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We don't follow the light—we dance with the dark. We find beauty in broken things, melody in the silence between screams, and truth in the echoes most try to forget.

This isn’t about rage. It’s about release. Not about rebellion—but resurrection. Our songs don’t ask to be heard. They demand it.

We bleed on every note. We burn through every verse. We are the storm before the calm, the choir at the edge of ruin.

And when the crowd goes quiet, and the world falls still, you’ll hear us— in the hum of distortion, in the ghost of a forgotten chord, in the memory of the music that once saved you.

We are not here to entertain. We are here to awaken.

This is not performance.

This is possession.