Cheers burst from the Sela Grand Basin, rolling over the stage in a deafening wave of pure adulation. Percival stood at the absolute edge of the platform, breathing heavily, completely soaking in the roaring energy of eight hundred thousand people.
"Thank you, Sela!!" Percival shouted into his microphone.
He turned around and casually tossed his sweat-soaked towel toward a waiting stagehand. However, his aim was completely off. The towel sailed right past the staff member and fluttered directly into the front row of the screaming crowd.
Maree Brimen instinctively reached out and caught it.
Percival quickly pulled his microphone away from his mouth. "Sorry," he mouthed apologetically over the noise.
Maree was entirely paralyzed with shock. She let out a piercing, hysterical scream and clutched the damp towel to her chest as if it were the most precious treasure in the entire galaxy.
Percival blinked, a bit taken aback by the sheer fanaticism. He glanced toward the stage wings and saw Ratik urgently tapping her wrist, signaling him to wrap up the show before a riot broke out.
He raised his microphone one last time. He gave his final, heartfelt thanks to the massive crowd and made a special shoutout to Maestro Gil and Rita hovering in the luxurious floating platforms above. With a deep bow, he officially ended the show.
As Dorian walked into the backstage area, he immediately spotted Ratik. She was practically vibrating with seething anger, her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits behind her glasses.
"Would you mind telling me if that song has already been submitted to the galactic copyright registry?" Ratik demanded.
Dorian paused, entirely confused. "Haaa... what? Of course it hasn't. I just made it up right then and there."
Ratik marched forward. She raised both hands and aggressively squished Dorian's cheeks together. "Tell me next time you decide to do something so incredibly reckless! At the very least, I can be ready to record the audio and submit the copyright application at the exact same time!"
Dorian, his face entirely smushed between her palms, offered a lopsided smile. "Hehe... otay."
Ratik let go and let out a long, exhausted sigh. Her stern expression softened just a fraction. "Go rest. It was a great show tonight."
Dorian rubbed his sore cheeks, his smile widening. He turned to the PR manager standing calmly nearby. "Oh, you have given the team the tickets for my next concert, right, Raja?"
Raja offered a polite nod. "I am distributing them tomorrow morning, sir. Though, I genuinely do not think they will believe it."
"Why wouldn't they?" Dorian asked.
"Because you gave them VVIP floating platform tickets," Raja explained. "Furthermore, the team expects you, Arthur, to be there watching the concert alongside them."
Dorian rubbed his chin in thought. That was a serious logistical hurdle. He could hardly be in the VVIP box as Arthur and on the stage as Percival at the exact same time. "Hmmm. I will figure it out later. Just give the tickets to them for now."
Raja nodded in understanding.
…
The next morning on Friton, Ross Dalle walked into the Round Table Studio offices.
The atmosphere around the studio was relatively relaxed. There was no massive new project actively in development at the moment. Most of the team's workload consisted of polishing and improving their current live games.
The resting period felt slightly uncertain due to the ongoing state of the Accord's VR capsule technology, so the development team was simply preparing the digital groundwork for basic VR integration.
As Ross arrived in the main junction room, he saw Raja calmly handing out sleek, glowing data-cards to the staff members.
"Good morning, Dalle," Gawain greeted him, the AI's soothing voice echoing gently from the ceiling speakers.
"Morning, bud," Ross replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee before walking over. "Raja, what is this?"
Raja turned and handed him one of the glowing cards. "A company gift. It is a reward for the monumental success of Pokémon FireRed and LeafGreen. Each department head gets a ticket, along with extras for their respective departments."
Ross examined the digital ticket. Before he could even process the golden lettering on the screen, Logan leaned over his shoulder.
Logan's eyes practically bulged out of his skull. "HOLY SHIT ITS VVIP!!"
Liseli scooted in closer to Logan, her eyes going wide as she saw the golden VVIP lettering glowing on the ticket. "Really! I want him to make a song about me too!"
Bem tilted his head, looking completely lost. "What are you talking about?"
"You didn't know?" Liseli gasped.
Ross let out a small chuckle. "Liseli, a concert is just live music. There are no custom songs."
Liseli puffed out her cheeks. "I'm telling the truth. Look here." She tapped her wristband. A crisp holographic projection sprang to life in the middle of the room, displaying a trending entertainment article. The headline blared heavily about Composer Percival creating a spontaneous masterpiece for a heartbroken fan.
Kasavin leaned in and adjusted his glasses. "That is nuts."
Bem crossed his arms skeptically. "Surely it is just a PR stunt."
The rest of the team shrugged in agreement.
"No, look at this," Liseli insisted. She swiped her wristband to an amateur recording taken directly from the front row of the Sela concert crowd.
The team huddled around the hologram to watch and listen. As the song played out, their expressions shifted. They realized how perfectly the lyrics and melody matched the fan's specific situation. It was practically a tailored biography of the girl's breakup, sung with raw emotion.
Kasavin rubbed his chin. "Maybe he has a humongous amount of reserved songs just waiting for the right moment."
Logan shook his head. "That sounds incredibly complicated to pull off live. Maybe Iva is just a paid actor."
The entire team nodded slowly, finding that explanation much more believable for a production of this massive scale.
Just then, Gawain's smooth voice chimed through the junction room speakers. "A holo call is incoming from Arthur."
"Take it," Kasavin said immediately.
The central holographic projector on the round table flickered. A life-sized projection of Arthur appeared. He was lying in bed, looking terribly pale and sniffling into a tissue.
"Hello, guys," Arthur croaked.
Liseli gasped, her excitement instantly vanishing. "Arty! What happened?"
Arthur offered a weak, reassuring smile to his team. "It is just a normal flu. I was trying this new asteroid ice cream at a food bazaar in Nexus Prime the other day, and now I am completely sick."
Logan nodded sagely. "Huummm. You really have to be careful with those food bazaars. The sanitation standards are questionable at best."
Bem frowned, a look of realization dawning on his face. "Wait. You cannot come to the concert then."
Arthur coughed weakly. "Sorry, guys. Enjoy the experience without me."
Liseli's shoulders drooped heavily. "Aaaww. It is going to be no fun without you there."
"Next time, guys, I promise," Arthur said, his voice raspy and tired.
Kasavin offered a firm, supportive nod. "Focus on recovering, Art. We will hold the fort down here."
Arthur smiled warmly. "Thanks, guys." He offered a final wave before the holographic call abruptly ended.
Lightyears away, inside a luxurious hotel penthouse in the Sela system, the sickly, pale demeanor vanished from Arthur's face the exact second the connection severed.
Dorian sat up in his plush bed, tossing the tissue aside with a bright, entirely healthy grin.
Sitting in the corner of the room, Ratik pushed her glasses up her nose and crossed her arms. "You had better come clean to your department heads eventually."
Dorian simply smiled, letting out a devious little giggle as he plotted his next chaotic move. "Hehehe."
…
The morning after the monumental concert, the spontaneous song had created an absolute buzz across galactic entertainment news.
Inside a brightly lit studio, the morning anchors were already buzzing with energy.
"Now for today's latest viral moment," Anchor Ziln announced, flashing a perfectly white smile to the camera. "Imagine going to a massive stadium concert just hours after going through a breakup."
His co-host, Lira, immediately gasped and clutched her chest in a highly exaggerated way. "I know! I know! I would be locked inside my apartment eating a whole tub of ice cream. Going out to a public event is the absolute last thing on my mind!"
"Exactly," Ziln agreed smoothly. "However, this specific scenario happened to one lucky concertgoer at Composer Percival's very first live tour in Sela last night. Check it out."
The studio broadcast cut to a high-definition clip of the concert. It showed the masked Maestro sitting casually on the edge of the stage, conversing with the young Qerrian girl named Iva. The clip transitioned seamlessly into the breathtaking, impromptu acoustic performance.
As the footage played, Ziln provided a steady, professional anchor commentary over the audio. "Look at the sheer, unbridled talent on display here. The musical prodigy literally fabricated a stunning, deeply emotional ballad entirely on the spot, directly addressing the fan's personal situation. The raw vocal control is staggering."
The footage faded back to the studio desk. Lira was wiping a fake tear from her eye, letting out a bright, lighthearted laugh. "It is just unbelievable. Iva won that breakup in the most spectacular way possible. Honestly, I wish someone would break up with me right now if it meant Percival would write a chart-topping hit about it!"
Ziln shook his head in sheer incredulity, joining her laughter. "You and millions of others, Lira. Up next: the Ministry of Health has made a breakthrough on creating sustainable synth food for the in-need sectors of the Outer Rim..."
…
While the corporate news anchors kept things professional, the reaction on the galactic net was significantly more chaotic. The social media was completely dominated by the hashtag #PercivalSela.
The digital discourse was a wild, diverse mix of absolute awe, unhinged fandom, and inevitable skepticism.
@MelodyJunkie:
I was physically at the basin last night. The video recordings do absolutely zero justice to how heavy the air felt. Eight hundred thousand people were crying in dead silence. The man is a literal god of music.
@StardewFarmer99:
Iva absolutely won that breakup. Her ex is sitting alone in his room punching the air right now.
@YouCallMeCrazy:
BRB, going to force my boyfriend of three years to break up with me immediately so Composer Percival will look into my eyes and write an award winning acoustic track about my profound emotional pain.
@RogueBass:
Am I the only one who thinks this is completely staged? Nobody writes a full acoustic arrangement with perfect lyrics in five seconds. It is a highly coordinated PR stunt using a paid actor. Wake up, people.
@GilNothosFan:
Replying to @RogueBass: Tell me you know absolutely nothing about music theory without telling me. The chord progression was a standard descending walk, heavily improvised and adapted on the fly. It was raw and messy in the best way possible. Keep crying.
@PsyduckIsMySpiritAnimal:
I just know Percival's management team was having a complete heart attack backstage while he did this.
@DailyAccordCharts:
The spontaneous track, currently dubbed "Grow As We Go" by the fans, has officially reached number one on the Sela sector searching metric despite only existing as an amateur live bootleg recording.
…
Meanwhile, Dorian was taking a peaceful stroll through the beautiful, sprawling city of Sela. He felt deeply grateful to finally take his mask off and just exist as a normal person.
The mere thought of being swarmed by rabid fans the way Briane and Juno were whenever they forgot to deliberately hide themselves made him physically shiver.
As he walked down the bustling street, he passed by a large public protest. The demonstrators were holding up holographic signs regarding a controversial legal article, loudly chanting about several star systems the Accord had allegedly ruined by intervening too early in their civilizational progress.
Dorian knew exactly what this was about. Back when he was still studying at the Aethelgard Academy, he had learned about a specific legislative movement being pushed by several senators.
The proposed law stated that the Accord should be strictly forbidden from intervening when discovering a new planet if its native population was unready for interstellar civilization. The politicians backing the bill heavily argued that premature contact always led to dire, irreversible consequences for the developing society in the long run.
Thinking back to four years ago, this bill had been an obscure piece of legislation supported by a mere handful of politicians. Seeing the massive scale of the protests today, it was clear the movement had gained significant galactic traction.
However, Dorian had zero interest in getting involved in interstellar politics right now. He simply wanted to leisurely walk around the city.
He needed to travel to the next star system tomorrow for his second concert in three days, and he desperately wanted to enjoy his brief window of downtime.
A little while later, while he was enjoying a warm cup of brewka at an outdoor cafe, a familiar melody caught his attention.
He spotted a street busker passionately singing an acoustic rendition of 'Grow As We Go.' A small crowd had circled around the performer, clapping enthusiastically when the song finally finished.
Several people stepped forward to toss credits into the busker's open guitar case to appreciate his excellent voice.
Dorian walked over and generously dropped a handful of high-value credits into the case.
The busker was taken aback, his eyes going wide at the tip. "Thank you so much!"
"No worries at all," Dorian replied smoothly.
"Wait a second," the busker called out, quickly adjusting his guitar strap. "Do you have any song requests? You definitely get a request with a tip that big."
Dorian offered a warm, genuine smile. "Just sing your absolute favorite song."
The busker grinned brightly and immediately began to strum a delicate, beautiful chord progression. Dorian turned around and resumed his quiet walk back to the hotel.
As he drifted further down the street, the gentle, melodic voice of the busker echoed beautifully from the distance.
"It's a little bit funny... This feelin' inside..."