I was in the third row, stage left, right in front of the subs — and I knew the second the house lights dipped that my life was about to be ruined in the best way possible.

The amphitheater fell into a hush for half a heartbeat — just enough to catch your breath — and then the crowd erupted into a deafening scream. The massive LED wall behind the stage blinked to black.

Then one single white spotlight cut through the fog…

…illuminating Thane, crouched over his soundboard at front-of-house like a war general with claws. His ice-blue eyes glinted like they could see through walls. And taped inside his mixer lid? That fan drawing. Everyone knew about it by now. People had started bringing their own crayon art to shows hoping he’d glance at it.

Another light snapped on—far side of the stage.

Cassie. Mic in hand. Chin lifted. Entire presence screaming, You are not ready.

A third beam—center stage.

Gabriel. Tail low, eyes locked dead ahead, black fur shimmering under the mist. The crowd howled as he raised his bass.

A heartbeat.

A breath.

And then the entire place EXPLODED.

Lights burst into full color. A blast of fog punched forward. And the opening chords of “Black Sky Reign” ripped out of the speakers like the world was ending gloriously in 4/4 time.

The floor shook. No exaggeration.

Cassie’s vocals hit like a stormfront. Maya and Rico flanked her on rhythm and lead, trading riffs like they were dueling with blades. Jonah was back there slaying the drums—sticks flying, head banging, sweat flying like shrapnel.

And Gabriel — holy hell. He played like the bass was an extension of his spine, like every note came from somewhere primal. The dude growled into his mic during the breakdown and the woman next to me fainted.

People were sobbing. Howling. Jumping so hard the pit felt like an earthquake. Someone had a plush mop on a stick waving above the crowd. I’m not even joking.

They rolled straight into “Teeth On the Wire” and the entire pit went feral.

And then — mid-song — Gabriel stepped out to the edge of the stage and made eye contact with someone in the front row. Not just a glance. A real look. A lock. And the kid? They dropped their phone. Just dropped it. Didn’t even care.

And when he threw them a pick after the solo? They collapsed.

People were screaming “FERAL! FERAL!” so loud, it echoed through the canyon behind the stage.

Halfway through the set, Cassie held up a sign someone made that read “PACK IS FAMILY.” She didn’t say anything. Just nodded. The crowd understood.

Then — during the final chorus of “Field Notes From the Stars” — the whole venue lit up with phones, lighters, glowy wristbands… whatever people had. It looked like a galaxy exploded in the crowd.

And right at the end — when the final note rang out, and the fog was thick, and the lights hit that blinding white…

Thane stood up from his board behind the curtains stage left, claws still on the faders, and lifted a single fist.

And we all lost it.