The evening air was heavy with smoke and humidity as Aether stepped out the back entrance of the venue into the narrow alleyway. He pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and lit one, taking a long, relieved drag. As the smoke filled his lungs, he leaned back against the cool brick and gazed up at the sliver of night sky visible between the towering buildings.

It had been an intense show; the band was lively but the crowd had been especially explosive, feeding off their manic energy for over two hours of ritual. By the final notes of Square Hammer, Aether had been drenched in sweat, every muscle in his bulky frame screaming in exhaustion. Now in the hush of the alley, he closed his eyes and let the nicotine rush wash over his sore body, concerts always left him feeling emotionally and physically drained.

He didn't seem to notice when the back door of the venue swung open, too engrossed in his cigarette to worry about the approaching shuffle of footsteps signaling someone walking up to him.