For the very first time, she was entranced and captivated by someone else's music. It was a total masterpiece—an expression of raw feeling, a sincere attempt to connect with someone. A song not made for fame, not for greed. It was a song sung from the heart.
She stood there, completely still, even after the song had already ended. She remained silent.
Then she felt a touch on her shoulder, followed by a shake, and then a loud shout.
"Hey—Uta—UTAHH!"
The shout snapped her back to her senses.
"Uh—w-what?" she exclaimed.
It was Gordon who had been calling out to her.
Gordon appeared as a tall, somber man with a distinctive, weathered look. A prominent scar ran down the left side of his face, giving him an intimidating presence that contrasted with his gentle nature. His long gray hair was wild and often partially covered by a brown beret, which paired with his formal yet worn-out outfit—a brown coat over a simple vest.
"W-what's wrong?" Uta asked Gordon.
"Uta, what happened to you?" Gordon said. "You suddenly stopped and didn't reply when I called you."
"O-oh… t-that was… I was just lost in thought," she replied hesitantly.
The woman's name was Uta.
Uta was instantly recognizable by her striking two-toned hair, perfectly split down the middle—bright white on the left and vibrant red on the right—styled into two massive, circular wing-like loops. She typically wore a short white hoodie-style dress with a frilly hem and a loose, oversized multicolored jacket that slid off her shoulder, featuring a "UT" logo on the back. Her look was completed by a headset with golden headphones used for singing and broadcasting, along with tall white boots.
Gordon was like a father figure to Uta, so he grew worried when he saw her standing there, unresponsive.
He let out a breath and asked, "So… what exactly happened?"
Uta didn't answer. She simply looked at the phone in her hand, then handed it to Gordon.
"Here," she said. "Listen to this."
Gordon took the phone and played the song.
The same thing happened to Uta's mentor. He felt it—the emotion, the depth, the meaning hidden within the music.
Gordon then pressed the link, searching for the source of the video. After a moment, he found the original post. It had been uploaded on the R-Rated Hero Midnight's page.
The video already had 10.3 million views.
He gulped—not because of the number. He was accustomed to seeing millions and even billions of views. What truly surprised him was Uta's reaction.
Gordon knew exactly what was running through her mind.
He looked over at Uta, who had returned to her seat, softly humming the same tune she had just heard.
He said nothing.
In a quiet whisper, he told himself, Let her decide. Let her choose what she wants.
Then he looked back at the phone—back at the man on the screen.
From that day on, Uta was constantly checking the page named "Da-Fallen," waiting to see if any updates appeared. She also kept checking Midnight's page, hoping for something new.
Later that afternoon, Uta lay on her bed, still scrolling endlessly for updates. After refreshing the Hero-net page several times, she finally saw it—another post on Midnight's page. The cover showed the same man again, his long black hair covering his face. This time, he was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt.
Uta flipped onto her back, now facing the ceiling, holding her phone above her. She swung her long legs slightly and pressed play.
It was a reggae version this time.
As she watched, the same sensation washed over her—but the scenery was different. Instead of darkness, she saw open land bathed in light. Children were running freely, playing as trees and flowers swayed gently to the rhythm. His deep voice flowed through the scene, peaceful and relieving, blending perfectly with the sound.
Uta smiled as she listened.
She kept staring at the man playing the guitar, her eyes never leaving him.
Uta's mind was contemplating something. She wanted to meet the man—maybe do a collaboration, maybe build some connection, or simply have a conversation. For Uta, this was a foreign feeling. She didn't know exactly what she was feeling right now—maybe just curiosity, or maybe something much deeper that even she herself couldn't explain yet.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Far away from Maki's new world, a little girl was smirking as she watched how things were unfolding. She muttered to herself, laughing at the same time, her voice low and eerie. Who knows what she was saying as she laughed maniacally.