Chapter 8: The Moon and Constellation

It begins with silence ― not the absence of sound, but the presence of waiting.

[Toyohashi Station ― Night Time ― Full Moon]

Dence stands on the same platform where he once met Ptr. Isagani. In his left hand, his katana and on the other hand is the lyric notebook. Its once-glowing page now dim, but something new has started appearing―a faint symbol. The "#". Scribbled like a signature, barely visible. The same symbol from the black calling card. He doesn't know where he's going. But something in him does.

Like constellations in the city, small carvings, chalk marks, and street posters start showing a hidden trail ― stylized tags of the "#" leading him through alleys, underpass tunnels, and old lampposts. He follows the trail in silence. No music. Just instinct. Just listening. Until he reaches the foot of Yoshida Castle, by the riverbank. The moonlight reflects in the water, like a quiet stage.

There, sitting by the rocks, is a hooded figure―familiar and still. She doesn't speak at first. Just nods.
"Sam" she uttered. "I am Sam... you found me."

Finally! Not a ghost. Not a memory. Not a whisper. Real. Dence is stunned.
"Who are you really? And... do you really know what's the next chord?"

Dence sits beside her, unsure where to begin. But Sam doesn't need him to. 
"You were never meant to play what the world wanted. Your music was never for fame. Music is your weapon. Your sword. You forgot that."

Sam took gently the lyric notebook from Dence's hand.
"This... is your story. Unfinished songs. Songs that never been released. They were never just lyrics and melodies. They were weapon and maps."

Next, Sam showed Dence one white aragonite bridge pins resting on her palm―now glowing faintly.
"White aragonite stone. They were hidden in your guitar. You didn't find them... because you were too wired to the noise. This one― (holds up the glowing piece)―is the seventh bridge pin. A key to portal. If awakened... it can unlock power beyond song―beyond song. Someone along your journey show you how. But the question is... will you be worthy enough to use it?"

Then Sam reveals the truth behind the black calling card:
"This isn't just a card. It’s a message... and a moment. When it glows—it’s calling you. Not with words… but with truth. It opens more than eyes. It reveals what once was... or what might still be. You’ll see things— memories wrapped in sound and light—so vivid, they’ll feel like now. But once the vision fades… the sharp symbol vanishes. The card turns silent. Just black. No replays. No second chances. It speaks once… and never again."

Dence is speechless. But Sam isn't done.
"Unwired. Not bound by trend, label, or system. No frequency holds you. No signal defines you. Just sound—raw and real. Just soul—scarred but still singing. You’ve walked hollow… yet driven. Bruised by silence. Burned by rejection. But still—your heart beats forward. Not for applause. Not for approval. For truth. That’s what it means to be Unwired. To fight when no one’s listening. To create when nothing answers back. You are not broken. You are becoming."

Dence is silent. Then he smiles, a broken one.
"So that's what I've always been."

Sam hands him the seventh bridge pin, glowing softly.
"Time to restring the guitar. You have everything you need now. The realm of the Unwired is waiting. But not with your old weapons."

Sam motions to the katana hanging from Dence's shoulder ― the symbol of self-defense, trauma, and survival.
"Let it go..."

Sam whispers while pointing to the river.

Dence walks toward the river. Slowly kneels. Under the full moon, he plunges the katana into the water. The blade shimmers... then fades into the current like a passing season.

Dence looks up at the stars. The weight is lifted.

The name Dence Unwired was not forged in applause, but in awakening—a name not claimed, but called forth. Born not from fame... but from purpose.

Dence (with trembling breath, eyes wide as if baptized by light):
"Something broke inside... and rebuilt me. I felt it—raw, rushing, real. Like a firestorm in my chest." (Then, almost whispering—desperate for more) "What’s the next chord?"

Sam (smiling, eyes glinting like someone who’s seen the other side):
"The next chord... is the next calling. It won't be easy, Dence. It never is."
(She places the lyric notebook gently into his hands, almost ceremonially.)
"A call will come tomorrow, from Hamamatsu. Say yes. Take the stage. Bring your own storm. One of your originals—let it lead the way."

Dence realized with sudden clarity... Ere was his intuition, personified. The realization hit him like a chord strummed in perfect harmony. "Find Sam," Ere had said. "She knows the next chord." It wasn't just a cryptic message—it was a revelation. Sam held the key to his next mission. But what if she already knew more than he was ready to learn?