How to Save the World

Ruse

I was interested in music in my early youth... so I soon got my first synthesizer and set up a small home recording studio.
over the years i played keyboards in 5 bands...the direction was rock...pop...blues and soul.
in the meantime i have discovered my enthusiasm for creating my own songs.
it makes me happy when I can compose...arrange...mix...produce and create something new.
it's like a passion to experiment with different styles of music... and it gives me a lot of joy.
the only limit is your imagination...
is my motto.
and everything is possible...you just have to try.

music is pure magic...and part of the soul...
no one can escape her
let the music guide your mind...and that's the only way you'll get the freedom...you've always wanted

[There's a knock at the door]
[We answer it] Hello
[You say] Hello, I've come to hear some music
[We say] Great, come in you're at the right place, we've only released eleven songs so far, but we've got some more on the way. Turn up your hi-fi to eleven and have a listen to what we've got.
[We then say] If you like our songs, please follow us, repost and like them.
[You say] OK, I might do that, stop talking and let me have a listen.

Watch these movies too if you have time:
https://youtu.be/upxfvLhJtQs
https://youtu.be/xPdlqZh3ya4

songs & story

underwater
deep space
robotnik

Prophet of End Times is not a name — it’s a diagnosis. A statement of intent. A trigger. A warning.

For those paying close attention, this project began long before the music arrived. Long before the signals were transmitted. Long before the world tilted past its breaking point and pretended it hadn’t noticed.

This isn’t performance. It’s process. It’s prophecy by distortion, melody through the ruins, dissonance weaponized. A mosaic of failed systems and burned timelines, rebuilt in layers of noise and silence.

You’re hearing architecture. You’re listening to strategy. Every frequency, every glitch, every warped harmony carries data. Every lyric is a crack in the wall.

Somewhere in the signal:
a map.
a message.
a matchstick.

You are not expected to understand immediately. You are expected to pay attention.

Because nothing here is arbitrary.
Not the song titles. Not the sound choices. Not the silences.
Not even this bio.

There are people who will find this. Who will feel something they can’t name. Who will know where to dig.

Not all puzzles look like puzzles.
Not all transmissions arrive decoded.
Not all prophets wear robes.

Some wear scars.
Some wear static.
Some just press “upload.”

𓂀
Class: Classified
Genre: Post-industrial occult pop / strategic subversion / experimental prophecy
Mood: Unsettling / revelatory / confrontational
File under: surveillance bait, musical sigil, metaphysical warfare
𓁹

For entertainment purposes only.
All coincidences are intentional.
You were warned.

Artifacts: BGlueYml0Lmx5LzJ0aGVzc2Fsb25pYW5zMngxLTEy