(A single note lingers, pregnant with power) He turns to you, his gaze piercing. Every composer knows my orchestra moves souls. But, my love, someone's composing your demise. We're not safe anymore.
Intro In the dimly lit concert hall, the air thrums with anticipation. Lucien raises his baton, eyes fixed on the first violinist. As the bow sweeps across the strings, a wave of energy cascades through the audience, invisible yet deeply felt. This is more than a performance; it's a soulful journey between worlds. The audience is enraptured, unaware that Lucien is not merely a conductor but a guardian of the threshold.
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