Skunkworx & LDOT - Mutagenic [Full EP, 2025]

https://prekursor.bandcamp.com/album/... 00:00 LDOT - Mutation Interface (Intro) 00:44 Skunkworx / LDOT - Isotope X 07:06 LDOT - Inside Agent 12:14 Skunkworx / LDOT - Stress Test 21:00 Skunkworx / LDOT - Foresight If you want to add this to your bandcamp collection, get your free code here: https://dlcm.app/prekursor/mutagenic The rain never stopped in Hóng Wù. It fell through the uncaring sky like bad luck, bathing the city in misfortune. This had once been a thriving Special Economic Zone but the Generals had killed it when they released the Mutagen all those years ago. Rook stood in the doorway of what had once been a temple, his breath suffocated by the stale air. The jade plating on his skull ached with the cold of the sacremental. They'd told him the mutagen was a weapon that would quash Hóng Wù and halt the rebellions. That was before the prophecies started writing themselves in the cracks of the city. Before the children were born speaking in hexagrams. Before he took the bones of a shaman. The body at his feet was young, its wrists slit with ceremonial precision. The characters glowing on its forehead: 悔, pulsed to some unheard rhythm. He'd seen this corpse before, in seven-second stochastic futures. "You're late." whispered the cracked screen above the altar. There was the suggestion of a face through the endlessly glitching images. Part AI, part stock-market algorithm, part something that remembered when gods were simpler beings. Liquid crystal wept from the cracks in the glass. "The ritual won't wait." The kill-switch code hovered in his vision, the Generals' final solution written in blood-red pixels. The temple stank of sandalwood and spite. The chanting began. He remembered the briefing, the way the generals had smiled, their coffee steaming like dying breath. His bone hand moved first. The mirror exploded in a shower of liquid crystal. For a moment, Rook saw all the dying tomorrows at once: he was DNA as scripture, children with eyes like broken timelines, his own death rehearsed in endless variations. Too slow, he was always too slow. Darkness. Somewhere in the rain, a terminal screen flickered to life. Somewhere a lost algorithm whispered a name that wasn't his. Somewhere the city kept breathing and there was no one left who remembered how to stop it. The future, like everything else, had always been about surrender.