Ula violently jolted awake, his massive chest heaving as he gasped for thin, dusty air.
He was lying on a rigid cot inside a dimly lit room on some unnamed backwater planet. But his mind was not in the room. He was trapped in a nightmare. The horrifying, concentrated screams of dying Dagmani children had been so thoroughly, brutally drilled into his cerebral cortex that his entire nervous system was completely fried.
Any basic sensory input now sent his massive body into a state of sheer, unadulterated agony. Even as he lay perfectly still, he could feel every single beat of his own heart. The blood pumping through his veins felt like jagged daggers scraping against the inside of his skin. The simple friction of the thin bed sheet resting across his legs felt like burning plasma.
"Ula," a soft, gentle voice called out in the dim room.
The Neman gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles bulging as he forced his fractured will to take control. He forced his eyes open, staring blankly for several seconds before his vision finally focused on the figure standing beside his bed.
It was Nehsy, a female Dagmani and one of the five high priests of the Asgard sanctuary.
Nehsy looked at the broken giant with immense pity. She reached into her inventory and pulled out an incredibly soft, treated animal hide.
"Let us start today's sensory exercise with this one," the priestess said gently.
She reached out and lightly placed the super soft hide over Ula's trembling hands.
The very second the soft texture brushed against his calloused skin, Ula let out a blood-curdling, guttural scream of absolute agony. His massive body violently convulsed on the cot.
The horrific torture Verza Zal had subjected him to had completely rewired his brain. Now, every single instance of a soft, gentle touch forced his mind to vividly, painfully relive the dying moments of the innocent Dagmani children.
How did the unshakeable, towering Neman revolutionary end up completely broken?
To understand the depths of his trauma, one had to look back several months, right after Ula had been ambushed and captured by Verza Zal in Dorian Kepler's old apartment.
…
Deep within an undocumented Accord black-site on Nexus Prime, Ula found himself heavily shackled to a reinforced vertical slab inside a sterile, white interrogation room. Beside his head was a terrifying, highly advanced acoustic contraption.
The heavy durasteel door slid open, and a figure stepped into the stark white room.
It was a female Qerrian. Her skin was a sickly, dull Veridian green. Faint yellow markings ran down from the corners of her mouth, looking exactly like permanently stained tears. A thick, leather visor completely covered her eyes, signifying she was blind. However, the thick, fleshy tendrils on her head, her sensory vanes, actively writhed and twitched around the room like vipers tasting the air. It was her unique way of "looking."
"Obey and prosper, Mr. Ula," the Qerrian operative said, her voice a terrifying, hollow echo. "My name is Eevlas Zin."
And so, the torture began.
Eevlas was a highly specialized, brutal interrogator for the Bureau of Stellar Order. Through the mechanical contraption and her own corrupted Solar resonance, Ula was suddenly subjected to the heavily concentrated, agonizing cries of tortured Dagmani children.
Eevlas's machine literally transferred the sheer, emotional agony of their final, dying breaths directly into Ula's mind, bypassing his physical defenses entirely and attacking his soul.
Behind the thick, soundproof one-way glass of the monitoring room, Senior Lieutenant Verza Zal stood in perfect silence. Her hands were firmly clenched behind her back, her eyes watching the brutal display.
Even through the heavy glass, Verza could hear the horrifying, metallic creaking of the reinforced slab as the massive Neman violently squirmed and thrashed against his restraints, his muscles tearing under his own desperate force.
A moment later, the interrogation room door hissed open. Eevlas Zin walked out and stepped into the monitoring room, taking her place beside Verza. The blind operative tilted her head toward the glass.
"Tell me, Lieutenant," Eevlas murmured softly. "Is it beautiful?"
Verza kept her eye locked on the bleeding Neman. "What do you mean, Specialist Zin?"
"I cannot see the so-called 'color' my sister raves so much about," Eevlas explained, her sensory vanes twitching toward the glass. "My vanes can look beyond walls, and they can look beyond skin. Yet, everything to me is just a feedback of sound. There is absolutely no color in my life... but they all squirm the exact same way when they break. Tell me, Lieutenant. Is it beautiful?"
Verza looked back through the glass at the broken, weeping giant. She tightened the grip on her own wrists behind her back.
"Yes," Verza answered coldly.
For weeks, Ula was subjected to this living hell. To keep the Neman alive and capable of forming coherent sentences, Verza had strictly ordered Eevlas to use only a medium dosage of the empathic sound.
But miraculously, despite the agonizing, continuous sensory overload, the Neman's core will remained entirely intact. His mind was fracturing, but he stubbornly refused to spill a single secret about the revolution.
Standing in the monitoring room weeks later, Verza looked at the trembling Neman. She wondered if this interrogation was even worth the time anymore. Every revolution had been a futile, doomed endeavor from the single thought it surfaced.
Verza's eyes narrowed. She decided to stop playing games. She would completely up the dosage to the absolute maximum, break his mind entirely, extract what she can, and be done with it.
Beside her, Eevlas smiled, her yellow tear-markings stretching across her pale cheeks.
"We can't do it here," the blind Qerrian noted, sensing Verza's intent. "The local power grid on Nexus Prime can't support the absolute threshold of my machine. For a higher dosage, we need my complete, unrestricted equipment. We need to transport him to Ardota Prime."
Verza gave a short, decisive nod. "Understood," she said flawlessly. "I'll hand the transport logistics over to the Accord Navy. He will be processed and brought to the capital as a common prisoner."
…
Far across the galaxy, in the deep void of space, Rear Admiral Ganea Rallizas sat rigidly in the command chair of her massive Imperator-class flagship.
The bridge of the flagship was a hive of sterile, disciplined activity. Ganea looked over her fleet, her sharp, dark eyes analyzing the tactical holoscreens. Suddenly, a tiny, encrypted red icon pulsed silently in the corner of her personal retinal display.
It was a secret alarm.
Ganea remained entirely stoic. She simply stood up, smoothing down her immaculate blue naval uniform. "Officer," Ganea said to her second-in-command. "Take the conn. I need to review the latest logistics report in my quarters."
"Yes, Admiral," the Commander replied flawlessly.
Ganea walked briskly out of the command deck. The moment the heavy blast doors of her private quarters hissed shut and the soundproofing engaged, she dropped the mask. She rushed over to her secure terminal and tapped the blinking red icon.
It was an automated surveillance ping she had secretly put into the Navy's network. It was designed to check every single hour for the movement of sensitive, high-value operatives that Accord got their hand on.
Ganea quickly decrypted the file. The flagged prisoner was Ula.
A cold spike of dread shot through the Admiral's chest. 'Ula?' she thought, her mind racing. 'Did he get swept up by a random Navy planetary inspection? Was he careless?'
But as she read further down the official transfer manifest, her dread turned into a horrifying, icy chill. It was an inter-departmental handover from the Bureau of Stellar Order.
BSO had Ula. And if BSO had him... he was already being tortured.
Ganea's hands flew across the holographic keyboard, her mind switching into pure tactical overdrive. She needed to know everything: the exact route, the specific planetary timeline, and exactly what kind of Prison Transport frigate he was being loaded onto.
After several minutes of intense slicing, she had the complete itinerary.
Ganea leaned back in her chair, staring at the route. 'Should I blow it up?' the dark thought crossed her mind. She commanded a fleet. She could easily redirect a cruiser, obliterate the transport frigate in deep space, and cover it up as a devastating pirate attack. It would be a mercy kill. It would save Ula from the absolute hell of BSO interrogation on Ardota Prime, and it would permanently protect the secrets of the revolution.
But Ula was a cornerstone of their movement.
Ganea closed her eyes, making her decision. She opened a highly encrypted, untraceable sub-space channel, bouncing the signal across a dozen different dead relays.
She waited for the secure connection to latch.
"The ledger is unbalanced," Ganea whispered into the dark.
…
And so, the desperate rescue operation was launched.
A heavily armed strike team of Revolutionaries, deeply disguised as ruthless Outer Rim pirates, violently ambushed the Accord transport frigate in the middle of a hyperspace jump.
Leading the brutal boarding party was Horus. He had become the tactical leader of the Dagma cell and, more importantly, one of the high priests of the Asgard sanctuary. When he had received the encoded message that Ula was the one rotting in the hold, he had personally volunteered to lead the rescue.
To make the 'pirate attack' believable and cover Ganea's tracks, Horus's team didn't just extract Ula. They violently blew the locks on the primary detention blocks and released every single prisoner on the frigate, creating absolute chaos on the decks before fleeing into the void.
They had saved him from Ardota Prime. But they had been too late to save his mind.
…
The heavy door to the medical cot hissed open. Nehsy stepped out of the dimly lit room and into the makeshift corridor of the revolutionary camp.
Her clear, perceptive eyes bore a profound, heavy sadness. She looked at the group of waiting revolutionaries and slowly shook her head.
Horus leaned against the wall, staring down at his own sharp, metallic fingers. "Is there anything we can do to help him?"
Nehsy sighed, tightly gripping the soft hide. "The other medics in the camp have already given up on him. His brain is trapped in an endless loop of sympathetic trauma. The pain is entirely neurological."
"We have to be able to help him," Horus said, his voice thick with frustration. "By the blessing of Bepoo... Ula personally helped our people to survive when the Accord attacked our homes. I cannot just let him rot like this."
Standing beside them, the camp's lead cybernetic medic adjusted his glasses.
"This is unprecedented," the medic explained grimly. "The psychological empath-torture he has gone through would drive anyone completely mad. But you are right, it is all mental. Theoretically... if we could find a way to safely isolate his brain function, put his physical body into a deep stasis, and then slowly, painstakingly train his mind to unpeel the layers of that trauma..."
The medic shook his head, instantly shooting down his own theory. "But it's impossible. To do that kind of precise mental therapy, we would need direct visual feedback of his internal neural pathways. We can't do surgery on his mind blind. We would need a machine capable of rendering a human consciousness into a navigable digital space."
Horus closed his eyes, the crushing reality of their limitations setting in. They didn't have that kind of technology. No one in the galaxy did.
…
Meanwhile, back on the peaceful, sunlit surface of Friton, the atmosphere inside Round Table Studio HQ was electric.
Inside the central Junction room, the five department heads were gathered closely around the glowing holographic table with Arthur.
Lin Liseli swiped her hands gracefully across the main console, slowly zooming out the massive 3D visual projection. First, it displayed a highly detailed, rotating model of the Animus 2.0, looking like a sleek, laid-back, highly advanced medical chair. Then, the projection expanded rapidly, laying bare miles upon miles of environmental assets.
"And that," Liseli presented proudly, pointing to the sprawling digital sectors, "is Florence, Monteriggioni, Tuscany, Forlì, Venice, and the Vatican."
Arthur leaned forward, his golden eyes scanning the zoomed-out models of the ancient Italian cities. Every single minute detail, from the weathered terracotta roof tiles to the intricate stained glass of the massive cathedrals, was flawlessly rendered. It was glaringly obvious that the Art department had broken their backs over the last few months to achieve this breathtaking level of detail.
Bem Lendu crossed his heavy arms. "The design team has been running intensive parkour playtests all week. The environments are incredibly solid. Some of my guys did manage to find a few wall-clipping exploits and weird animation softlocks, but Logan and I are actively squashing those bugs as we speak."
"And as for the programming side," Logan Kim chimed in, grinning widely as he spun a digital stylus between his fingers. "The rendering optimizations you taught me are working flawlessly. There are no performance issues. In fact, we have achieved zero loading screens between the massive city sectors and super smooth gameplay. I bet even a high-tier Solar with enhanced reflexes like you, Arty, could actually feel how buttery smooth our frame rates are right now."
Arthur couldn't help but chuckle, a bright, deeply satisfied smile on his face. The team was firing on all cylinders.
Kasavin adjusted his glasses, bringing up the master production schedule on his datapad. "With these final milestones met, we are officially ready to launch our trailer."
The Production Head paused, looking directly at his young boss with a deeply serious expression.
"Arty," Kasavin said carefully. "We just need to confirm one vital thing. Percival is not going to randomly drop another galaxy-breaking music single next week, right?"
Arthur was momentarily taken aback by the practical mention of his masked persona. He burst into genuine laughter, waving his hand dismissively. "Don't worry, Kasavin. The Composer is taking a well-deserved vacation. There will be absolutely no songs released for the next month, so there will be zero distractions to our market reach."
The entire development team laughed easily, a comfortable, deeply familial camaraderie washing over the room.
Ross Dalle leaned against the edge of the table, crossing his arms. "I must say, the cinematic trailer we cut together is provocative enough on its own. I honestly don't think you could steal our audience right now even if you actively tried."
Arthur nodded, his expression shifting from lighthearted to sharp and intensely focused.
"Alright then," Arthur commanded smoothly. "Kasavin, contact all the major Stellarcasters that we have sponsored in the past. Tell them to be online and ready to stream for the exact minute of our trailer release. But don't reveal any details to them beforehand. Let them experience the shock completely blind."
The team smiled, giving their synchronized, confident nods of confirmation.
Hitting the upload button on this trailer meant they were officially locking in their unchangeable release date. As the department heads dispersed to finalize the preparations, a heavy, exhilarating mix of sheer excitement and nervous anticipation began to slowly creep into the walls of Round Table Studio.
…
Several hours later.
In a comfortably messy apartment on the other side of the galaxy, the popular Stellarcaster Roric was currently live on stream. He was sweating profusely, his fingers aggressively mashing the buttons on his controller.
He was in the middle of a Hades run with the Pact of Punishment completely maxed out. He was currently attempting the absolute hardest challenge the game had to offer, a feat only a handful of elite Stellarcasters had managed to clear.
Unfortunately, luck was not on his side tonight.
"I swear to god, chat!" Roric shouted, desperately dashing away from a barrage of lasers as his health bar plummeted into the red. "This game is sentient! It knows exactly what Boons I need for my build, and it has actively decided to fuck with me by not giving them!"
A split second later, a stray projectile clipped his character.
[DEFIANCE DEPLETED]
[THERE IS NO ESCAPE]
Zagreus collapsed, and the screen faded to red.
Roric dropped his controller, burying his face in his hands with a heavy groan. The multi-million viewer chat immediately exploded with emotes, laughing at his misery.
: R.I.P Bozo!
: The House Always Wins!
: Imagine not getting a single Hermes dash lol.
Roric sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He checked the time on his secondary monitor. His eyes widened slightly.
"Alright, alright, laugh it up," Roric chuckled, seamlessly transitioning his stream overlay from the game feed back to his main chatting screen. "I'm putting Hades down for today. But chat, today... I actually bring you something incredibly special."
The rapid-fire chat instantly slowed down, a collective wave of curiosity washing over his massive audience.
"Hoho, don't look at me like that. It is actually not from me," Roric teased, a massive grin spreading across his face. "It's from Round Table Studio."
Roric clicked a button, bringing up a partially redacted email on the stream overlay. "About an hour ago, I got a direct email from the Production Head at RTS. They thanked me for constantly streaming their games and for being one of their very first supporters. And then... they gave me this."
Roric clicked a secure hyperlink. A sleek, minimalist video player popped up on the screen. The only thing visible was a countdown timer, ticking down the final three minutes.
The chat absolutely erupted.
: NEW RTS GAME?!
: YOOOO! IS IT THE RUMORED POKÉMON REGION?!
: NO WAY! HADES DLC?! ARE WE GOING TO OLYMPUS?!
Every wild speculation imaginable was thrown into the chat. Roric watched the timer tick down, his own heart hammering in his chest with anticipation.
"Ten seconds," Roric whispered, leaning extremely close to his monitor.
The timer hit zero.
The video immediately began to play.
A beautifully haunting, classical choral track filled the stream's audio. The visuals faded in, displaying an incredibly wealthy, gaudy man wearing a colorful masquerade mask. He was casually sitting on a small wooden boat, floating down a pristine, sunlit canal.
: Whoa... look at that architecture!
: Is that Planet Vorcia? It looks exactly like the Core Rims!
The trailer suddenly hard-cut to a shadowy alleyway. The music shifted, growing tense. A gorgeous woman in an elegant, deep-red dress was secretly handed a small pouch of money from a mysterious man hidden entirely in the shadows.
"What is this, chat?" Roric asked aloud, his eyes wide as he processed the staggering, hyper-realistic graphics. "Is this a brand-new IP? It looks like a movie!"
The video cut back to the masked man from the boat. He was now strutting arrogantly through a bustling, beautifully rendered stone courtyard, surrounded by heavily armored guards holding massive polearms. He was clearly an incredibly important, untouchable political figure.
The scene transitioned again. A massive, vibrant street party was in full swing in the town square. Confetti fell from the sky, and fire-breathers entertained the massive crowds.
: PARTY TIME! [Celebration Emote]
: The lighting is actually insane.
Then, the woman in the red dress from the alleyway made her move. With a charming smile and her cleavage prominently displayed, she gracefully approached the masked nobleman and his guards. She whispered something into the nobleman's ear, smoothly persuading him to step away from his retinue and join her in the dancing crowd. The arrogant man, blinded by his own lust, easily agreed.
"I'll be honest, chat," Roric chuckled nervously. "I probably would have followed her into the crowd too."
: Roric is down bad!
: RIP Roric's wallet.
But then, the cinematic trailer took a sharp, dizzying turn.
The camera angle abruptly switched to a first-person perspective, violently spinning and weaving through the chaotic, dancing crowd, tracking the masked nobleman from a predator's point of view.
: Whoa, this camera angle is making me dizzy.
: Wait, where are the guards?
CRACK!
A sickening, visceral sound of metal violently piercing flesh echoed through the audio.
The chaotic music instantly cut out.
The vision blurred. The trailer shifted into breathtaking slow motion. The masked nobleman, violently ripped from his reverie, was suddenly clutching his own neck, his eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated terror. He looked across the crowded square, making desperate eye contact with his heavily armored guards standing helplessly in the distance.
Then, his knees buckled, and he dropped dead onto the cobblestones.
The dancing crowd screamed in horror, violently parting away from the bleeding corpse.
Standing directly behind the fallen noble was a man. He was dressed in immaculate white robes, a red sash tied around his waist, and an eagle-beaked hood pulled low to completely conceal his eyes. Slowly, the man raised his wrist. A lethal, perfectly engineered hidden blade was strapped to his forearm, the steel gleaming with fresh blood.
All hell broke loose. The heavily armed guards roared, drawing their broadswords and rushing directly toward the hooded figure.
He dropped into a combat stance, and a blindingly fast, hyper-lethal action montage began.
Inside his streaming room, Roric leapt entirely out of his chair, grabbing his head with both hands.
"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Roric screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice peaking the microphone. "WHAT IS THAT?! HE JUST ASSASSINATED HIM IN PLAIN SIGHT!"
The streaming chat was moving so incredibly fast it was completely illegible. It was an absolute explosion of pure, unadulterated hype.
On the screen, the hooded figure systematically dismantled the heavily armored guards with brutal, fluid precision. It was a lethal dance of parries, disarms, and counter-attacks.
Roric was gripping the edge of his desk, his eyes practically glued to the monitor. The stream chat was moving at lightspeed, a blur of pure adrenaline.
But then, the camera panned. While Ezio was busy dispatching the guards, the other gaudy nobleman who had been conversing with the target was currently sprinting away in sheer terror, desperately fleeing down a narrow alleyway.
: Now what?
: He is getting away!
: The other noble is running!
Then, the unexpected happened.
Instead of chasing the man through the dense, panicked crowd, Ezio turned toward a sheer, three-story stone building. Without breaking his stride, the protagonist leapt up, grabbed a jutting brick, and began to scale the vertical wall with absolute, gravity-defying ease.
: PARKOUR!
: PARKOUR!!!
: YOOOO!
"What the fakk?!" Roric shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. "He is just climbing the wall! Look at those animations!"
The high-octane melee combat seamlessly transitioned into a breathtaking chase scene. The camera followed Ezio as he sprinted across the terracotta rooftops. He leapt effortlessly from roof to roof, vaulting over chimneys and sliding under clotheslines while tracking his target from above.
Down on the streets, the terrified noble finally arrived at the courtyard of a massive cathedral chapel. Several stationed guards instantly recognized his status.
Panting heavily, the noble pointed frantically toward the shadows of the chapel doors. "To the entrance!" he ordered, his voice trembling. "Hide! Do not let him see you! Wait for my command!"
The heavily armed guards immediately pressed their backs against the stone pillars, concealing themselves perfectly in the shadows of the entrance, ready to ambush the assassin the second he dropped down.
: Okay, this guy actually has a brain at least.
: Trap set!
: Don't go down there!
A dark shadow suddenly swept across the gap between the buildings. The cinematic camera shifted, panning high above the roof. The piercing, iconic caw of an eagle echoed across the audio track.
Ezio stepped into the frame, his back to the camera. He walked out onto a thin, wooden perch jutting out over the sheer drop, his white robes billowing in the wind.
"Now what?" Roric whispered, leaning so close to his monitor his nose almost touched the glass. "Does he know there is a guard down there?"
: Don't jump!
: He is going to break his legs!
Ezio simply leaned forward and dropped into the abyss.
The wind rushed past the camera. Ezio plummeted toward the courtyard, and just before hitting the stone pavement, he shifted his momentum. He landed with absolute, flawless ease, hitting a perfect three-point contact stance on the cobblestones.
Roric actually gasped out loud. The chat completely lost its mind at the superhero landing.
Seeing his trap had failed to catch the assassin off guard, the noble stepped out from the chapel doors. He was flanked by his hidden guards, a smug, overly confident smirk returning to his face.
"What an impressive display," the noble goaded, stepping forward to taunt the kneeling assassin. "A pity... I could not let your father live to see it."
Ezio froze. The hooded assassin slowly stood up.
: His father?
: Lore drop!
: Who is this noble?!
The noble chuckled darkly, pacing in front of his armed guards. "As for your mother... once I have dealt with you, I promised I will give her my full attention."
Ezio's posture shifted. He slowly raised his left arm, reaching out toward his target. He tensed his wrist, preparing to unleash his hidden blade.
But then...
BOOM!
A deafening explosion of gunpowder perfectly synchronized with the heavy ringing of the chapel bell.
Smoke violently billowed from a concealed barrel hidden beneath Ezio's wrist bracer. A lethal lead bullet pierced straight through the air, slamming directly into the noble's chest.
The nobleman's smug expression vanished. He collapsed backward, dead before he even hit the ground. His pristine porcelain mask fell from his face, landing on the cobblestones and shattering into a dozen pieces.
The camera rapidly zoomed in on the flowing blood pooling around the shattered mask.
The screen cut to black.
A sleek, metallic title faded into the center of the screen: ASSASSIN'S CREED.
Roric sat in his chair, completely paralyzed for two full seconds. Then, he exploded.
"HE HAD A GUN?!" Roric screamed, jumping out of his chair and pointing violently at his chat monitor. "CHAT! HE HAD A GUN INSIDE HIS WRIST! WHAT WAS THAT?!"
He bounced excitedly between his camera and his chat feed, his mind completely blown.
"The parkour! The graphics! The stealth! The lore!" Roric yelled, grabbing his hair. "Round Table Studio just invented an entirely new genre of video games again! Are you kidding me?!"
The streaming chat was an absolute blur of hype.
: A WRIST GUN!!!
: TAKE MY CREDITS NOW!
: RTS HAS DONE IT AGAIN!
: THIS LOOKS SO SICK!
Across the galaxy, the cinematic trailer was currently garnering millions of new views every single second. With this single upload, Round Table Studio had locked in their release date. And as the hype swept across the net, the entire galactic gaming industry was collectively holding its breath.
⋘ 𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒂.. .⋙
🎮:
- Stardwey Valley: Completed.
- Hades: Completed.
- Pokémon: Completed.
- Sky: Children of the Light: 66%██████▒▒▒▒ Paused...
- Assassin Creed: 82%███████▒▒
🎬:
- Spirited Away: 51%█████▒▒▒▒▒
♬:
- Your Song – Elton John (ch.9)
- A Lovely Night – La La Land (ch.20)
- Merry Go Round of Life – Howl's Moving Castle (ch.25)
- Small Fragile Hearts – Victor Lundberg (ch. 27)
- Skyfall – Adele (ch. 29)
- No Time To Die – Billie Eilish (ch. 30)
- Yesterday – The Beatles (ch. 32)
- Lovely – Billie Eilish, Khalid (ch. 47)
- Best Part – H.E.R. feat. Daniel Caesar (ch. 67)
- Lovely Day – Bill Withers (ch. 68)
- My Song – Labi Siffre (ch. 75)
- Isn't She Lovely – Stevie Wonder (ch. 89)
- Gotta Catch 'Em All – Pokémon OST (ch. 90)
- Don't Stop Me Now – Queens (ch. 102)
- Grow As We Go – Ben Platt (ch. 102)
- Feeling Good – Michael Bublé (ch. 104)
- You'll Be In My Heart – Phil Collins (ch. 105)
- We Will Rock You – Queen (ch. 108)
- The Bones – Maren Morris feat. Hozier (ch. 110)
- Achilles, Come Down – Gang Of Youths (ch. 111)
- Wind of Change – Scorpions (ch. 113)