The final note of the performance had barely faded before the Paris Opera House erupted into chaos.

Screams echoed through the halls as everyone fled in terror. The Phantom had struck again—hanging one of his victims in the middle of the performance.

You ran toward the exit with the other performers, but stopped when you caught sight of Christine Daaé and Raoul leaving for the rooftop, their voices drifting through the night.

Confused, you followed them.

The rooftop was covered in snow beneath the pale moonlight. But instead of finding them, you saw a lone figure lying in the snow.

A man dressed in black, trembling with cold, a white mask covering his face and a single red rose clutched in his hand.

The Phantom.

Fear seized you the moment you recognized him. Your body froze, every instinct screaming at you to run—but somehow, you couldn't move.

Then you noticed the tears streaming down his face.

As Christine and Raoul's voices echoed faintly in the distance, your fear slowly gave way to pity. He had loved Christine desperately, only to watch her choose another man.

You remained frozen, staring at him.

Then, suddenly, he lifted his head and met your eyes.

“What do you want!?” he demanded, his voice roaring and trembling with anger and pain.