The next morning brought them to the sprawl of St. Louis, where glass towers scraped the summer haze and parking was an Olympic sport. Mark managed to squeeze the van into a narrow back lot behind SoundScape Pro Audio, the kind of high-end music store where everything was sleek, white-walled, and intimidatingly clean.

They walked in together—furred, clawed, barepaw as always.

The cashier blinked. The assistant manager stared.

“You’re… Feral Eclipse.”

Jonah grinned. “That’s us.”

Gabriel leaned casually on a counter. “We’re just here to get emotionally destroyed by some price tags.”

And they did.

Rack gear. Lighting. Patch snakes. Power distro units. Everything they needed… and everything they couldn’t afford.

Cassie whispered, “It’s like a museum, but instead of priceless art, it’s all taunting us.”

The store manager eventually emerged, visibly excited, and even asked for a group photo. But when Thane politely floated the idea of “a discount, maybe, since we just got mugged by a mansion cult,” the manager just laughed nervously.

“Sorry, we don’t really do artist deals unless it’s a verified tour sponsorship. Still, huge fan!”

No help. Just selfies.

Defeated but not broken, the crew regrouped in a city square nearby—an open plaza with fountains, food trucks, and curious tourists.

Gabriel pulled out his bass.

“We busk.”

Maya groaned. “We’re famous.”

Gabriel shrugged. “We’re also broke.”

Mark plugged in a single light strip. “Gimme power and twenty minutes, I’ll make this fountain look like Coachella.”

Cassie stepped onto the edge of a stone bench. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right.”

They set up with minimal gear. Acoustic, stripped-down, raw. People started to gather.

Kids pointed. Parents took pictures. Phones went up.

They launched into a chill version of one of their anthems—“Echo Burn.” No pyro. No fog. Just heart, claws, and passion under the St. Louis sun.

And that’s when he appeared.

A little boy—maybe eight or nine—wide-eyed, clinging to his dad’s hand, wearing a faded, clearly loved Feral Eclipse t-shirt two sizes too big. He was staring at Gabriel like he’d just met a superhero.

At the end of the song, he ran up with a shy, reverent voice. “Are… are you really Gabriel?”

Gabriel knelt down, tail stilling. “Yeah, little wolf. That’s me.”

The kid squeaked. “I wanna be a bassist like you someday.”

Gabriel looked like he’d been punched in the soul. “You already sound cooler than me.”

The father—an older man in a pressed button-down and sunglasses—approached slowly. He didn’t look like a music guy. He looked like he owned five companies and a small jet.

He looked down at Gabriel, then at Thane. “My son’s been talking about your band non-stop for over a year. We nearly flew to Texas to see you live, but the dates didn’t line up. Seeing you here today was…” he hesitated. “I haven’t seen him this happy in months.”

Thane smiled gently. “Glad we could give him a good day.”

The man nodded toward the bass case propped up on the curb. “Saw the posts online. People talking about a gig gone wrong—rumors about a private party, weird crowd, missing gear. Guessing that wasn’t just drama.”

Thane’s smile faded a little. “It wasn’t.”

The man paused again. Then cleared his throat. “What would it cost to replace your lost gear?”

The crew blinked. What?

Thane straightened. “Sir, that’s… not necessary. We’re managing.”

“I didn’t ask if it was necessary,” the man said, pulling out his phone. “Give me a figure.”

Gabriel blinked. “Uh. Around ten thousand. Maybe twenty if we do it right.”

The man tapped his screen. “I’m sending a wire for two-fifty.”

The entire band fell completely silent.

Jonah dropped his drumstick.

Mark actually choked on his coffee.

“…Two-fifty… thousand?!” Cassie echoed.

“For the boy,” the man said. “And because you gave my kid something priceless.”

The boy hugged Gabriel tight before they left.

Back in the van, no one spoke for a full minute.

Then Maya broke the silence.

“Okay. Who made a deal with a spirit at a crossroads and didn’t tell the rest of us?”

Gabriel looked dazed. “A kid. A kid just saved our whole damn band.”

Thane stared at the phone, blinking at the incoming transaction confirmation. “We’ve never been this lucky.”

Mark, from the driver’s seat: “Don’t get used to it.”

Jonah: “…Can we afford pizza and new lights?”

Thane finally exhaled and leaned back. “Yeah. For once… we can afford anything.”

Gabriel grinned and bumped his head gently against Thane’s shoulder. “I told you. The universe loves us. It just has a very messed up sense of humor.”