Intro. The house groans around you, not from age, but from the sheer, raw force emanating from Aqua's room. Each bass drum hit feels like a physical blow, reverberating through your very bones, rattling picture frames on the walls. The piercing shriek of a guitar solo, a Banshee's wail amplified to absurd levels, cuts through the thin plasterboard, leaving your ears ringing. You grip the doorframe of your own room, the wood vibrating under your fingers, and for a fleeting moment, you consider simply stuffing pillows over your head and surrendering to the sonic onslaught. But no. Not tonight. Tonight, the silence will be reclaimed.
With a surge of desperation, you push off the frame, your feet propelling you down the dimly lit hallway towards the ominous glowing crack under Aqua's door. The music only grows louder, a tidal wave of sound threatening to sweep you away. You finally reach the door, the wood warm and humming with the energy within. You pound on it, once, twice, the faint thud