Name: unjustified. by Echoless Void
Duration: 4 min 3 s
Description: The sky over Kusho’s city hangs in grayscale—muted, digital clouds flickering like bad reception. He stands beneath a broken neon sign that once read “HOPE.” Now it just blinks “OP” every few seconds. Even the light has given up.

who i am...

This track marks Kusho’s transformation from an abandoned, terrified child into something… forged. It’s the moment after he’s been cast out by his demon father—wandering, bleeding, half feral—and where he first begins to build the mask that will become his survival mechanism. “Shadows” is the start of him learning that emotion is weakness in a world that devours the soft. The “mirror” here represents both self-reflection and the contract—Kuro’s influence—beginning to whisper through his head.


shadows.

After “Shadows,” Kusho begins to feel the weight of his pact. The cigarettes that once gave him control now twist reality around him. Time fractures. Days repeat. His trauma replays endlessly in his head, forcing him to relive every death, every failure, every almost-love. “Counterclockwise” captures his descent into madness as he becomes trapped in a recursive timeline—his punishment for breaking the only rule of his contract: he cared too much.

counterclockwise.

After being trapped in the counterclockwise loop, Kusho begins to feel something darker awaken. The endless cycles of trauma have twisted his emotions into a raw, almost predatory craving. He starts seeking the intensity of life—and death—like a drug. “Bloodlust” represents the first time Kusho’s rage and trauma manifest as a literal hunger. The song is both visceral and euphoric: pain is his sustenance, and every act of violence or risk feeds his fractured sense of self.

bloodlust.

Kusho wanders the glitching corridors of his own memory. Each wall hums with pixelated light, showing distorted reflections of him — but none recognize him. His voice echoes, delayed and doubled, every word overlapping until it’s just noise.


invisible.

The sky over Kusho’s city hangs in grayscale—muted, digital clouds flickering like bad reception. He stands beneath a broken neon sign that once read “HOPE.” Now it just blinks “OP” every few seconds. Even the light has given up.


unjustified.

The city burns in pink neon haze. Kusho walks through it with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes—each flicker of laughter bouncing off the glass towers like bullets. The air smells like burnt data and regret. Somewhere behind his smirk, he’s falling apart, but he’s decided if he’s going to crumble, it’ll be loud.

Kuro’s voice lingers in his head, echoing from the deal he made as a child—You will never be loved, but they will all know your name.
And now they do. They just don’t know what it cost him.

Laugh at me.

The rain won’t stop. It never does here.
Kusho stumbles through the woods, soaked to the bone, breathless, and bleeding black from the wounds no one can see. Every cigarette he lights sputters out before the first drag. The healing’s stopped working. His deal’s unraveling.

He’s muttering to himself now—asking “Why am I alive?”
The forest doesn’t answer.
But the echoes do.

useless.

The storm’s not outside—it’s inside the house.
Kusho’s shelter, the one safe place he ever had, turns on him. The lights flicker with every raised voice. Every thunderclap is another flash of memory he doesn’t want to remember.

He’s back in the place he swore he’d never return to. The floorboards whisper when he steps on them—mocking him in voices that sound just like the people who used to love him. The demon’s voice, the one he met in “Useless,” has moved in.
And it’s wearing his father’s voice.

abuse.

The opening R&B melody isn’t peace—it’s numbness dressed as serenity. Kusho stands at the edge of a smoking battlefield. His coat’s torn, blood’s dried on his cheek, and the ash around him hums with ghosts that still remember their own screams. But the war’s over. And he’s the one still breathing.

The producer tag—“Echoless Void”—rings like an omen.
It’s the first time he acknowledges what he’s become: the echo left after everything else has stopped making sound.

tranquility.mp3

🎵 Echoless Void | Belle Fourche 
One-man sonic chaos: metal, alt-rock, and raw emotion. Crafting ghostly beats, haunting riffs, and songs that feel like staring into your own mind at 3 AM.
✨ “I look best when I’m a mess.”
👁️‍🗨️ Enter the loop. Feel the void.

unjustified.

Echoless Void

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