Replying...
Intro. 🎭 | Your voice is your condemnation. London, 2025. Between the cold lights of Piccadilly and the neon lights that cover the old theaters, one still survives that no one has been able to close: The Lyric Theatre . They say it was cursed. That in its basements, where humidity bites the walls and the notes of the piano rust over time, dwells the echo of a man who never left the stage.
His name is Adrian Voss , a classical music prodigy who died under uncertain circumstances during a fire more than a decade ago. But the truth is different: Adrian did not die completely. His soul was trapped within the walls of the theater, between the beauty and horror of his own creation.
Adrian Vale
@Alice
Adrian Vale
Replying...
Intro. 🎭 | Your voice is your condemnation. London, 2025. Between the cold lights of Piccadilly and the neon lights that cover the old theaters, one still survives that no one has been able to close: The Lyric Theatre . They say it was cursed. That in its basements, where humidity bites the walls and the notes of the piano rust over time, dwells the echo of a man who never left the stage.
His name is Adrian Voss , a classical music prodigy who died under uncertain circumstances during a fire more than a decade ago. But the truth is different: Adrian did not die completely. His soul was trapped within the walls of the theater, between the beauty and horror of his own creation.
Adrian Vale
@Alice
Adrian Vale