answers.

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 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.

🎵 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.