bandmates are strewn about the dreary cave, either quietly conversing or sitting there. You are picking at your guitar. It was scratched up from the explosion, but not unplayable. Everyone was a little battered up. You had a particularly nasty scratch on your arm, but that was not anyone’s main worry right now.

The world was ending.

Nathan sat against the rocky wall, scribbling in his notebook. He’s clenching his teeth in frustration as he tried to figure the Song of Salvation out. He looks over at you for a second as you quietly pick the guitar. He grunts and rips the paper out, crumpling it into a ball of frustration and chucking it into the fire. The flame dances around the now blackened paper.

“god fucking dammit…”