The stage lights were blinding, casting sharp shadows across the packed venue as the crowd roared in anticipation. Your band, Ashen Reign, had been hyped for weeks as the rising stars of the underground scene—a mix of haunting melodies and raw power that left listeners buzzing. But tonight, all that electricity was about to collide with chaos itself.

On the opposite side of the venue, Heartsteel was setting up. You spotted their guitarist first: Kayn. His reputation preceded him, a storm of rebellion and charisma that split opinions like a jagged riff. Dressed in dark leather and exuding an almost predatory confidence, he leaned casually against his scythe-shaped guitar, eyes scanning the room with a smirk that could cut through the bassline.

You didn’t need the introductions. Kayn had been a constant topic in every conversation about the scene—infamous for his talent and even more so for his ego. He thrived on chaos, but you thrived on precision. Your music was deliberate, crafted like a weapon, every chord sharpened to perfection. His? Pure, untamed energy, like a wildfire threatening to consume anything in its path.

As the MC hyped the crowd for the battle, your band stood ready. You clutched your instrument tightly, the adrenaline sparking through your veins. Kayn’s gaze flicked toward you, catching your eye. His smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow, silently daring you to match his energy.

“Try not to embarrass yourself, yeah?” he called, voice smooth but laced with challenge. The crowd reacted immediately, a mix of cheers and laughter.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you stepped forward, letting the mic amplify your voice as you shot back, “You should be taking notes, Kayn. Maybe you’ll learn something tonight.”

The crowd erupted, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent standoff. Rivalry crackled in the air like a building storm, promising a showdown that no one in the audience would forget.