PopularNovelChapter 1633: Rebecca had started the war? Rebecca had left them? Luna couldn't wrap her mind around it; the reality was too hard to swallow.
"Luna..." Ronan's voice, weak but insistent, broke through her fog. He tugged at her arm, urgency in his words. "You have to speak out! For the innocent, you have to make yourself heard." Luna's mind raced, spinning with confusion. "What am I supposed to do?" Luna trembled, her voice barely a whisper, fragile as a thread pulled too tight. “I'm so scared! I don't know what to do!" Ronan, his gaze unwavering as it fixed on the stage, coughed before speaking. "Right or wrong, you must speak for the innocent. You have to help Elyse. Her voice alone isn't enough!" Tears welled in Luna's eyes, her gaze falling to Ronan's bloodied leg. “No, I can't. I'm terrified. What if you die?" Ronan shook his head slowly, his determination unyielding. "I'm not going to die. I'm going to live. And as the coordinator of this performance, I'm going to track down the one who ordered this bombing. I will make them regret it for the rest of their life! So be brave, Luna. Let your violin speak. With your music, declare a ceasefire." Luna stood frozen, shock etched across her face. After what felt like an eternity, she steadied her trembling legs and slowly rose.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtIn that moment, she saw her once-beautiful gown now torn and battered, dragging heavily behind her like an anchor.
Found on data trace: galnovt☐☐Without hesitation, she bent down, tore the fabric free, and with newfound resolve, strode toward the stage. Picking up a violin, she stood beside Elyse.
Their eyes locked, and in that fleeting moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them. Then, Luna joined in, her bow dancing across the strings, her violin intertwining with Elyse's, their music a duet of defiance. The sound was stronger now, but it still wasn't enough.
Just then, the clarinetist entered the stage.
Elyse and Luna watched as, one by one, the remaining orchestra members who still could move, picked up their instruments and added their voices to the performance, filling the ravaged stage with their resilience.
The cameraman, capturing it all, whispered in awe, "Incredible. It's more than just a performance... it's a statement." But what statement?
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThe camera, broadcasting live, sent its feed to every station willing to carry it. One piece melted seamlessly into the next.
Despite the roar of fighter jets overhead, they didn't faltedetermined to make their music heard.
Meanwhile, in Manfek, George sat riveted in front of his television.
Instead of texting his ng his son, who was out on a date he stood up and opened the doors to his music shop. Stepping out into the bustling street, he began to play along with the televised performance.
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