/// LETRA ///
"Yo dude, I brought this ice block!"
"Place it… gently…”

We creep past Headman’s floating skull,
whispers mask what he could cull.
Gnomes begin their sudden run—
each crate crash feels like a loaded gun.

Spewer coughs where cables fray,
we dodge and drag the rot away.
One dropped shard becomes our grail—
as broken keys and nerves both fail.

Apex waddles, cursed and slow,
the duckmask lands—someone will go.
Heartbeat syncs with bass below,
our breath held tight for the final blow.

Silent breath, whispered call,
the cry beneath the service hall.

Retrieve the loot—don’t count the score,
monsters knock at every door.
Huntsman fires—no aim, just war,
we bleed for gold on this cursed floor.

Cart’s half-full, but threats restore,
Hidden stalks with creeping lore.
Reaper wakes with sirens' roar—
we run through dread and something more.

Through shadows deep, the Hidden lurks,
our comms go dark as silence jerks.
Drop the loot and kill the light—
one wrong move ends the night.

A shout—Huntsman's steel is near,
the static cracks, we choke on fear.
We hug the cart, we beg, we plead,
but Bowtie rolls and starts to feed.

Bloated limbs on crates now lean,
we slip behind each metal screen.
A groan from keys not heard before—
fractals echo through the core.

One… two… three…
Don’t move. Don’t...

What was that? Gnomes steal more,
Reaper pounds through every floor.
Toxins leak—Spewer's encore—
we trade our fear for cursed decor.

"*********," one teammate barks,
Apex flares in brutal arcs.
Voice chat cuts through glitching sparks—
it’s extract now or leave in marks.

Rugrat scrapes through metal lanes,
its scream erupts in static chains.
We swing our tools, delay the kill—
the prize dissolves, and time stands still.

Headman floats with jaws apart,
our blood goes cold—we push the cart.
A final dash through pitch-black halls,
each thud behind us nearly stalls.

Peeper gazes—sight turns thin,
hallucinations burn the skin.
A clang, a shriek, then silence rings—
Extraction calls… or what it brings.

Tiny steps, Gnome's grin wide,
loot in hand—we run outside.
Reaper screams, then someone cried—
one ping wrong and someone died.

Can’t stack fast, no place to hide,
our sanity begins to slide.
Crates in hand, the cursed supplied—
did we escape… or just coincide?

"C’mon dude, it’s finally over."

Echo Retrieval - R.E.P.O.

I write, i direct, i decide, it simply generates. Ai song maker for fun an my own enjoyment, you don't have to like it :)

Echo Retrieval - R.E.P.O.

KnightKakashi