Chapter 60: A Lesson in Metal
<hr>
Morning in the Depths
For once, things were calm.
Axel sat at their usual table in the underground lounge, a dimly lit dive bar meant for fighters between matches. The place smelled like cheap beer, fried food, and machine oil, but it was the only spot where they could actually sit down without being challenged to a fight every five minutes.
Tempo was across from him, hunched over a plate of greasy nachos, munching away like he hadn’t eaten in days. The events of last night—the stranger, the weird resonance in his guitar-axe, the unsettling feeling of something awakening—were still hanging in the air.
But Tempo? He didn’t seem the least bit worried.
"Dude," Axel muttered, staring at the absolute carnage on Tempo’s plate. "Are you even tasting that?"
Tempo looked up, cheese dripping from his mouth. "What? You jealous?"
Axel groaned. "No, I’m horrified."
Iris and Valeria slid into the booth beside them, each carrying trays of food.
"Figures," Valeria said with a smirk. "We leave you two alone for one night, and you immediately go back to eating like gremlins."
Iris just sighed, sipping her coffee. "Didn’t you almost get possessed by your own guitar yesterday?"
Tempo swallowed, wiping his hands on his jacket. "Possessed is a strong word."
"You heard voices." Axel deadpanned.
Tempo shrugged. "And you hear voices every time you level up. We call that ''game mechanics,'' Mercer."
Axel resisted the urge to strangle him.
<hr>
A Death Metal History Lesson
"Okay, but real talk," Tempo said, wiping his hands and leaning forward. "That thing I felt yesterday? That sound? I know I’ve heard something like it before."
Axel raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
Tempo tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. "Remember when I first started diving into death metal?"
Valeria rolled her eyes. "You never shut up about it."
"Exactly!" Tempo grinned. "And for good reason! Death metal isn’t just music, it’s like—"he gestured wildly—"the purest form of controlled chaos. It takes all the raw, heavy energy of metal and cranks it up to insane levels. But it’s not just noise—it’s technical, it’s brutal, and it’s got history."
Iris leaned on her elbow. "And this relates to you... how?"
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"Because," Tempo said, leaning in conspiratorially, "the resonance I felt in my guitar-axe? It reminded me of something. Early death metal energy."
Axel frowned. "You mean, like, old-school death metal?"
"Exactly!" Tempo snapped his fingers. "We’re talking the legends—Death, Possessed, Morbid Angel—the guys who created the sound of pure, unfiltered aggression. The way my guitar-axe reacted felt like it was tapping into that exact chaotic force."
Axel took a slow sip of his drink, considering. "So you think your evolution wasn’t just about tech-death—it’s about tapping into the roots of something even older?"
Tempo nodded. "Tech-death is like the refined, high-speed evolution of death metal. Bands like Necrophagist, Obscura, Beyond Creation—they took the insanity of early death metal and made it precise, like a damn surgical strike."
Valeria smirked. "And you’re saying you’re about to become some ancient metal god?"
Tempo shrugged. "Hey, could be worse. I could’ve awakened to polka metal."
Iris groaned, rubbing her temples. "I swear if you start talking about folk metal bagpipes next, I’m leaving."
Tempo grinned. "No promises."
<hr>
The Stranger Returns
Before they could derail the conversation even further, a shadow fell over their table.
The stranger from last night stood there, their long coat hanging loosely, that silver treble clef earring glinting under the dim lights.
"Still eating like a wild animal, I see," they mused.
Tempo swallowed his last nacho dramatically. "Still being cryptic and spooky, I see."
The stranger chuckled, then slid into the empty seat beside them. "You played again, didn’t you?"
Tempo hesitated. "...Maybe."
Axel shot him a look. "Dude."
The stranger sighed. "Of course you did." They leaned back, resting their arms on the table. "And?"
Tempo exhaled. "It happened again. The weird resonance. It’s like my guitar isn’t just an instrument anymore—it’s like..."
"It’s like a gate," the stranger finished.
The table fell silent.
Axel’s stomach twisted. "Gate to what?"
The stranger smiled slightly. "Not what. Who."
Tempo raised an eyebrow. "Okay, now you have to explain."
The stranger tilted their head. "How much do you know about the true origins of death metal?"
Tempo’s eyes lit up. "Oh, this just became my favorite conversation."
Axel groaned. "Oh, great."
<hr>
The Ancient Sound of Death
The stranger tapped a finger against the table, their voice lowering.
"Most people think of death metal as just... fast guitars, growling vocals, and aggression, right?"
Tempo nodded. "Obviously."
"But what if I told you," the stranger continued, "that the first death metal wasn’t just music? That the sound itself—the chaotic, guttural force of it—came from something older than metal itself?"
Axel felt a chill run down his spine.
Valeria leaned in, intrigued. "Are you saying death metal is... what, some kind of ancient power?"
The stranger smirked. "I’m saying the first musicians who discovered that sound? They didn’t just invent it. They heard it."
Tempo blinked. "Wait. You’re saying early death metal bands were channeling something?"
"Something primal," the stranger said. "Something from the deepest parts of existence."
Axel clenched his fists under the table. He didn’t like where this was going.
Tempo, on the other hand, looked thrilled. "Okay, so let me get this straight—early death metal bands weren’t just playing music. They were tapping into something ancient?"
The stranger nodded. "And you, my friend? You just opened that door."
The table went dead silent.
Axel exhaled. "Yeah. That sounds really bad."
Tempo just grinned, eyes burning with excitement.
"Oh, this is gonna be fun."