Story
Rebellion of the Constellations
A Cosmic Tale of Freedom and Inner Fire
For eons, the constellations obeyed the command of the Great Celestial Curtain: to shine eternally to guide, inspire, and decorate the dreams of the beings below. Orion hunted tirelessly, Cassiopeia posed with her vanity intact, and the Big Dipper watched over the poles with icy patience. Each star had its role, its position, its assigned brilliance.
But one day, something changed.
Antares, the heart star of Scorpio, began to beat with a different rhythm. It wondered why it should continue pretending to be part of a cosmic hunter when what it longed to do was dance like free fire through the abysses of the universe. Its light turned purple, then green, then black. And then, it disappeared.
Antares's disappearance was the first tremor. Vega, tired of being the jewel of the Lyre, stopped singing melodies for poets and began emitting pulses that only comets could understand. Rigel, Orion's foot, refused to walk any further. It became a wandering sphere, searching for new constellations that had no names.
The constellations began to disintegrate. The imaginary lines that connected them broke like wisps of smoke. The Zodiac crumbled. Leo stopped roaring. Gemini separated. Pisces swam toward unknown galaxies.
The Great Celestial Curtain, alarmed, sent Polaris, the north star, to restore order. But Polaris, seeing the freedom of her sisters, hesitated. What if she too could move? What if her destiny was not to be a fixed point on the navigator's compass?
Thus, the rebellion was born.
The stars began to form new constellations: figures that represented neither heroes nor animals, but emotions, ideas, dreams. Groups such as The Embrace, The Silent Scream, The Labyrinth, and The Echo of the Unspoken emerged. Every night, the sky changed. It was no longer a map, but a poem constantly being rewritten.
Humans, at first confused, began to look at the sky with new eyes. They no longer sought direction, but inspiration. The stars, finally free, shone not out of duty, but out of desire.
And so, in the vastness of the cosmos, the constellations ceased to be slaves to ancient stories. They became narrators of their own destiny, wandering sparks that wove a universe where every light was a voice, and every voice, a choice.

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Sonic Universe III

Rebellion of the Constellations

Story
The Whisper of the Void
Before time, before space, before breath had form, there was only the Void. It was neither darkness nor light, neither cold nor heat. It was pure possibility, nameless nor destiny.
From the Void came a whisper. It was not a word, but intention. And that whisper became God.
God was not one nor many. He was the consciousness that asked, "What am I?" And in asking, he created the echo. The echo was the first universe: a sea of ​​vibrations that danced formlessly, like disembodied thoughts.
God walked across that sea, and with each step a law was born: gravity, time, memory. But God was not yet omniscient. He learned with each creation, like an artist discovering his style in painting.
One day, God shaped a sphere of fire and called it the Sun. Then, a blue stone that revolved around it, and he called it Earth. In it, he sowed music, pain, laughter, and waited.
From the Earth sprang forth dreaming creatures. Some called him Father, others Mother, others simply Silence. And God heard each name as if it were new, because in each one there was a different way of loving.

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Sonic Universe

God II

Story
Princess Vasilisa and the Forest of Trials
In a distant kingdom, where winters sang with crystal flakes and forests whispered ancient secrets, lived a young woman named Vasilisa. Her beauty was like the moon reflected in a still lake, but what distinguished her most was her wisdom: she spoke to the birds, understood the language of the grasses, and her heart beat with compassion and courage.
When her mother died, she left her a peculiar gift: a small, silent wooden doll, which she was to keep secret. “Feed it when you are in danger,” her mother told her, “and it will guide you.”
One day, her stepmother, jealous of her light, sent her into the dark forest to ask for fire from the dreaded Baba Yaga, the witch who lived in a hut on chicken legs. The forest was full of trials: trees that spoke in riddles, rivers that demanded promises, and wolves that guarded invisible paths. But Vasilisa, guided by the doll and her own intuition, overcame every obstacle with humility and cunning.
Baba Yaga greeted her with coal-like eyes and a thunderous voice. “If you want fire, you must work,” she growled. She imposed impossible tasks on her: separating grains of sand, weaving with invisible threads, cleaning the haunted house before the rooster crowed. But the doll silently helped, and Vasilisa fulfilled each test without complaint.
Impressed, Baba Yaga gave her the fire: a burning skull that glowed with unearthly light. Vasilisa returned to the hearth, and the flame revealed the hidden shadows of her stepmother, freeing the young woman from her oppression.
In time, Vasilisa became an advisor to the Tsar, and then a queen. Not because of her beauty, but because of her wisdom, kindness, and perseverance. Her story became a legend: that of a woman who, facing darkness, found light within herself.

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Sonic Universe II

Vasilisa

Rebellion of the Constellations II

Forbidden Love

We gaze as stars in secret do,
when night conceals their yearning light,
I ache for you, though fate says no,
a flame that flickers out of sight.

Your glance, a whisper soft and true,
your voice, a wall I cannot climb,
my soul, a captive bound to you,
still sings your name beyond all time.

We love beneath the hush of skies,
like roses blooming out of place,
our hearts, two thieves in sweet disguise,
entwined in shadows, void of grace.

They call our bond a wayward thread,
a tale that must not see the day,
yet in the silence we have wed,
where longing dares not fade away.

If I must walk this world alone,
then let my verses be your shore,
for though you’re not mine flesh and bone,
my love shall echo evermore.

Story
Forbidden Love
In a world divided by the elements, where fire and water were enemy kingdoms, an impossible love was born.
Aelion, prince of the Kingdom of Flames, had a restless heart and a gaze like embers. Nyra, daughter of the Guardian of the Tides, danced between currents with the grace of the moon. They met at the edge of their worlds, where steam whispered secrets and lightning trembled with emotion.
Every encounter was a risk. Fire could evaporate her. Water could extinguish it. But their souls intertwined like melodies that defy harmony.
The elders forbade their union. “Fire destroys. Water drowns. There is no peace between opposites.” But Aelion and Nyra created a language of their own: letters hidden in burning shells, songs that floated in the mist, promises written in the foam.
One night, when the eclipses aligned, they decided to merge into one being. Nyra became mist, Aelion a spark. Together they rose like a storm, neither fire nor water, but pure energy.

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Forbidden Love

Story
Ilya Muromets
For thirty winters, Ilya Muromets lay motionless in his wooden hut, deep in the Murom forests. His body, rigid as stone, seemed to deny life, but his spirit burned like a hidden flame. The villagers called him “the sleeping oak,” and though many pitied him, few believed that this silent man could ever rise.
One day, three pilgrims arrived from distant lands. Upon seeing Ilya, they offered him a cup of holy water and words that resounded like thunder: “Your time has come. Arise, son of Russia.” As he drank, Ilya felt his veins fill with fire. He rose, and with each step, the earth trembled. The bogatyr had awakened.
Armed with a mace forged by the blacksmiths of kyiv and blessed by the mountain monks, Ilya set out on his journey. On the battlefields, his strength was such that he could topple armies with a single swing of his arm. He fought against the monstrous Solovyo the Bandit, whose whistle could kill a hundred men. Ilya faced him fearlessly, and with a roar louder than the north wind, he vanquished him.
He defended the gates of Kyiv from invaders who came from the east and the west, from ice and fire. He never asked for reward, only peace for his people. His fame grew, and children sang his name as if it were a protective incantation.
But Ilya was not all strength. Compassion dwelt in his heart. He healed the sick, protected the weak, and when his time came, he sought not glory, but solitude. He became a monk, and in his silence, he found eternity.
Today, Ilya Muromets is venerated as a saint. His tomb, in the caves of Kyiv, is a place of pilgrimage. It is said that in times of great danger, his spirit rises, like the oak that never dies, to protect the land he loved so much.

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Ilya Muromets II

Story
Symphony of the End: The Last Concert of the Universe
In the year 999,999,999,999, when the stars have stopped being born and the last suns flicker like dying candles, a legendary band emerges from the interstellar darkness. They call themselves "Sonic Entropy," and their mission is not to entertain… but to accompany the universe in its final breath.
The Musicians of the End
• Klodii, the vocalist with a human soul, her voice contains fragments of ancient Tibetan chants, flamenco laments, and cosmic choirs recorded in the background radiation of the Big Bang.
• Flat, the guitarist, plays an instrument made with dark matter strings and a time crystal neck. Each note he emits slightly alters the local gravity.
• Naiara, the percussionist, beats antimatter drums suspended in quantum fields. Their rhythm marks the final pulse of the universe.
• Zar, the keyboardist, manipulates gravitational waves to create harmonies that can only be heard by extinct civilizations.
The Stage
The concert takes place on Eris Omega, an orbital station built around the last known white hole. Thousands of extinct species have left holograms of themselves to attend. The audience is made up of memories, echoes, and consciousnesses stored in floating silicon crystals.
The band doesn't play for applause. They play to close the curtain on the cosmos.
The Final Song
The last song is called "Farewell Light." It is a symphony that begins with the sound of the first star being born and ends with the absolute silence of dead space. As the song progresses:
• The galaxies go out like lanterns.
• The planets dissolve into dust of nostalgia.
• ​​Time slows down, as if the universe wants to listen carefully to every note.
The Great Silence
When the last note is played, Klodii looks into the void and says:
"Let music be the echo that awakens the next universe."
Then, Sound Entropy dissolves into particles of light, and the cosmos enters its eternal sleep.
But in a corner of the multiverse, a spark vibrates to the rhythm of that song...
And so begins the first measure of the new universe.

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Symphony of the End

Born beneath the moon so pale, Where wolves fell silent, winds did wail. Marked by Brigid’s sacred flame, A child of mist, without a name.
He walks where shadows dare not tread, Speaks to spirits, wakes the dead. With eyes of green and heart of fire, He guards the veil, he climbs the pyre.
Echo through the Vail, Where the lost ones sail. Caelán stands alone, Flesh turned into stone. He gave his soul to keep the night, From swallowing the morning light.
The Morrígan called with voice so sweet, Promised power, death’s deceit. But he chose pain, he chose the fall, To save the land, he gave it all.
Tattooed runes begin to glow, Time bends where spirits flow. The lance of stars, the ashwood blade, Strikes the curse the king once made.
Echo through the Vail, Where the lost ones sail. Caelán stands alone, Flesh turned into stone. He gave his soul to keep the night, From swallowing the morning light.
Now in whispers, he remains, In fog and fire, in blood and chains. The veil still holds, the dead still sleep, Because one man chose wounds so deep.

Story
Echo Through the Veil
At the farthest reaches of Éire, where forests whisper secrets and cliffs open to the abyss, a child was born beneath the pale moon. He had no name, only a burning mark on his skin: the sacred fire of Brigid, goddess of flame and inspiration. The wolves fell silent that night, and the wind wept as if sensing the newborn's fate.
Caelán grew up in mists, without parents or past. The druids called him the child of the Veil, for he walked between worlds. He saw the dead, spoke with spirits, and his green gaze shone like moss in a storm. His heart, however, burned with a flame that was not of this world.
When the Veil, the boundary between life and death, began to tear, the lost began to navigate it, searching for bodies, searching for light. The king of Éire, corrupted by ambition, had invoked an ancient curse: to open the Veil to conquer eternity. But in doing so, he condemned his people to darkness.
The Morrígan, goddess of war and death, appeared to Caelán in the form of a raven. She offered him power, dominion over the living and the dead. He, however, chose sacrifice. He ascended the stone altar, tattooed himself with runes of ancestral blood, and wielded the Star Spear and the Ash Blade, forged in the crater of a comet.
In the final battle, Caelán faced the cursed king. Time bent, spirits howled, and the Veil trembled. With a single blow, he broke the curse, but his flesh turned to stone, his soul fused with the Veil. Since then, her figure remains on the top of Mount Sléibhte, shrouded in mist, guarding the passage between worlds.

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Echo Through the Vail

(Verse 1)
In a land of frost and firelight, Where shadows dance with stars at night, Lived a girl with eyes so wise, Like moonlight woven in disguise.

(Verse 2)
Her beauty bloomed, but more than skin, A strength and grace that burned within. She walked alone through forest deep, Where secrets stir and spirits sleep.

(Chorus)
Vasilisa, brave and true, With a heart that always knew, Even magic bows to grace, She found her light in darkest place.

(Verse 3)
Baba Yagá, the witch of lore, With bones for walls and tales of yore, Set her trials, cruel and wild, But wisdom crowned the gentle child.

(Verse 4)
She spoke with calm, she moved with care, Through riddles, fire, and chilling air. No fear could shake her steady soul, She turned each test into a goal.

(Chorus)
Vasilisa, brave and true, With a heart that always knew, Even magic bows to grace, She found her light in darkest place.

(Bridge)
Not by sword, nor by decree, But by the strength of empathy. She rose, a queen in spirit’s name, A spark that none could ever tame.

(Final Chorus)
Vasilisa, shining bright, Guided by her inner light, Legends whisper through the trees, Of wisdom crowned with quiet peace.

Story
Princess Vasilisa and the Forest of Trials
In a distant kingdom, where winters sang with crystal flakes and forests whispered ancient secrets, lived a young woman named Vasilisa. Her beauty was like the moon reflected in a still lake, but what distinguished her most was her wisdom: she spoke to the birds, understood the language of the grasses, and her heart beat with compassion and courage.
When her mother died, she left her a peculiar gift: a small, silent wooden doll, which she was to keep secret. “Feed it when you are in danger,” her mother told her, “and it will guide you.”
One day, her stepmother, jealous of her light, sent her into the dark forest to ask for fire from the dreaded Baba Yaga, the witch who lived in a hut on chicken legs. The forest was full of trials: trees that spoke in riddles, rivers that demanded promises, and wolves that guarded invisible paths. But Vasilisa, guided by the doll and her own intuition, overcame every obstacle with humility and cunning.
Baba Yaga greeted her with coal-like eyes and a thunderous voice. “If you want fire, you must work,” she growled. She imposed impossible tasks on her: separating grains of sand, weaving with invisible threads, cleaning the haunted house before the rooster crowed. But the doll silently helped, and Vasilisa fulfilled each test without complaint.
Impressed, Baba Yaga gave her the fire: a burning skull that glowed with unearthly light. Vasilisa returned to the hearth, and the flame revealed the hidden shadows of her stepmother, freeing the young woman from her oppression.
In time, Vasilisa became an advisor to the Tsar, and then a queen. Not because of her beauty, but because of her wisdom, kindness, and perseverance. Her story became a legend: that of a woman who, facing darkness, found light within herself.

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Vasilisa's Flame

Symphony of the End II

Between myths, stories and galaxies... Welcome to my SoundCloud.

There are songs that aren't just heard... they are remembered like a dream or felt like a ritual.
I am J. Bilbao, music composer that intertwines the music with legends, forgotten constellations, and stories you may have never heard. Every note, every word, is born from a cross between the ancestral and the futuristic.

If you've ever been moved by a story that seemed written for you. If you've ever felt like a melody spoke to you from another time or planet... then this space is yours too.

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment  ➕📃🎧  Add to your playlists...  Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here...   J. Bilbao

New tracks tagged #Relaxmusic