Take a wonderful journey filled with beautiful sounds and instruments. 
Composer Fernando Melo
Lead Guitar Fernando Melo
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnsnwlEH9NrnHrcIpCSOWbw https://open.spotify.com/artist/1ERiLI8Cf2OrHTBwhUstvP

Shooting Star

Let's Overcome And Chain Our Tremors

“man, WHAT?!” new EP out now! mogleymiroma.com

R E G R E S S

1996

Underground future club energy.
Broadcasted from the PDX node.
Signal locked. Club constructed. Ritual held.
This is Node‑4.

—

🎛️ Performed + encoded by: Kik Science
📍 45.5231°N / 122.6765°W
🎚️ Recorded live during the SummerSet signal arc.
🌀 Soundtrack to a new frequency.

NODE-4 @ PDX

1.	Manuel Roverano - Right to The Sun 
2.	Manuel Roverano - Switch

Right to The Sun

Rae Sremmurd - No Type (Ollie Aitken Rolling Edit)

Blow Your Mind (On A Roll Edit)

 A great ballad song (Featuring the angelic voice: Ava Bonam)

True to the night

Only Love

This song is more of an experience. Sit back relax and enjoy!!!
You Tube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnsnwlEH9NrnHrcIpCSOWbw
all major streaming services https://open.spotify.com/artist/1ERiLI8Cf2OrHTBwhUstvP

Existence

Bass-driven electronic project blending techno, progressive, and future acid. Known for immersive soundscapes and heavy low-end, Kik Science delivers transmissions built for the floor and the circuit.

Each release and set channels atmosphere ∴ intensity ∴ precision — shaping the underground frequency.

Label: Sub Sync Records (@subsyncrecords)
Affiliates: G-Mafia Records (São Paulo) ⌖ Mustache Crew (Brazil) ⌖ Galactic Bamboo
SSR HQ: @subsyncrecords
Axis: YYC ⇌ BER

◉ Our story continues…

The stars had dissolved into pale threads of light, bending endlessly around them. Driftspace was never silent; it hummed—low, unstable, alive. Neon pressed her hand against the bulkhead, feeling the vibration pass through her skin like a second pulse.

“We bought time,” Thorne said, hands moving across the helm. “But the Vantoth won’t stay scattered for long. They’ll recalibrate, triangulate our echo. Mystica’s reach doesn’t end at the corridor.”

Neon studied him. His voice was too calm, the same way it had been when he bluffed the cascade. She hated how convincing he sounded—even to her.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

Thorne hesitated. His eyes flicked to the navigation screen, where a single glyph burned faintly in the corner: ∴.

“That’s not a drift marker,” Neon whispered. “It’s a seal.”

Thorne nodded once. “Old code. Buried before the wars. Coranthium doesn’t just power ships, Neon—it opens gates. If Mystica wanted it, it’s because they’ve found the lattice.”

Her stomach dropped. The lattice. A myth, or so she thought—an interlocked network of corridors between sectors, some stable, some collapsing. Legends said the ancients locked it to prevent entire systems from folding into each other.

“And you… you have the key?” she pressed.

Thorne’s hands stilled. The hum of driftspace grew louder, or maybe it was just the pounding of her heart.

“Not the key,” he said finally. “A shard.”

Before she could respond, the console flickered. The ∴ seal pulsed once—twice—then spread across the screen like veins of light. Driftspace around them warped, folding inward.

“They found us,” Neon breathed.

“No,” Thorne said, jaw tightening. “Someone else did.”

The ship shuddered violently. Outside, driftspace cracked like glass, revealing a sphere of impossible color—a station, suspended where no station should exist, thrumming with signals older than their war, older than Mystica.

The shard in Thorne’s hand glowed to life, resonating with the fractured seal.

“Welcome to the lattice,” he muttered.