Spectrum - Aurorium

The microcosm and the macrocosm align to bring this project to life. 2 souls, 2 bodies, 2 minds and 2 brothers transform their ideas into symphonies and dark, immersive atmospheres, with terrifying bass and heartbreaking highs, mixing and producing since 2022.

#PPMKSALVC 🇲🇽

Naturaiz Records (BRA)

https://soundcloud.com/vallak_live
https://soundcloud.com/adrianlivee

BOOKINGS 2025

• Paimon - 21 e 22 de Junho 🇧🇷
• Frenesi Crew - 25 de Outubro 🇧🇷

DarkPsy^Hitech ♈️
Hard Techno🤘🏻

seit  mit 16 j das erste mal Psytrance gehört habe es aber da noch nict so wahr genommen. erst 10 Jahre später leider aber es hat mich nicht mehr los gelassen bis ich ich das erste mal Darkpsy in Hamburg bei Alpha party  erlebt hab und osom mit das erste was ich lieben gelernt hab. ich habe einige set gemacht ohne viel wiesen aber alle aus dem Gefühl herraus. gerne kann Mann mich bookig mÖchte nur die Reisekosten keine Garage nur wenn was über ist

He did not wake up — he remembered that he existed.

Around him stretched an endless ocean of pale light, cold and lifeless like the gaze of an ancient god. 
No ground, no direction, only a crushing emptiness in which even thoughts grew heavy. And yet: beneath his feet stretched a disk of glass, thin as the ice on a dying pond.

Below, a clockwork of inhuman scale ground on — colossal gears spewing rusty sparks into the abyss, iron giants whose movements were so old they seemed to steer the very breath of the world. The sound of ticking was everywhere, a flat, malicious pulsing that seeped into his bones.

He stepped forward.
The glass trembled. Another step. A soft, hungry cracking.
With a scream that did not come from his mouth, but from reality itself, the world broke beneath him.
He fell — or rather: he was devoured.

The clockwork peeled flesh from thought, tore memory from consciousness as he plunged downward. Gears, their edges glowing with obscure colors, slashed past him so closely that they carried the whispering of lost souls.

Time had no name here.
He became a droplet in a black river, carried through planes of existence beyond understanding.

When his consciousness finally began to take form again, he saw:

Windows — cracks in the fabric of nothingness.
Beyond them: worlds never meant for human eyes.

The darkness itself breathed words into him, formless yet sharp:

Choose. But know: every step is a chain. Every choice a sacrifice.

He floated, alone with his fear, his hunger for meaning — and the knowledge that every world would change him.
Perhaps break him.
Perhaps erase him.

-Orv