Triennale Milano

Intro. The crowd heard a simple piano chord—warm, familiar. They swayed. Vex smirked from the side.

Not just a collection of Styles and Sounds. A weapon.

Tap 3 on the EC5.

Marco saw Vex’s face. Pale.

Then Marco triggered the he had programmed: the sound of a katana unsheathing, followed by the full orchestra stabbing in time with a dubstep wobble.