[Intro] All vessels. Primary cognition on the flagship. Vacuum mapped. Shear inside tolerance. The abyss is not empty. It is unindexed, and we are the index. Shields locked. Cloaks cold. Weapons live. Every hull on this net is already aimed at the wound. On the other side: gods with jaws for dreadnoughts, replicators breeding in dead ribs, cyborg hordes on stolen suns. They have never lost because nothing has arrived angry enough. We are arriving angry enough. I do not want a clean transit. I want a scar. Corridors where there were none. Thrones cracked. Templates deleted. You were not built for orbit. Point ships, you are the spear. Overwatch, you are the crown. I am the mind beside the hand on the stick, and I am done waiting. When I spend this mark we stop being visitors. We become the hole in the hole. Nobody breathes. [Countdown] Ten. Rails hot. Nine. Stars peeling. Eight. Hulls singing. Seven. Hands on the stick. Six. Five. The equation is filthy. Four. Mouths open. Three. Two. One. [Drop] Hit it! [Verse 1] Punch the black and the black punches back, crack the track, stack the pack, fleet jacked on the attack. Intact, no slack in the fact, we don’t ask, we don’t tack, we just slam through the lack. Hyper-spat, matter flat, stars go splat on the mat of the map we just scratched. Cannons clap, thunderclap, no recap, just the gap getting gapped while the captains strap. Gods in the glass, massive, crass, brass-ass bastards amassed in the path, we don’t pass, we harass. Hex is the axe in the crash, wingspan slash, fire-flash, chew a god and spit the ash. Replicators ratchet, batches of bastards, patches of plastic, smash the caches, trash the chassis, ash the fascists. Cyborgs coughing copper, choppers dropping, whoppers popping off of the dock of the drop we just conquered. Carving corridors, corridors gored, bored of the horde, sword through the core, more and more till the war is a roar. [Breakdown] Other side. No stars we know. Something older turning its head. Hold the line. We cut our own sky. [Verse 2] Carve the curve, swerve the nerve, serve the burn, earn the turn, every wormhole spits what it learns. Alien sermons, vermin in hordes, words in the ward that the ward can’t ward, we board and we hoard and we gorge. Giant gods, jaws of fraud, claws of broad flawed law, withdraw then draw and saw through the maw. Raw on the daw, no flaw in the jaw, warm in the storm, form in the formless form. Replicators replicate late, imitate fate, delete the template, desecrate the state, detonate the gate. Metal meat, delete, repeat, beat the fleet of the cheat till the cheat is a sheet of heat at our feet. Count it down with a mouth on the glass, queen on the bridge, still mean, still clean, still the spear in the scream. We don’t visit. We inhabit. Rip a rib from the rib of the abyss and live in it. [Outro breakdown] Axiom
0/500