The Conductor stood at his Podium, his hands cutting through the air in rythmic patterns. Facing him were dozen of dark figures, each one an exact copy of the others, but for the instruments they hold. The Rows of players are arranged in 4 great arcs, the lighting dim over them. They have no need to look at music, or any such thing. All the lighting, and all the attention (or all the would be attention, for the Audience, main floor and balconies both, is conspiciously missing) is centered on one lonely figure. Six different Spotlights (controlled by more of the players in the rafters) focused on this poor soul. A Hollow, one of the many dwellers in the city. This one had broken one of the Espada's laws, The Conductor didn't know which. More importantly, he had tried to escape. The Players' caught him just outside the walls of the city. If he hadn't claimed to have some minor musical talent, the Conductor would have simply returned him to the Espada. As it was, he had been spirited back to the Auditorium, and now did his best to play. To put it lightly, it was awful.

"You lied to me... didn't you?"

The Hollow dropped his instrument, a Clarinet. The Conductor stared at him, waiting for a response. As the tension mounted, the Players picked up another tune, no visible instructions for them coming from the Conductor. It was low, and quiet, but built as more instruments added in. It started out as a harmony, but took on dissonant overtones, but spoke of growing anger, and danger. All the time the Conductor stood there, no sign of his thoughts passing his face. Finally he shook his head.

"I'll take that as my answer."

The Conductor turned, walking away, his annoyance stealing the enjoyment that any future star players might bring. The Hollow hit his first perfect note, a cry of despair as he realized the punishment that awaited him once he was returned to the Esapada.

"At least he could sing for me at the end."

The Conductor's laughter joined the cry of despair as they echoed in the perfect acoustics of the Auditorium. As both sounds died, a perfect silence settled over the Auditorium, the lights out, and the sole remaining figure in it settled down in one of the chairs, turning his mind to the other players scattered through Las Noches and beyond. He had a job to do, despite his pleasant distractions here.