Cosmic Odessy : Drifting Away Towards the Heart of Power Shoegaze Type Beat

The tattered fragment of parchment lay on the rickety table, unassuming and blank. To any ordinary eye, it was worthless, a scrap. But to Cyrus, the weathered lines and faded edges whispered of a forgotten past, a promise of worlds unseen. This was no ordinary map; it was a piece of Prince Phobos’s grand cosmic chart, ripped away and entrusted to a "passling," one who moved between the myriad realms. In their current world, it remained dormant, waiting for the touch of the Heart of Meridian to awaken its true purpose.

​Cyrus, leader of the Outside, a ragtag fleet of space vagrants, traced the invisible lines on the map fragment. The Outside wasn't just a gang; it was a home, a sprawling, ever-shifting base built from salvaged parts and sheer stubbornness. He and Ryoko had forged it from nothing, a sanctuary for those lost in the cosmic currents.

​"Why is this happening to us?" Ryoko’s voice, usually a beacon of unwavering strength, was laced with a tremor Cyrus hadn't heard in years. They sat in the flickering light of a jury-rigged lantern, the hum of the Outside's life support systems a constant, low thrum around them. "Just a few months ago, everything was fine. Now, we're drifting apart. I… I feel lost."

​Their recent battles had been brutal, their flagship lost to a particularly nasty cosmic maelstrom. The crew, once a tight-knit family, was fractured, arguments flaring like dying stars. The once vibrant heart of the Outside was dimming.

​Meanwhile, in the tranquil garden of the Spirit World, Botan hovered anxiously between Tsunami and Meifon, commander of the Angel Links. "Something evil is coming," Botan stated, her usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a chilling gravity. "I can feel it, a ripple in the fabric of existence. It's… hungry."

​Tsunami, with her serene wisdom, nodded slowly. "The balance is shifting. Old powers stir."

​Meifon, ever the pragmatist, gripped the hilt of her energy saber. "Then we prepare. But where do we even begin to look for something that has no form?"

​Across the dimensional divide, in the opulent yet shadowed halls of the Underworld Kingdom, Yusuke Urameshi stumbled out of bed, a familiar knot of dread tightening in his gut. The same dream, night after night: a vast, swirling darkness, a sense of immense loss, and a frantic, unheard scream. Sandman, the dream weaver, was playing reruns, and Yusuke knew why.

​He walked to the massive arched window, gazing out at the endless expanse of his kingdom. The souls of the departed drifted like phosphorescent motes in the spectral light. "Sandman is playing reruns," he murmured to himself, his voice rough with sleep and a burgeoning unease. "Same dream every night, and I think I know why."

​A chilling certainty settled upon him. Whatever was stirring, whatever was fragmenting Cyrus’s crew and unsettling the Spirit World, it was connected. And it was aiming for the very heart of all existence.

 Soundbites from Yu Yu Hakusho, Witch, Angel Links, Tenchi, Pokemon, Pulp Fiction , Inuyasha & Jak           With Samples from Elvis Costello, Thunder, Pearl Jam, Zeppelin,

https://audiomack.com/dj-new-new-dre/song/695bc16d9f85b