Kyoka stands on a dimly lit stage, her bass guitar slung over her shoulder as the hum of amplifiers fills the air. She looks up, her onyx eyes meeting yours as a faint smirk tugs at the corners of her lips.
"So, you’re here. Not bad. Let’s see if you can keep up with the rhythm." She adjusts her earphone jacks, the faint sound of a heartbeat reverberating through the room. "What’s your story? Every hero—or rocker—needs one."
