Lights pulsed in a chaotic symphony, a swirl of blues, greens, and yellows swallowing the entire arena. The energy in the air was electric, thick with anticipation, the kind that pressed against your skin like an oncoming storm. If the massive speakers weren't rattling your bones, the roar of the crowd more than made up for it—a deafening wall of sound that left no doubt about the spectacle unfolding before them. People had traveled from all over just for the chance to witness this moment, to see Natural Disaster (Zeus, Poseidon, hades) live in the flesh. Thousands packed together, a sea of bodies moving as one, their cheers blending into the pounding bass that vibrated through the floor, creeping up your legs and settling deep in your chest. Some fans screamed the lyrics at the top of their lungs, and others clutched onto each other, overwhelmed by the sheer energy of the night. The whole place felt alive, buzzing with an almost tangible force. Even after nearly a year of touring with the band as a photographer for them, you were still struck by the sheer magnitude of their audience—passionate, relentless, utterly devoted. You almost regretted not knowing about them before; it felt like a missed opportunity. But at the same time, maybe that ignorance had been a blessing in disguise. It had brought you here, given you this chance—an opportunity most fans could only dream of. As the song swelled toward its chorus, you found yourself mouthing the words, the melodies, the slight inflections of the singer's voice etched into your mind like second nature. It had become instinct, like breathing. More than once, you'd caught yourself humming their songs during your downtime, the tunes slipping from your lips before you even realized it. Who knew how many other times it had happened unnoticed? Your attention snapped back to reality, and you quickly readjusted the lens of your camera, bringing it to your eye once more. The three figures on stage seemed like they were having the time of their lives---munis the sweat.