The courtyard of Level 188 had become a nightmare of shifting marble and blood-soaked mutations. Party Creator Alpha loomed larger with every passing second, its body convulsing and mutating violently as it fed on the rising fear in the air. New limbs sprouted, mouths opened across its torso, and acidic crimson fluid dripped from its ever-changing form.
Daniel kept the golden baton raised, conducting a steady defensive symphony to hold the entity at bay. The other Chosen fought desperately to suppress their emotions while striking at the constantly evolving horror.
Then a soft, familiar chuckle sounded directly behind them.
Everyone froze.
Even Party Creator Alpha paused its mutations for a moment.
A single figure stepped out from the shadow of a shattered window — pristine white suit untouched by blood or corruption, aristocratic smile perfectly serene.
Partygoer 0.
He stood there as though he had never been destroyed, microphone resting lightly in one gloved hand.
"Oh my," he said, voice warm and delighted, "how you have grown, Conductor."
Daniel turned sharply, baton still raised. The five summoned souls immediately moved to shield the group.
Partygoer 0 tilted his head, smiling wider.
"I am no ordinary foe, you see. As long as even one Party Creator remains alive, every Party Creator can be revived. We are not individuals. We are a single idea. A single celebration. Kill one, and the others simply… bring us back."
He gestured elegantly toward the hulking, mutating Party Creator Alpha.
"Alpha here is merely the first of many. The more fear you show, the stronger he becomes. The more you fight, the faster we regenerate."
Vannia's eyes burned with cold fury. The silver aura around her flared violently as memories of her parents' erased smiles flashed through her mind.
Without a word, she broke formation.
She charged straight at Partygoer 0, knife drawn, silver light trailing behind her like a comet.
"Vannia—!" Mia shouted.
Partygoer 0 did not move. He simply smiled.
Vannia struck with perfect precision — a thrust aimed directly at the progenitor's heart. The blade sank deep into his chest.
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.
Then Partygoer 0 looked down at the knife embedded in his suit and chuckled softly.
"How spirited. I do love a good performance."
He placed one gloved hand over Vannia's on the knife handle and gently pushed the blade deeper, as if inviting the attack.
Black ichor that was not blood seeped from the wound, but the wound itself began to close around the knife, refusing to let go.
"You still don't understand," he whispered, voice gentle. "I am the beginning. As long as the idea of the everlasting party exists in even one mind… I cannot truly die."
Party Creator Alpha let out a wet, gurgling laugh behind them. Its body mutated even faster now, fueled by Vannia's raw anger and grief. New eyes opened across its shoulders. Blood tentacles lashed out toward the rest of the Chosen.
Daniel flicked the golden baton sharply, sending a wave of golden notes to intercept the tentacles and pull Vannia back by force.
Vannia stumbled backward, knife still embedded in Partygoer 0's chest. The progenitor simply plucked it out as if removing a thorn and handed it back to her with a courteous bow.
"Keep trying, dear Echo," he said kindly. "The more you fight, the more beautiful the party becomes."
Partygoer 0 turned his serene smile toward Daniel.
"You may have the Conductor's baton now, but we have eternity. Every time you kill one of us, we return stronger. Every time you feel fear, anger, or grief… we grow."
He spread his arms wide, microphone raised.
"Shall we continue the performance?"
Party Creator Alpha roared, its body now a towering mass of shifting blood and mouths, growing larger with every second of tension in the air.
The nine Chosen stood surrounded — one progenitor who could not stay dead, and one ever-mutating horror that fed on their emotions.
Daniel's grip tightened on the golden baton.
The true test of the Symphony of Dominion had just begun.