MATTaFact woke up, but not as someone who had simply been sleeping. No, he awoke—as if for the first time. His mind was blank, a fresh slate smeared only with the vague impression that he had always been. No past, no childhood memories, no name. Just existence.
Yet, amid this void of identity, there was something else. Them. The ducks. Yellow, glaring, grinning. Their beady black eyes pierced through his thoughts, their laughter a jagged sound, like static from a broken radio. They taunted him—not with words, but with knowing. They knew something he didn’t.
He stumbled through the nothingness, searching for an answer. Then, he found it. A mirror.
It wasn’t just a reflection. It was time. Within its glass, he saw the past and future, tangled together in a chaotic, pulsating rhythm. Faces blurred, beats distorted, echoes of voices and melodies crashed over him like waves. He saw himself—not just as MATTaFact, but as every MATTaFact that ever was and will be.
The music was inside him. It was him. Noise. Chaos. Hip-hop beats warped beyond recognition, experimental rock screaming from the void. Every note, every distortion was a piece of the puzzle, each crackling frequency a memory of something he had lost.
The ducks quacked in disapproval.
MATTaFact grinned.
It was time to make them listen.
Yet, amid this void of identity, there was something else. Them. The ducks. Yellow, glaring, grinning. Their beady black eyes pierced through his thoughts, their laughter a jagged sound, like static from a broken radio. They taunted him—not with words, but with knowing. They knew something he didn’t.
He stumbled through the nothingness, searching for an answer. Then, he found it. A mirror.
It wasn’t just a reflection. It was time. Within its glass, he saw the past and future, tangled together in a chaotic, pulsating rhythm. Faces blurred, beats distorted, echoes of voices and melodies crashed over him like waves. He saw himself—not just as MATTaFact, but as every MATTaFact that ever was and will be.
The music was inside him. It was him. Noise. Chaos. Hip-hop beats warped beyond recognition, experimental rock screaming from the void. Every note, every distortion was a piece of the puzzle, each crackling frequency a memory of something he had lost.
The ducks quacked in disapproval.
MATTaFact grinned.
It was time to make them listen.
- Category
- Music Experimental Music Category E
- Tags
- Noise Music, Noise Core, Experimental
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