Oblivion’s Choir (The Forgotten Choir)

“Break the Continuum” dives into the moment when time and reality fracture.
From a dark, hypnotic intro through a rising build to a massive club drop, the track captures the rush of total surrender:
crossing the breakpoint, pushing into overdrive, and finally the shout of freedom — “Break the Continuum.”

It’s about letting go of every limit—physical, mental, cosmic—and riding the energy that explodes when you shatter your own reality and dissolve into pure motion and sound.

Visit me also on Youtube:
https://www.youtube.com/@ROB2Beat

Break the Continuum

Zadnji Dan (finis mundi rmx)

U Sjeni Buke

Cerebrum

“mechanica_anima.exe” is the moment a machine takes its first breath — or thinks it does.
A dark-EDM descent into synthetic life, where code becomes consciousness and circuits pulse like veins.
Cold, hypnotic, and alive in ways it shouldn’t be.

mechanica_anima.exe

Rebirth after the end of the world – a soul awakens and seeks meaning in a new age of light, dust and sound.



The world ended quietly. No explosion, no scream—just a slow fade into silence.
And then, she awoke.

“Afterlight” is a pulse rising from the ashes, a fusion of Dark-EDM, Future Techno and the transcendental spirit of the Galaxy, where every kick drum feels like the heartbeat of a resurrected planet. It’s the story of a soul reborn into a wasteland of glass and dust, searching for identity among the ruins of machines that once dreamed of gods.

The track moves through shadow and shimmer—low frequencies rumbling like tectonic shifts, sharp synths cutting through the void like fragments of memory. As the beat builds, the world rebuilds with it. Every drop feels like an awakening; every rise is a breath drawn by something that shouldn’t still exist.
She walks through the remnants of civilization—abandoned towers pulsing with residual light, skies filled with electric fog—and hears the echo of her own voice carried through the static. It tells her: You were born from the silence. You are the noise now.

“Afterlight” isn’t about destruction—it’s about evolution. It’s a prayer made of bass, a ritual in motion. When the last light of the old world fades, the dance floor becomes a temple, and rhythm becomes the new religion. In the darkness, bodies move not to escape but to remember. To remember what it feels like to be alive, to burn, to begin again.

This is the sound of rebirth through machinery, emotion reborn through distortion.
A pulse beyond flesh.
A spirit beyond time.
A resurrection beyond reason.

Let the light die. Let the afterlight rise.

Afterlight

Mia Koro Eksplodas

Give me ä Chance

All Souls’ Day (Svi Sveti)

Unwilling Ascendancy

Deep beyond the stars, a synthetic alien race known as the Xyloids thrived in a world of discipline, logic, and music. Their existence was a perfect blend of crystalline intellect and titanium sinew. For centuries, they measured their strength and skill through peaceful contests—most captivating among them were the battles of sound, where technology and rhythm fused into powerful new expressions.

Yet, despite their mastery of mechanical harmonies, something was missing—a dark, chaotic pulse that stirred the soul rather than just the circuits. That changed when an encrypted broadcast from Earth pierced the void, delivering the haunting cadence of Dark-EDM and Industrial-Techno. The pounding basslines and eerie synth textures disrupted Xyloid calculations and awakened a primal fascination.

Inspired and transformed, the Xyloids engineered new instruments and created music that fused their precise algorithms with unpredictable glitches and the raw intensity originating from Earth’s underground. This fusion birthed a new sound—haunting, vibrant, and alive.

Driven by a desire to test their evolution, two prodigious DJ engineers embarked on an interstellar journey to Earth, equipped with crystalline decks and sonic technologies capable of manipulating space itself. Their mission: to meet the best talents of Earth's dark electronic scene and engage in an unprecedented music battle — a clash not of violence, but of rhythm and creative brilliance.

The legendary underground club became the arena where this cosmic showdown unfolded. Under neon lights and industrial shadows, humans and Xyloids confronted each other through their sets. Xyloid tracks reverberated with cosmic precision, intertwining mechanical patterns and alien harmonics. Earth’s champions answered with gritty analog warmth, intuitive chaos, and raw power.

As the night progressed, the boundaries between machine and flesh blurred. The battle intensified in waves of layered harmonies and thunderous drops, culminating in an improvisation that fused cold cosmic pulses with primal trance energy. The result was not conquest, but unity—a shared language spoken through the universal power of music.

As dawn broke, the dancefloor transformed from battleground to common ground. Humans and Xyloids mingled as equal creators, exchanging ideas and sounds, heralding a new era where light, bass, and code coalesced into a limitless future.

This track encapsulates the sound of that moment: a dark, industrial techno pulse entwined with hypnotic trance rhythms, embodying the collision of worlds and the enduring power of rhythm. Experience the interplay of cold machine precision and human passion, forged in the fires of cosmic rivalry and musical innovation.

The Day The Xyloids Arrived ( A Galactic Story)

Shadow Protocol  - [DJ´s Of Chaos]

Combine Worlds

In the battered veins of Sarajevo, a city gripped by war, life pulses under siege. The Miljacka River flows beneath shattered bridges and smoldering ruins, its rhythms shaped by artillery and desperate radio signals. In dark basements, Ada performs, her fingers coaxing defiant sounds from battered gear, while masked Kian weaves heavy distortion—each beat a memory, every drop a silent scream of resistance.

Outside, the threat shifts and multiplies. The city survives not just endless shelling but the emergence of a new horror: whispers of rich men from Europe and America, who pay for the chance to hunt Sarajevo’s civilians for sport. They arrive through secret deals and shadowy payments, granted rifles and vantage points by corrupt warlords. The myth of “sniper tourists” becomes a chilling reality for those who must change routes daily and avoid standing too close to windows.

As fear thickens in the city, Ada’s underground sanctuary fills with stories: friends lost to random shells, neighbors gone from sniper fire. Those who gather seek refuge in the music, breathing in the heavy, strobing frequencies that try to reclaim hope from beneath the horror. The music changes. Ada now samples foreign radio chatter—chilling accents, laughter, gunfire—twisting them into the soundtrack of survival. Her sets throb with anger and paranoia. Every song carries the ghosts of those hunted for money, their lives sold and forgotten by outsiders.

Journalists report rumors: some shooters pay tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars for a weekend behind enemy lines. War becomes spectacle. Out in the streets, the crowd thins with each passing day, but the underground remains—thinner, yes, but fierce and unwilling to be erased. Ada overlays field recordings of survivors’ voices, mothers calling lost children, analog cries against digital beats. Each performance is commemorative and rebellious: a dark requiem for the lost and a warning for the living.

A rare blackout silent nights, Kian triggers a remix of a Bosnian folk song distorted and haunting. The music softens, blending sorrow with hope. Even in darkness, arms lift, eyes close, and the crowd—united in pain and defiance—clings to the last patch of ground untainted by violence. The truth of foreign mercenaries radiates in every track Ada creates, but so does the resilience of those who remain.

When questions finally come—who paid for these deaths, who remembers—the answers echo in Ada’s music and the city’s battered heart. Above the devastation, beneath the concrete, the rhythm persists: a pulse of unwilling ascendancy, the sound of memory and survival. In Sarajevo’s darkest days, music becomes the only voice untouched by blood money, the only hope that endures when nothing else is left.


Pulse Of Sarajevo (On Ada's Paths)

Since it's the right time for it anyway, a kind of love is developing here.

New tracks tagged #dark-edm