Airwaves Abode, Night of the Crimson Lunar Eclipse & Sir Cedrick the Proud Hard Rock Type Beat (Intro Beat)

 It’s that dream again.  

The radio tower looms against the horizon, skeletal steel fingers clawing at the sky. Its beacon pulses in silence, though no sound escapes. I feel like I am waiting for something — a signal, a summons, a verdict.  

The fortune teller’s words echo in my skull:  

"On the night of the red moon, the snake will slither and bare its fangs."  

The Syndicate had laughed at her, dismissing omens as superstition. But the Syndicate doesn’t need corpses that can’t fight, soldiers who have lost their taste for battle. They need survivors. They need those who can endure the silence between heartbeats, who can stare into the abyss and not blink.  

And now, the abyss stares back.

---

🩸 The Warning

The red moon rises, swollen and heavy, bleeding across the clouds. Shadows stretch long and thin, twisting into serpentine shapes. The air tastes of iron and static. Somewhere beneath the tower, something stirs — scales scraping against concrete, venom dripping from unseen fangs.  

I know this is no dream.  

The fortune teller hadn’t been warning us of a beast, but of a trial. The snake is not flesh but fear itself, coiling around the hearts of those who falter.  

---

⚔️ The Journey

The Syndicate has sent me here, alone, to prove my worth. To climb the tower, to face whatever waits at its peak. Each step upward feels heavier, as though the steel itself resists me. My breath fogs in the cold night, and the hum of unseen machinery vibrates through the bones of the structure.  

Halfway up, I glimpse movement — shadows slithering, whispering promises of rest, of surrender. But surrender is death. And death is useless to the Syndicate.  

---

🔮 The Trial

At the summit, the red moon hangs impossibly close, its light painting the world in crimson. The snake reveals itself — not a creature, but a reflection. My own face, twisted, fanged, eyes burning with hunger.  

"You have begun a journey," the fortune teller’s voice returns, softer now, "which will require all your strength just to survive."  

The snake lunges.  

I do not raise a weapon.  

Instead, I bare my own fangs.  

---

🌌 The Awakening

The tower dissolves. The moon fades. I awaken, drenched in sweat, the taste of venom still on my tongue.  

It was a dream.  

But dreams are pro

phecies.  

And the Syndicate is waiting.  

Soundbites from Witch, Cowboy Bebop, Card Captors , Naruto , Yu Yu Hakusho , The Great Mouse Detective,With Samples from   Witch, Scorpions,  MCR, Bad Religion, Dexter Wansel,