[BLACK] No wind. No birds. Just something moving beneath the soil. [one distorted heartbeat] They told us— you reap what you sow. [small laugh] Funny. Nobody asked... who taught the seed what to become. [STUTTERING ARP — one note begins multiplying] I watched everybody waiting for the world to change— while feeding it everything they hated yesterday. Fear into fear. Name into name. Father into child then wondering why the child carries the same. We called it history. [beat] The ground called it— rain. [BOOM-BAP KICK ENTERS] See— every word was a seed. Every silence was too. Every door we slammed grew somewhere we never thought to look through. Every "I love you." Every "fuck you." Every time somebody whispered, "I'm fine," while something underneath them grew. [SUB-BASS AWAKENS] And now— the field is moving. Not because something's coming. Because everything already came. [VOICE SPLITS — LEFT / RIGHT] LEFT: What did we plant? RIGHT: What did we become? CENTER: Wrong question. [ALL SOUND CUTS] What are we feeding now? [ONE MASSIVE INHALE] [THE FIRST DROP BEGINS BUT NEVER FULLY LANDS] Don't call this judgment. Don't call it fate. Don't blame heaven for what we kept putting on everybody else's plate. Look at your hands. There's dirt in the lines. Some of it yours. Some of it mine. Some from people who died before either of us ever opened our eyes. [ARP STUTTERS FASTER] And still— something green came through. [COMPLETE SILENCE] That's the part nobody fucking told you. The harvest isn't death. It isn't punishment. It isn't the ending. [whisper] The harvest... is when the seed finally gets to see what it became. [LOWEST SUB IMPACT] So— before you reach for the fruit... before you blame the root... before you decide which parts of this garden deserve to be removed— look down. [heartbeat] Something is growing from the footprint you just made. [VOICE — almost smiling] Welcome... to the beginning of the harvest. [DROP] WE BECOME WHAT WE GROW.
