Prologue: Entu grua, vria Apokalypta

As the battle raged on in the special Mental Subspace created over the entire expanse of New Tokyo by the Seers of Death, chaos and carnage wrapped every single corner of the city that was the safest bastion in the world just hours ago into a sea of blood and death.

"H-Help!!! HEEELLLPPP!!!"

"I DON'T WANNA DIE---!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING---?!!"

Death throes, calls for help and rescue and voices of confusion and fear filled the air as monsters that they thought they were safe against, manifested themselves right in front of their eyes or at the mutated corpses that lined the streets and buildings in New Tokyo.

The monsters, most of which were let loose by the Seers as soon as they took away the people who are capable of eradicating these Malignances and locked them up in a special Subspace, feasted on the civilians and low-ranking Psychics. To anyone short of a mid-ranked Psychic, there was no place in the new capital that was safe.

And yet, even amidst this massacre, not everyone of the five Seers enjoyed the prospect of causing this much death and destruction. To the Juror, the Child of Light and the Jester, all three of them saw this as nothing but unnecessary slaughter that could've been avoided given that this was exactly why Mental Subspaces were made for by the Spirits anyway… and yet, their opinion was of no importance to the one who truly wanted this to happen…

For except the Innkeeper, who has disregarded her sense of conscience in order to kill Miyazono Ryuuichi, the one who has attained the greatest number of people he personally killed was no other than the Maestro of the Departed Symphonia.

"Assemble, string section. Tune your strings, bows and ears."

Amidst an empty and dark auditorium, he stood aloft at the podium.

"Moisten your reeds, brass winds and woodwinds. I need you for an explosive performance."

Dressed in his conductor's suit, coattails hanging low and trousers well-pressed and pointed.

"Percussions, mind your beat and tempo. You will be the heart of this concerto."

He held his conductor's baton, the glass wand gracefully moving at the hand of a true Master of Music as he directed his musicians to prepare for the performance.

"Choir, this is the moment we have all been waiting for. Give all your heart to your voice that it may bring salvation for the righteous and dread upon the sinners."

The hundreds of figures all elegantly took their positions and took up their instruments or music sheets, ready for the beginning of the performance. Although they have no faces, their body quivered with a sense of zeal. 

"O, world of sinners… listen to this performance that I offer to none but all of you who have chosen death through degeneracy and evil even when given the chance for repentance and deliverance…"

And with the fall of his baton, the Maestro signaled the start of the true apocalypse.

This time, there is no turning back.