Dual Eclipse

Once, it was simply The Leviathan—a formidable frigate feared for its brutal efficiency and relentless pursuit of plunder. Her black sails struck dread across trade routes and naval patrols alike, and her hull bore the scars of a hundred battles. But her final voyage as a mortal vessel began when she chased a Royal Man O’ War deep into the Maelstrom Reach, far beyond any sailor’s charted waters.

Outgunned and outnumbered, The Leviathan was torn apart by cannon-fire and swallowed by the storm. Her captain, drenched in blood and desperation, cried out—not to gods, but to the Deep One Who Waits, a nameless entity whispered of in sailor’s tales and ancient tide chants. The sea answered.

The wreck did not sink.

Instead, the waves stilled.

The air grew cold.

And something answered back.

From the abyss rose The Leviathan Ascendant—rebuilt not with timber and iron, but with barnacled bone, cursed iron, and sails stitched from the shadows of drowned sailors. Her crew, once mortal, now walk the decks bound in silence, their eyes glowing with deep-sea fire. No storm dares touch her now, for she is the storm.

It is said she sails alongside the Flying Dutchman, answering to no fleet and no flag—only the will of the dark entity that gave her immortality. Some believe the two ships race each other across the endless horizon, dragging the souls of the damned behind them like a wake of ash and sorrow.

Others say the Dutchman leads the dead...
But The Leviathan Ascendant leads the damned.

The Leviathan Ascendant

Once a revered naval tactician and explorer, Admiral Kraylen Morvain was feared for his ruthlessness and praised for his victories. But ambition gnawed at his soul like worms through wood. Craving immortality and dominion over the seas, Morvain sought the forbidden—a pact with both a voodoo priestess exiled from the Crescent Isles and a dark sorcerer cast out from the northern isles of dread.

In an unholy ritual aboard his flagship, The Leviathan Ascendant, Morvain offered up his crew’s lives and his own mortal soul in exchange for eternal command of the sea. The priestess bound his spirit to the ocean’s currents, while the sorcerer fused his essence with the abyss itself.

Transformed into one of the undead, Morvain no longer sailed for conquest—but for collection. Now, his phantom fleet glides through unnatural mists, dragging sunken souls into the deep at the behest of Davy Jones, to whom Morvain owes a terrible debt. His crew, cursed mariners condemned to eternal service, whispers in forgotten tongues as they row beneath blood moons.

It is said the metal octopus on his tricorn hat writhes with each soul claimed. And that his pistol, The Gasping Widow, never needs reloading—for it feeds on the breath of the dying.

The Tale of Kraylen Morvain

As the legend goes, The Leviathan Ascendant was not merely a symbol etched on black sails—it was a prophecy lived out at sea. On the storm-lashed evening chronicled in whispered tales, Admiral Kraylen Morvain and his dread vessel, Leviathan Ascendant, were seen steering willingly into the jaws of a churning maelstrom—a spiraling vortex that split the ocean and sky with shrieking winds and wrathful waves.

Witnesses claimed the storm itself recoiled at Morvain’s approach, as if recognizing the soul-stealing darkness that clung to his hull. The three-masted behemoth sailed defiantly into the abyss, her ghostly lanterns aglow with an emerald flame, her crew howling oaths to the deep. Some say he vanished not in death, but into another realm—an undersea dominion of the damned—where his cursed fleet waits to rise again with fury and frost.

Sailors still shudder when the sea grows eerily still, for the whirlpool may open once more—and Morvain, The Widow’s Grin at his side and The Gasping Widow playing her dirge, may return to claim what was left unfinished.

On the High Seas

The Gasping Widow is a cursed hurdy-gurdy carved from blackened wood, its surface aged and weathered by salt and time. Trapped within its hollow string box are the anguished souls of the damned—faint, screaming faces pressed against the inner walls, visible only when the crank turns and the wheel sings. It radiates a ghostly green-blue aura, chilling the air around it. When played, its haunting melody doesn’t just echo across the sea—it weeps. The music beckons the lost, disturbs the dead, and reminds all who hear it that some bargains are never broken.

The Gasping Widow

Few dared to sail the blackened waters off the Shattered Reefs, where Leviathan Ascendant was last seen cresting the waves beneath a roiling storm. The heavens were aflame with lightning, casting jagged halos across the ship’s weatherworn hull and the blasphemous standard of The Devouring Abyss.

Admiral Kraylen Morvain stood at the helm, unflinching amid the chaos, his coat billowing like a death shroud. The ship did not flee the wrath of the sea—it commanded it. Waves split before its prow like frightened beasts, and the very wind bent around its sails, propelled not by nature, but by the pacts Morvain had struck with entities far older and crueler than man.

Sailors watching from distant cliffs claimed the storm did not touch the Leviathan Ascendant—it followed it. Thunder rolled in rhythm with the dirge from The Gasping Widow, his cursed hurdy-gurdy, and lanterns burned a cold green light as the ship vanished into the fog, leaving behind only the echo of cannonfire and dread.

To this day, pirates speak of the cursed fleet that sails without horizon, dragging the souls of the damned in its wake, their eyes glowing like embers from the abyss. And always at the center, sails torn but proud, is Morvain’s ghostly flagship—seeking vengeance, gold, or perhaps something darker still.

The Devouring Abyss

A Farewell Before the Storm

The deck creaked beneath Kraylen Morvain’s boots as he knelt beside the lifeless form of Captain Dorian Vex. The air was thick with salt and silence, broken only by the soft lap of waves and the distant caw of gulls circling overhead. The battle was done — their enemies vanquished, but at a cruel cost.

Dorian’s coat, once vibrant red, was now torn and darkened by blood. His saber, still sheathed, lay beside him as if he'd chosen honor over desperation in his final breath. Kraylen brushed a strand of wind-blown hair from Dorian’s face, the gesture roughened by calloused fingers yet tender with memory. They had sailed together since boyhood — fought beside each other, bled for each other, dared the wrath of sea gods together.

Now only one of them would sail again.

Kraylen stood as the horizon flared gold and crimson, the setting sun catching the sails of a lone ship gliding silently toward the edge of the world. It bore no crew. No colors. Just an empty helm and a course charted for eternity.

“They say the sea takes what it’s owed,” Kraylen muttered, voice hoarse. “But she took too much today.” "We'll meet again on the horizon, my friend."

He raised two fingers to his brow in salute, eyes never leaving the fading silhouette of the spectral ship. A final voyage. A final farewell.

The wind shifted, carrying with it a promise — one of vengeance, perhaps... or transformation. But for now, before curses and damnation, before black magic and whispers in the dark, Kraylen Morvain remained only a man saying goodbye to his oldest friend beneath the dying light of day.

We'll Meet On The Horizon, My Friend

Don't poke the lion in the cage or summon anything you cannot banish...

Devil in the Flesh

The Illusion of Reality

Threw around a royal road progression and improvised.

木の家

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To anyone who would like to stream my music while doing other things related to the entertainment industry. Feel free to do so, as long as you all let me know and give credit to where credit is due. 


Born in the last week of 1986, Draygo, is an electronic dance producer as well as guitarist. first started listening to trance in 2003 where he was inspired, through a dark patch of his life, he regained his composure and started writing music again. His love for  music is infectious. Draygo is inspired by several great psytrance producers such as Astral Projection, Blastoyz, Bizarre Contact, and Space Buddha just to name a few. He is also a professional chef, Twitch streamer (only a some days), cosplayer, and fitness enthusiast. He is expressing his world through music instead of through words. Since words can be misinterpreted, he believes that music has a bigger impact on the mind, body, and soul.

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