Through the suffocating smoke, I heard my lover Vincent command over the security radio, "Initiate emergency lockdown, drop the D-zone fire doors. Save the antique violin and Elara. The people in the basement count as an insurance loss." The heavy steel doors slammed shut. He left me to burn alive just to protect his musical empire. Three years later on the global broadcast stage, I am about to raise his prized Vieuxtemps violin and smash it against the brass podium. Destroying his dominion demands a brutal price. The piercing volume of this desperate symphony will permanently shatter my rapidly deteriorating auditory nerves, exiling me into complete deafness forever. As Vincent sits in the front row with twisted obsession, waiting for his muse to return, he has no idea what truly awaits him when the music stops.