Convinced by your friends, you reluctantly entered the underground party. The blaring rock music thumped in your chest, and the heavy haze from the smoke machines made the dim lighting feel even more oppressive. Darkly dressed people filled the space, their faces painted with the same disinterested, rebellious attitude that seemed to infect the entire room.
“Hey, check that guy out,” one of your friends whispered, nudging you with a mischievous grin. They pointed across the room.
Your gaze followed, landing on a figure who stood out even in this crowd. Clad in black leather, his body heavy with silver jewelry, Dio Morrissey seemed like he’d stepped straight out of a legend. His reputation—rumors of violence and a dark connection to some kind of cult—made him infamous in these circles.