Years moved swiftly, weaving a new tapestry from threads of sorrow, rebellion, and hope. Iris Corporation reshaped society, pressing silence into the spaces where free melodies once thrived. Yet, despite their efforts, beneath the polished façade, music survived—quietly defiant, awaiting a chance to rise again.

In the wake of Rock On’s death, Iris Corp swiftly seized control. Their campaign branded rock and metal as dangerous—incitements to chaos and unrest. Songs vanished overnight, replaced by sanitized, artificial compositions meticulously crafted by Iris Corp’s sophisticated AI.

Schools embraced classical music exclusively, carefully cultivating an obedient generation. Technology crept into every aspect of life; autonomous vehicles filled the streets, surveillance drones hummed overhead, and gentle orchestral melodies permeated every public space, a constant reminder of Iris Corp’s imposed tranquility.

But beneath this artificial serenity, something stirred—quiet yet unstoppable. From the shadows emerged Pops, the mute veteran roadie, who gathered musicians, misfits, and dreamers into secret havens. Hidden concerts sprang up in abandoned warehouses and underground basements, giving rise to a new rebellion: the Rockers.

At the heart of this movement was Sona, now seventeen and transformed by tragedy into a force of nature. Her voice, fierce and powerful, carried a defiant rage and aching sorrow that resonated deeply among those who heard her. They called her the "Singing Asura," a title she wore proudly, driven by the pain and passion of her past.

Every performance was a declaration of war—a refusal to be silenced. She became more than a musician; she became the heart of an underground revolution.

Years passed, and beneath the weight of Iris Corp’s rule, whispers spread of a phantom hacker known as “The Riff.” Late one night, nine years after Rock On’s demise, Tuck’s fingers flew deftly over a keyboard. In a moment of brilliant rebellion, he commandeered every radio station, television channel, and speaker system, broadcasting the lost music of Rock On directly into the hearts of the masses.

People across the city stood transfixed, electrified by the familiar sound—the powerful vocals of Miura, the fierce energy of Kid’s guitar, Reyn’s rhythm, and Urara’s bold basslines filled the air once more.

In that instant, Tuck became a legend. Known as “The Riff,” he vanished shortly after, becoming a ghostly figure whose rebellion ignited a new generation’s desire for freedom.

Time marched forward, and beneath the city’s polished surface, Rock and Metal flourished anew. Hundreds of underground bands emerged, playing passionately beneath Iris Corp’s watchful eyes. Yet none rose quite like Rock On—reborn under Sona’s lead, with her newfound bandmates, Arven and Isa, at her side. Pops stood proudly as their main roadie, quietly orchestrating dazzling, hidden shows. Sona, now seventeen and transformed by tragedy into a force of nature. Her voice, fierce and powerful, carried a defiant rage and aching sorrow that resonated deeply among those who heard her. They called her the "Singing Asura," a title she wore proudly, driven by the pain and passion of her past.

Their fame grew exponentially, spreading whispers of rebellion that inspired an entire generation. With each performance, Sona challenged Iris Corp openly, fearlessly defying the silence they had enforced.

Ten years after losing Miura, Mark returned to the city as Chief of Police, with Louis beside him, now eighteen. Louis, grown skilled and confident, earned the role of first chair bass at the local high school orchestra. Yet something lingered—a persistent curiosity for the underground world he'd heard about but never found.

Late nights were spent whispering with his friend Isaac, desperate to find the hidden concerts, to hear Rock On’s defiant music firsthand. But every attempt ended in frustration, and Louis was left yearning, feeling an unexplainable longing that tugged insistently at the edges of his memory.

Fourteen years passed. One chilly evening, after a particularly heated rehearsal, Sona stormed through the bustling city streets. Her heart heavy with frustration, she wandered aimlessly, eyes eventually catching a small shop window where a delicate charm—a blue rose shaped like an eighth note—sparkled beneath soft lights.

Lost in thought, she collided with someone exiting the store.

“Oh—sorry!” she quickly apologized, reaching down to retrieve the charm. As she stood, she met gentle brown eyes beneath messy orange hair.

“Thanks,” he smiled shyly, a warmth instantly familiar yet distant. “I'm Louis.”

The name struck her like lightning, an echo from a past she couldn’t quite grasp. Her breath caught softly, confusion mingling with a sense of longing she didn't understand.

“…Sona,” she murmured softly, heart quickening.

Louis tilted his head slightly, offering a gentle smile. “You… like music?”

Her voice steadied, an undeniable sincerity ringing through her words. “More than anything.”

He smiled, warmth spreading softly across his cheeks. “Guess we have that in common. See you around?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, watching quietly as he turned and walked away. Her lips softly formed the name she felt she'd always known—yet couldn't place why it resonated so deeply. “Lou…”

She stood there, lost in thought, desperately trying to remember why his name felt so heartbreakingly familiar. But the memories remained out of reach, locked tightly behind a door she was not yet ready to open.

Sona continued walking deeper into the heart of the city, a strange peace settling over her. The melodies she carried—the fierce defiance of Rock On, the quiet lullabies from her childhood, the powerful legacy left by Miura—filled her heart, guiding each step forward.

The city lights gradually faded into a soft, comforting darkness. She clutched the small heart shaped locket tightly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in her chest. She sensed deeply, undeniably, that tonight marked the beginning of something truly important.

Music would live on—through her, through Rock On, through those who refused to be silenced. Her mother’s legacy, her family’s spirit, and the strength of an entire generation lived inside her, a fire that would never extinguish.

With quiet strength, she gazed upward to the endless stars, whispering softly into the cool evening breeze:

“Bonne nuit, ma petite étoile.”