Ritual of “Pretty Halo.”  
Where devotion meets descent — a cinematic re-imagining of the original track.  
AI-assisted production by Ashen Nemesis (The Jackal) blending darkwave, metal, and experimental ambience.

🕯️ Featured line:
“Pretty halo, here’s a delicate rose… that folds up when you get too close.”
original song on youtube: https://youtu.be/wNXRmOpeeBg

Pretty Halo

Heaven Sent by Lizzy D is a cinematic darkwave lament — a fusion of pain and purity, produced by Ashen Nemesis.
Lyrically exploring envy, mortality, and divine punishment, the song carries Lizzy D’s signature duality: beauty wrapped in defiance.

Heaven sent - The summoner

Calypso (Eyelash) is a mythic descent into obsession and reflection — a cinematic metal odyssey by Ashen Nemesis (The Jackal).
Combining violins, 808s, and emotional falsetto, the song explores the line between love and annihilation.

Calypso (eyelash)

Good Times by Ashen Nemesis (The Jackal) is a haunting reflection on nostalgia, love, and the echoes of what was.
A cinematic fusion of lofi textures, 808s, and rock emotion — it captures that feeling of seeing the stars one last time with someone you can’t forget.

Good times (into the Black)

A ritual for those standing in the dark.
Written and directed by Ashen Nemesis.
AI-assisted, human-driven, born from survival.

If you need help, call or text 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline).

#AshenNemesis #988 #AIassisted #RitualMusic #DarkMetal

Into The Black

Nine Eight Eight (fog of war)

The Mask is about power, control, and the faces we wear to survive.

"Chains made of glass, priest or disease — who do you see beneath The Mask?"

Written and directed by Ashen Nemesis.
AI-assisted. Human-driven. Forged in the ritual.

👁️ Leave a comment — what’s your mask hiding?
🔥 Repost if you’ve ever had to rebuild yourself from the lies.

The Mask

A hymn carved in emerald and bone. Only in the Mountains is a descent through Appalachian myth and romantic decay — a song born between candlelight, static, and the ghosts of blue eyes that never fade. Mandolins echo through fogged valleys before distortion claws its way in — a confession of love, faith, and fatalism sung under the same moon that watched the first sinner fall.

This is Appalachian soul twisted through ritual metal — where every heartbeat feels ancient and every kiss feels cursed.
🕯️
“Now here comes the hourglass sands,
As I warsh the souls and dirt off my hands…”