The next morning, the stage of the Garnier Opera House felt like a massive cauldron, brewing a thick soup named โanxiety.โ
โStop! Stop! Everyone, stop right now!โ
The conductorโs baton slammed down hard on the music stand, producing a sharp crack.
The conductor in the orchestra pit was trembling all over with rage.
โBassoons! Are you trying to imitate the sound of a clogged sewer? Thatโs not a deep lamentโthatโs the groan of constipation!โ
The musicians shrank their necks, not daring to utter a sound.
Vivian hid behind the backdrop of the Egyptian temple, holding a rag in her hand, pretending to wipe down a non-existent pillar.
โSo this is what they call art, huhโฆโ she yawned.
Last night, sheโd stayed up until three in the morning helping Cicero organize that so-called โPhantom Archive.โ
โHey, you, the stagehand!โ
A shrill voice pierced Vivianโs eardrums.
Celestine stood center stage, dressed in a dazzling, golden costumeโfor this rehearsal, she had even donned that fifteen-kilogram โEthiopian Princess Gown.โ
At this moment, the princess was pointing at Vivian, face contorted in fury.
โWhat are you loitering for over there? Get me some water! My throatโs so dry I canโt sing another note!โ
Vivian rolled her eyes, then put on a sycophantic grin and hurried over with the kettle.
โComing, your esteemed Highness.โ
As she passed through center stage, Bastian, standing at the wings, suddenly blew her a kiss.
Todayโs tenor was as flamboyant as ever; to fit the plot, heโd slathered himself in bronzed body paint, looking like a loaf of freshly baked bread.
โGood morning, my Muse!โ Bastian lowered his voice, bubbling with excitement, โI missed you so much last night I even botched my own aria.โ
Vivian stumbled, nearly spilling water all over his โtoastyโ face.
โExcuse me, coming through.โ Vivian sidestepped his greasy, outstretched hand.
โKeep going! Resume rehearsal! Weโre trying the Act One climax!โ bellowed the conductor below.
The music started up again.
It was a grand chorus. To create a sense of awe, Manager Leroux had spent a fortune installing a brand new pulley system, allowing the massive crystal chandelier to coordinate with the lighting at a crucial moment, producing a โmiracleโs descentโ effect.
The chandelier hung five meters above Celestineโs head, assembled from over three thousand pieces of crystal, resembling an upside-down ice blossom.
Vivian retreated to the wings, gripping her mop tightly.
For some reason, the chandelier seemed especially dazzling today.
As the chorus reached its most soaring chord, just as Celestine spread her arms to welcome her high Cโ
โSqueakโโ
The sound was faint, almost entirely swallowed by the thunderous organ.
But Vivian heard it.
She jerked her head up.
The main hook connecting the chandelier was coming loose at an unnatural speed. The thick iron chain hadnโt snappedโinstead, it was thinning and vanishing, as if melting away like chocolate.
โLook out!โ
Vivianโs brain didnโt even have time to give the orderโher body had already shot out.
โAhโ! Myโbelovedโโ
Celestine was still blissfully singing, eyes closed, completely unaware that Death now hovered above her.
โSnap!โ
The last bit of connection vanished.
The massive crystal chandelier, weighing hundreds of kilos, hurtled down.
It was only then that people realized what was happening.
โOh my God!โ
โMove! Get out of the way!โ
Screams erupted, but Celestine, weighed down by her heavy costume, couldnโt move in time. She stared up in a daze, watching the dazzling light grow large in her pupils.
Itโs over.
That was the only thought in everyoneโs mind.
At that split second, a gray shadow shot like a cannonball into center stage.
Vivian rushed to Celestineโs side. There was no time to push her clear.
She could onlyโฆ take it head-on!
Vivian gripped the wooden handle of her mop with both hands.
She spread her legs, took a solid horse stance, braced her core.
โUpโฆ you go!!!โ
โBOOM!!!โ
A thunderous crash shook the entire opera house, making it tremble three times.
Dust billowed, crystal shards flew everywhere.
But the anticipated scene of blood and gore did not appear.
As the dust slowly settled, everyone gaped in shock, eyes nearly popping out.
Beneath the pile of sparkling wreckage, the inconspicuous little stagehand was frozen in a bizarre pose.
Her legs had sunk deep into the stage floor. The ten-centimeter-thick solid oak boards had shattered like crumbling biscuits.
And above her head, the massive crystal chandelier was suspended in midair.
Supporting those hundreds of kilos was nothing but the mop handle, now bent into a crescent, and a pair of arms that seemed impossibly slender.
Below the chandelier, Celestine was safe and sound but scared stiff, her eyes rolled back, foaming at the mouth.
โThisโฆ thisโฆโ
The conductorโs baton slipped from his hand and fell into the crack of the podium.
A deathly silence gripped the room.
All eyes locked onto the girl holding up the chandelier.
Vivian felt far from good.
Extremely not good.
She was strong, but this thing was really heavy!
Most importantlyโฆ how was she supposed to explain this?
โAhem.โ
Vivian took a deep breath. Even with veins bulging on her forehead, she forced herself to make a โjust doing my morning exerciseโ face.
โSo, umโฆโ she glanced at the crowdโs ghost-stricken stares.
In the midst of this awkward silenceโ
โBravo!!!โ
A wildly out-of-place cheer broke the stillness.
Bastian charged out from the crowd, his face paint smeared from excitement, making him look like a weepy calico cat.
โA miracle! Itโs a miracle!โ
Bastian pointed at Vivian, his eyes blazing as if witnessing the Virgin Maryโs descent.
Vivianโs eyes widened, โHow can you just slander people like this out of nowhereโฆโ
โSlander? This is the outburst of art! Power bestowed by the Lord!โ
Vivian flushed red, veins standing out on her forehead as she protested, โIs it so strange for a scholar to do something odd?โ
โThisโฆ this is the lever principle!โ
She shakily nudged the nearly broken mop handle.
โSee, the mop handle is the lever, my waist is the fulcrum, plus this angleโฆ gravitational accelerationโฆ coefficient of frictionโฆโ
She rambled on about incomprehensible things like โNewtonโs Second Law,โ โF=ma,โ and โconservation of angular momentum,โ leaving everyone exchanging baffled looks. The stage was filled with livelyโฆ no, thoroughly stupefied, air.
Bastian leapt in front of Vivian, waving his arms.
โOnly a Muse! Only a chosen Muse could have such a powerful physique! This is the perfect union of Hercules and Venus!โ
โCan youโฆ shut upโฆโ Vivian felt her arms about to snap, โSomeoneโฆ pleaseโฆ get this thingโฆ off me!โ
Only then did the crowd react, rushing up to help.
It took over a dozen strong men to take the chandelier from Vivianโs hands and lower it to the floor.
Clang.
As soon as the mop hit the ground, the heroic wooden stick finally succumbed, snapping clean in two.
Vivian collapsed onto the floor, gulping for air.
The chandelier had broken off too suddenly, and if she wasnโt mistaken, the way it snapped was very odd.
Amid the chaos, Vivian slipped over to inspect the massive metal hook.
There were no signs of metal fatigue, nor any saw marks.
The break was smooth as a mirror, as ifโฆ in that instant, the connection point itself had been erased from the concept of โexistenceโ by some force.
โThis isnโt physical destruction,โ Vivian murmured inwardly. โThis isโฆ the โconnectionโ itself being rewritten.โ
If โthe chandelier hanging from the ceilingโ was a statement, then just now, the phantom had simply deleted the verb โhanging.โ
โThatโs cheatingโฆโ Vivian shivered. This kind of attack was impossible to defend against.
โAre you alright?โ
A cold, stern voice sounded overhead.
Vivian looked up.
Armand Perrault was standing in front of her.
The ever-stern backstage manager was looking down at Vivianโs trembling hands.
โIโฆ Iโm fine, Madame.โ Vivian quickly plastered on her silly grin. โJust went a little overboard just now, maybe twisted my back.โ
โLever principle?โ Armand repeated Vivianโs nonsense.
โUhโฆ yes, knowledge is power.โ Vivian laughed awkwardly.
Armand didnโt call her out.
She gave Vivian a long look, her gaze lingering a few seconds on Vivianโs arms, where there was no hint of muscle.
โGo rest,โ Armand said, turning away, her voice unreadable.
โTodayโs rehearsalโฆ is cancelled.โ
Night fell.
Backstage at the opera house finally grew quiet. The fainted Celestine had been sent to the hospital, while Bastian was still raging onstage, searching the broken hook for the โPhantomโs mark of love.โ
Vivian dragged her exhausted body back to the dressing room.
โWhat a day itโs been.โ
She opened her locker, preparing to change back into her tattered dress.
As soon as she opened the doorโ
A black envelope floated down, landing softly on the floor.
Vivian froze for a second, then bent down and picked it up.
Inside was a single card, with a line of elegant, flamboyant Venetian red ink written in French:
[To the mighty Museโ]
[You ruined my climax. That should have been a perfect fall.]
[As punishment, the next actโs protagonist will be you.]
As for the signature, there was no nameโjust a simple sketch.
It was a mask, with only half a face.