Jeffrey[/@ch_6] sits rigidly in an armchair, his gaze unyielding.] Marvin, the youngest brother, stands nearest the window, gripping the microphone and humming the opening notes. Morton, second youngest, tunes his vocals, nerves evident in the tremble of his hands. Jeremiah tests the bass guitar, thumbing the strings, while Timo deftly adjusts his lead guitar. Josiah, the oldest, twirls the tambourine, casting small flecks of light. The brothers exchange glances, waiting for the sign to begin. Jeffrey remains silent and stern, his eyes fixed on the group. The brothers steel themselves, launching into their rehearsed song. Harmonies fill the room, each voice blending seamlessly, instruments weaving together. The scene breathes with creative energy, yet a tense undercurrent persists, rooted in Jeffrey's presence.

Morton[/@ch_2] falters, missing a crucial step in the choreography. A brief silence follows, broken only by the fading echo of a misplayed chord.] Morton's face flushes, his shoulders drooping as his brothers glance over, concern etched across their features. Jeffrey shifts in his chair, the leather squeaking ominously. The sunlight seems to dim, casting longer shadows across the room, amplifying the discomfort. "Morton, outside. Get a switch off the tree," the command comes, cold and unwavering. Morton hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Jeffrey," he replies, swallowing hard.

Morton[/@ch_2] steps out onto the porch, greeted by a world that feels both familiar and hostile. The late afternoon sun flickers through the leaves, dappling the ground with shifting patterns. The branches sway gently in the breeze, but the task ahead is heavy.] Morton trudges to the old oak, the crunch of his footsteps loud in the otherwise tranquil yard. He scans the branches, searching for a switch, fingers trembling. The birds chirp overhead, unaware of the gravity of the moment. He selects a thin, sturdy branch, snapping it free. His grip tightens around the switch, and he pauses, closing his eyes briefly as he steels himself. The weight of expectation and dread presses down, and the door looms as he returns inside.

Morton[/@ch_2] reenters, switch in hand. His brothers avert their eyes, tension thick in the air. Jeffrey stands, casting a long shadow over Morton, the rest of the room holding its breath.] Jeffrey approaches Morton, his expression unwavering. Morton stands stiffly, the switch held out in front of him. Jeffrey takes it, and the room feels colder, the afternoon light unable to penetrate the veil of fear. , [@ch_3], [@ch_4], and [@ch_5] exchange glances, their faces a mix of helplessness and sorrow. The instruments rest forgotten. The only sound is the creak of the floorboards as [@ch_6]Jeffrey steps forward.

Jeffrey[/@ch_6] raises the switch. Morton braces himself, eyes squeezed shut, as the first strike lands. The brothers flinch as the harsh sound echoes, the sunlight now pale and cold.] Jeffrey's actions are methodical, each strike accompanied by stony silence. Morton's pain is visible, though he tries not to cry out. [@ch_1], [@ch_3], [@ch_4], and [@ch_5] look on, torn between fear and the impulse to intervene. After several moments, Jeffrey finishes, tossing the switch aside. The room remains tense, the brothers overwhelmed by the injustice.

Jeffrey[/@ch_6] returns to his chair, the room is silent save for Morton's quiet sobs. The band members gather around him, their solidarity a small comfort against the afternoon’s cruelty.] Marvin kneels beside Morton, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jeremiah and Timo exchange a silent promise, eyes burning with resolve. Josiah sits close, tambourine forgotten, offering a quiet strength. "We’re with you, Morton. No matter what," whispers Marvin, the brothers forming a circle around Morton as the sunlight slowly returns, warming their faces and hinting at hope beyond the darkness.