Then came the screams. Not the melodic, synthesized screams of entertainment, but the raw, terrified shrieks of thousands of people waking up from a dream to find themselves standing in a ruin. The velvet melted away to reveal rusted steel. The gourmet food became gray sludge on plastic trays.

Inside the club, the atmosphere was always charged. The walls were adorned with neon lights and graffiti, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and smoke. The music was a fusion of genres, from techno and house to hip-hop and rock, and the DJs were always pushing the limits of what was possible.

The Rebel Rhyder Asylum Tour was born, and it would take the club's unique experience to cities all around the world. It was a bold move, but Rhyder was confident that the time was right to share the Rebel Rhyder Asylum's message of rebellion and self-expression with a global audience.

Because Rebel hadn’t been a patient. He’d been a warden. Eleven months ago, he’d been sent in by the Asylum Board to audit Dr. Thorne’s “Extra Quality” program. But Thorne had erased his memory, locked his voice, and made him forget. All except the one thing Thorne couldn’t take: the instinct to bleed.