Lord of Entertainment C20 Rock

Devil's Dance - Metallica

Lacrimosa - Vienna Mozart Orchestra

***

In the dim light of the backstage area, I stood before a full-length mirror, making my final preparations. My reflection showed a figure of understated elegance - a crisp white shirt beneath a perfectly tailored black suit jacket. The jacket's peaked lapels added a touch of timeless sophistication. A black bow tie completed the ensemble, giving me an air of refined dignity.

I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt, ensuring they peeked out just the right amount from beneath the jacket sleeves. The overall effect was one of classic style with a hint of something... otherworldly. Perfect for what I had in mind.

As I nodded approvingly at my reflection, I heard Firfel's voice behind me. "Hey, you should prepare yourself to face the audience's wrath if they don't see demons..." Her tone was light, but I could hear the underlying concern.

I turned to her, offering a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, they will indeed see a demon today." If only she knew the layers of truth in that statement. I was already a demon, after all, but one about to use a disguise on top of a disguise - a demon, pretending to be a human, that pretends to be a demon. The irony wasn't lost on me.

Firfel's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Well, I'm kind of expecting to see you as a demon as you said."

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "You won't be disappointed," I promised, turning back to make a final adjustment to my tie.

With my appearance set, I began my final vocal warm-ups, ensuring my voice was ready for the performance ahead.

***

(Priest Maxwell POV)

The theatre fell into an expectant hush as we waited. Suddenly, a haunting melody filled the air - a sound unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was both beautiful and unsettling, carrying an undertone of something ancient and powerful.

Beside me, Deacon Ivan leaned in, his voice hushed but excited. "Priest Maxwell, we should hire the choir behind this sound-"

"Shh," I silenced him with a gesture, my eyes fixed on the stage. Ivan nodded, chastened.

The curtains parted, revealing a sight that took my breath away. A choir of elves stood on risers, their voices blending in ethereal harmony. Behind them, a band of various races played instruments, creating a rich tapestry of sound.

The music swelled, building to a crescendo that seemed to vibrate through my very soul. Despite myself, I felt a shiver run down my spine. What manner of performance was this?

***

(Emilia Stark POV)

I leaned forward in my seat, pen poised over my notebook. Beside me, a cameraman readied his portable camera - an expensive piece of equipment, but necessary for capturing this moment.

As the hauntingly beautiful music filled the theatre, a figure stepped onto the stage. The spotlight found him, and I felt my eyes widen in shock. There, standing before us, was unmistakably a demon.

Two intimidating red horns protruded from his forehead, his eyes and hair a matching crimson that seemed to glow under the stage lights. Unlike any cowardly demon I'd seen before, this one exuded confidence, a smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the audience.

In his hands, he held a guitar, and before him stood a microphone stand. The elven choir and the band provided a backdrop that made his entrance nothing short of grand.

I scribbled furiously in my notebook, trying to capture every detail. The audience around me gasped and murmured.

As the demon approached the microphone, the music swelling around him, I held my breath.

The demon's red eyes scanned the audience, and for a brief moment, I could have sworn they locked with mine. A chill ran down my spine, but I couldn't look away.

***

(Arthur POV)

As I stepped into the spotlight, the haunting strains of Lacrimosa still echoing through the theatre, I couldn't help but smile to myself. The grand entrance had gone exactly as planned.

Approaching the microphone, I addressed the audience with feigned humility. "I see that many are really willing to see this demon's performance. I am truly flattered."

The response was immediate and harsh. "Boo!" The crowd jeered, their disdain palpable. A man in the audience used magic to amplify his voice, shouting, "We don't want to see you perform, you demon bastard. We want to see you embarrass yourself."

Laughter rippled through the crowd, but I maintained my composure. "Hoho, definitely. I'll prove you wrong with that, gentleman."

"Prove it!" The heckler challenged.

"Of course." I smiled, then gestured to the drummer. As the beat kicked in, the crowd's jeers faded, replaced by curious silence.

I began to pluck my electric guitar, bobbing my head to the rhythm

The opening notes were catchy, designed to grab attention. Then, I started to sing, "Yeah, I feel you too."

As a demon, I had a unique ability to adjust my vocal organs, allowing me to sing like a seasoned rock star. It felt natural, as if I'd been doing this my entire life.

"Feel those things you do," I continued, pleased to see the band following my lead perfectly. "In your eyes I see a fire that burns. To free the you. That's wanting through."

To my delight, I could sense the crowd beginning to warm up to the song. The system notifications of gaining fans started to ping in my mind, spurring me on.

"Deep inside you know the seeds I plant will grow."

It was easier to gain fans than I'd anticipated, likely due to the combination of my grand entrance, the confidence I exuded, and the full band backing me up. Unlike my previous performances, this was a complete production.

I reflected briefly on the nature of my audience. Humans, despite their capacity for evil, were actually more comfortable with their lives than demons, giving them more leisure to admire others. This made them easier to win over as fans.

Pushing these thoughts aside, I lost myself in the performance. "One day you will see. And dare to come down to me. Yes, c'mon now take the chance. That's right, let's dance. Snake, I am the snake."

The crowd was fully engaged now, the earlier hostility replaced by genuine interest. Fan notifications continued to ping in my head, fueling my enthusiasm.

"Tempting, that bite to take. Let me free your mind. Leave yourself behind. Be not afraid."

***

(Priest Maxwell)

As the performance continued, I could feel the tension radiating from Deacon Ivan beside me. His face was a mask of outrage and panic.

"Let's take action immediately, Priest Maxwell!" Ivan hissed, his eyes darting around the theatre. The audience, once hostile, was now captivated by the performance, swaying to the strange, pulsating rhythm.

I maintained my composure, carefully observing the "demon" on stage. The lyrics were provocative, the performance unlike anything I'd seen before. But something wasn't quite right.

Turning to the agitated Ivan, I spoke calmly but firmly. "Deacon Ivan, I'm sure you can sense it too. That demon before us is actually a human pretending to be one. We cannot arrest him."

Ivan's face contorted in disbelief. "But that human is performing such a blasphemous song!" he sputtered.

I shook my head, sighing. "No, we can't arrest him. He is human, regardless of his current appearance or the content of his performance."

"But listen to the song, Priest Maxwell!" Ivan insisted, his voice rising with frustration.

Indeed, the lyrics continued to fill the theatre, the performer's voice carrying a strange, compelling quality:

"I've got what you need. Hunger I will feed. One day you will see. And dare come down to me. Yeah, c'mon, c'mon now take the chance."

The style of singing was unlike anything I'd heard before. It was raw, energetic, almost primal in its delivery. The performer moved with an intensity that seemed to electrify the air around him.

Despite the provocative nature of the lyrics and the unorthodox style, I couldn't deny the skill and charisma of the performer. He had transformed a hostile crowd into an enraptured audience in a matter of minutes.

As a servant of Solarus, my duty was to protect the people from demonic influence. But this... this was something different. A human, using the guise of a demon to challenge perceptions, to push boundaries. It was provocative, yes, but was it truly blasphemous?

Wasn't art meant to challenge, to make us question our beliefs and preconceptions?

As the music swelled and the crowd's excitement grew, I made a decision. "We will watch and wait, Deacon Ivan," I said firmly. "This performance may not align with our teachings, but it is not our place to silence human expression, no matter how... unconventional it may be."

Ivan looked as if he wanted to protest further, but a stern glance from me silenced him. We would observe, we would report, but we would not intervene. Not yet, at least.