AABCEKLMOST by Estoc Kablam

A collaboration forged across oceans through dying software, AABCEKLMOST represents a new low for club music. Unforgiving and run over with feculence, it bubbles forth like an unwelcome guest: cursing the land it spreads across and salting the dirt it passes over. Its arrival sounds of rotten thunder, a low and lonely crashing.

Cresting the horizon, it chokes the sky with its presence. A miasma lurches forth and spits out a dark glob of mud, landing lopsided at your feet. Your gaze catches the glimmer of a metal object lying at the center of it. You bend down to pick it up, and a chill runs down your spine as your fingers make contact with its impossibly smooth surface. As you turn over the vile sphere in your hands, your fingers brush against an uneven engraving. You wipe away the thick layer of muck to reveal two words: OBLATE MASCK. Dare you speak them aloud? Before you can think twice, the impulse shudders through your body, and you bray the phrase in a voice entirely unlike your own. The shape begins to grow colder as the echo of what lurched forth from you seems to bounce around the landscape, growing louder. The sound distorts itself into a klaxon. It rings in your head and rattles your bones. You will not make it out alive, of that you are certain. You let yourself fall limp, but a phantasmic force seems to catch you, and within an instant, a searing pain passes through your body. It is gone as quickly as it came, and you are left with a feeling of strength you have never known before. There is but one thought that crosses your mind: no longer shall the grim boots of kings bear their weight upon this world.

You look down and find yourself still holding the metal talisman. Three more phrases appear, engraving themselves into its faces: COMBAT LAKES, BLEAK MASCOT, BLOCK AS MEAT. These words turn over in your mind, their meanings lost to time but their power intact. Before your body can utter them, the dark cloud descends upon the valley you call home, bathing the sky in a desolate and hazy shade. Light seems to dissolve as if swallowed up by this velvet fog. Then, without warning, the winds begin to pick up. A frigid cyclone tears itself through your being, growing with intensity around the orb, which has begun to grow in size. It shakes itself free of your grasp, but you still feel locked to it. As it grows, it also begins to rise into the sky, dragging you up with it. The surface is now completely covered in the rugged engravings. You don’t have to read them to know what they say. They scream themselves in your head like a cacophony of banshees calling a sailor to his death. The same searing pain rips through you, only this time, consciousness escapes you, and the world falls to darkness around you.

As you wake, you find yourself unsure of how much time was lost. Your vision clears, and you find yourself at the bottom of a large crater. The sphere and the fog are gone. You lay alone in a land you once called home. As you sit up, you notice deep red lettering all over your arms. There is only one thing it could be. And there is only one thing left to do…
ABLATE SMOCK
A BLAME STOCK
TACKLES A MOB
ATLAS BECK OM
CAB SKOAL MET
OAKS MELT CAB
BACK SEA MOLT
COBALT ASK ME
LOT BAKE SCAM
TO CALM BEAKS
SAMBA LOCKET
SETBACK LOAM
SLAKE AT COMB
KABLAM ESTOC

[REDACTED]

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