Track 1: Red Echo Transmission

(We hear wind, a pulsing beacon, and faint whispers in static—unintelligible but familiar.)

“…—Jack? Come in—you're not alone—Repeat—Red Echo—trans—”

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Frozen air, a voice repeats,

Through static dreams and signal beats.

Metal groans beneath the weight,

Of memories lost, and time too late.

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The tower calls, though no one's near,

Its whispers bleed into the ear.

A loop of ice, a thought confined—

You hear it now: it’s in your mind.

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Red Echo... calling through the snow.

Signal deep, but nothing grows.

The past won't sleep, the dead won't fade—

The frost remembers what we betrayed.

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The ship is still, the dials red,

The logs are blank, the crew long dead.

But still that tone repeats again,

A ghost of light, a voice of when.

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(Synths detune into icy shrieks, layered with low distorted guitar—like an old radio dying while trying to scream.)

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Red Echo… signal never dies.

Frosted eyes, forgotten skies.

Turn the dial… hear the past...

This message loops… until the last.