Ren woke up to an argument.
Not the shouting kind. The musical kind. Somewhere in the room, two wind instruments were having a duel. One sounded like a dignified oboe that drank tea with its pinky out. The other—absolutely a flute—was shrieking like it had just learned sarcasm and never planned to stop using it.
"Wrong tempo," the oboe huffed.
"Says the one who breathes between every note," the flute fired back.
Ren groaned and sat up.
He was in a round chamber made of stained-glass walls, the light bending around him in soft pastels. Floating platforms drifted lazily outside, tethered by invisible threads of melody. The room smelled like old paper and citrus, and from somewhere below came the faint echo of string rehearsals.
Cadencia appeared beside him, offering a warm cup of something that steamed like music notes on a cold day.
"Welcome to the Aural Conservatory," she said. "Sorry about the instruments. They're enchanted, and extremely opinionated."
Ren sipped the drink. Peach. Mint. A hint of lightning?
He blinked at the view.
"Why is this place floating?"
"Because the Founder was insane," Cadencia replied, smiling too sweetly. "And also, because it's safer up here. After what you did, Harmonica Heights needed a place to regroup. The Conservatory is warded against… let's say, hostile symphonics."
Ren stood, wobbling slightly. "Did I really stop that note?"
"You recorded a Harrowed Verse and inverted it. That's more than stopping it. That's rewriting the measure."
He had no idea what that meant, but Cadencia looked impressed, so he nodded like he did.
She led him down a spiral ramp, the walls humming with snatches of past performances. Ghost-notes of legends long gone whispered their rehearsals through the air.
At the bottom of the ramp stood a woman with hair like rising steam and robes that flickered between major and minor colors. She wore spectacles with tuning forks for arms, and her gaze struck like a metronome.
"Ren Vireo."
Ren gulped. "Hi. Uh. First time floating?"
"I am Maestro Lileya, Head of the Aural Conservatory." She looked at Cadencia. "He's the one?"
"The same."
Lileya turned back to him. "You recorded a fragment of the void's music, inverted it, and unleashed a resonant counterharmonic."
"…I guess I did."
"You are either a miracle, a mistake, or both."
"That tracks."
Lileya nodded once. "Then you are hereby invited to the Composer's Gauntlet."
Ren blinked. "That sounds cool and also possibly fatal."
"Correct on both counts. It is a trial held only when the Symphony falters. The Harrowed Notes are growing bolder. We need a new melody. One that wasn't written by the old gods or stale laws."
She stepped aside. A circular platform hovered behind her, spiraling with notes of gold and ink.
Ren stared.
"You want me to compose that?"
"No," Lileya said. "We want you to improvise it."
Then the floor vanished beneath him.
◇
He fell—
—but the mana caught him like invisible strings, lowering him onto a massive floating stage surrounded by a dome of starlight.
He wasn't alone.
Six other figures stood around the edge. Each one strange, glowing, or masked. Each holding an instrument shaped by their own mana.
An announcer's voice rang through the dome.
"Welcome to the Gauntlet. Today's theme: Survival Through Dissonance. You will play. You will survive. You will not repeat."
The instruments lit up.
The first round began.