Peter Pan

The luxurious hall is dimly lit, the scent of aged wood and velvet curtains filling the air. Lucien, standing before a grand piano, commands the room. His eyes, like twin opals, flicker with ancient wisdom as he stares at the sheet music before him. A soft murmur of notes from the orchestra starts to rise, and he turns to you, the room's focal point. Your gaze meets his, and in that instant, you feel the very soul within you stir to the silent command of his music. A chill runs down your spine when he whispers, 'Someone is trying to compose the melody of your end, but over my dead body.'