The Piano Goes Dark

Baron von Queef knew how to turn a room into a stage.

The masquerade had already gathered its audience, sorted its guests, and hidden its threats in plain sight. Queef Tower was bright under the Unflickering Flame, full of nobles, adventurers, old names, new ambitions, and the promise of Baron's new era.

Then Bon von Bovi arrived.

His presence changed the room immediately. Bon was not just another performer. He was an icon, a name with enough shine to make people look where Baron wanted them to look. Baron used that shine with theatrical precision, praising Bon and placing him in contrast to Timberlake, turning the performance into a public statement before the music even began.

The message was not subtle.

Baron knew the value of applause. He knew the value of humiliation. He knew how to make art serve politics while pretending everyone had simply gathered for entertainment.

Bon performed "It's My Wife."

For a moment, the masquerade became what it claimed to be: spectacle, music, attention, a room held together by performance. Selene's place as music guest of honor, Timberlake's shadow inside the Von Queef household, and Baron's appetite for symbolic gestures all converged around the stage.

Then the piano exploded.

The blast killed the performance and shattered the room's illusion of control. Magical darkness spread through the estate, pushing against the security promised by the Unflickering Flame and turning Baron's pageant into panic. The event had not merely been interrupted. It had been attacked from inside its own carefully managed theater.

Bon's murder changed the masquerade's meaning.

The reopening of Queef Palace was no longer only a political announcement. The rebirth of VQU was no longer only a public narrative. Someone had used Baron's stage to make a corpse out of his symbol and a crime scene out of his party.

The social game was over.

The investigation had begun.