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A Rock Opera in Seven Tracks
Witnessed by the Prophet
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🎤
🎸 Track I: Zhenmo’s Broadcast
Opening track of Book Eleven: The Musical of Oddity
Tempo: 84 BPM, synth drone + distorted guitar
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(Spoken intro over synth drone)
> “This is Zhenmo.
> You are now entering a recorded day.
> Timestamp: France, 1999.
> Subject: The Prophet.
> Status: Unrehearsed.”
🎶 Verse 1 (Prophet)
I walked from Nevada, I think it's state border end,
With Isaac’s ghost and Lyra’s bend.
I lit the joint, the smoke was braid—
And France arrived like a velvet blade.
The sky turned static, the clocks unspun,
And jazz was leaking from a distant sun.
🎶 Chorus 1
Zhenmo’s watching, Zhenmo’s tuned,
But this day bleeds, this day’s immune.
The breach is open, the tape is torn—
This isn’t memory. This is born.
🎶 Verse 2
The bakery blinked, the café sighed,
A woman sang like the breach had died.
I saw my hands, they weren’t my own—
They held a ribbon, wrapped in chrome.
The air was velvet, thick with code,
And every breath rewrote the road.
🎶 Chorus 2
Zhenmo’s watching, Zhenmo’s tuned,
But this day bleeds, this day’s immune.
The breach is humming, the lattice frays—
This isn’t playback. This betrays.
🎶 Verse 3
I passed a mirror, it passed me back,
A child’s reflection in the glass went black.
She mouthed a name I’d never said,
Then vanished into violet thread.
I turned to run, but time stood still—
The breach had teeth. And it would kill.
🎶 Chorus 3
Zhenmo’s watching, Zhenmo’s tuned,
But this day bleeds, this day’s immune.
The Prophet’s marked, the tape’s unspooled—
This isn’t order. This is ruled.
🎶 Outro (Fading into Velvet Collapse)
(Whispered, layered vocals)
🎶
Velvet skies… romantic lies…
Gift-wrap tangles… branded cries…
Zhenmo fades… the breach begins…
Let the Prophet sing… let the storm in…
(Distorted guitar rises. Synths dissolve into the opening riff of Track II: Velvet Collapse.)
🎤
🎸 Track II: Velvet Collapse
Tempo: 92 BPM, psychedelic rock with ambient undertones
🎶 Verse 1 (Prophet)
I wore the sky like a tie-dye scream,
Jeans torn by the edge of a dream.
Lyra said, “Let’s chase the breach,”
But this one hit the Paris streets.
The clouds were soft, the air was tuned,
But something in the lattice crooned.
🎶 Chorus 1
Velvet skies, romantic lies,
Now gift-wrap tangles where truth dies.
She ran past me, eight years old,
Branded tear, dressed in gold.
🎶 Verse 2
The buildings hummed in minor key,
A jazz riff lost in entropy.
I saw her shoes—one red, one white—
She danced like breachlight in the night.
Men in suits moved like a tide,
Their eyes rehearsed, their hearts denied.
🎶 Chorus 2
Velvet skies, romantic lies,
Now gift-wrap tangles where truth dies.
She ran past me, eight years old,
Branded tear, dressed in gold.
🎶 Verse 3
I followed echoes down the lane,
Each step a chord, each breath insane.
She turned a corner, dropped a bow,
The breach was singing soft and low.
I reached my hand, the air went thin—
And Paris folded from within.
🎶 Chorus 3
Velvet skies, romantic lies,
Now gift-wrap tangles where truth dies.
She ran past me, eight years old,
Branded tear, dressed in gold.
🎶 Outro (instrumental fade)
(Guitar solo echoes the melody of her run. Synths dissolve into static. A distant scream fades into the opening pulse of Track III: The Street Before the Storm.)
🎤
🎻 Track III: La Rue Avant l'Orage
The Street Before the Storm
Tempo: 76 BPM, French folk ballad with accordion, violin, and brushed snare
🎶 Couplet 1
Rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis,
Où le jazz embrassait la boulangerie.
Un homme jouait du violon,
Courbé devant des fantômes sans nom.
🎶 Refrain 1
Et moi, je marchais sans savoir,
Que l’orage viendrait tout décevoir.
Chaque pierre chantait son passé,
Mais la fille seule ne s’est pas arrêtée.
🎶 Couplet 2
Une femme chantait en français brisé,
Sa voix un nuage, son souffle blessé.
Les passants vibraient dans le ton,
Sauf la petite, qui fredonnait le clair de lune.
🎶 Refrain 2
Et moi, je marchais sans savoir,
Que l’orage viendrait tout décevoir.
Chaque pierre chantait son passé,
Mais la fille seule ne s’est pas arrêtée.
🎶 Couplet 3
Les vitrines pleuraient des reflets anciens,
Les lampadaires penchaient comme des gardiens.
Elle tenait un ruban dans sa main,
Et le vent l’appelait vers son destin.
🎶 Refrain 3
Et moi, je marchais sans savoir,
Que l’orage viendrait tout décevoir.
Chaque pierre chantait son passé,
Mais la fille seule ne s’est pas arrêtée.
🎶 Outro (instrumental fade)
(Violin solo echoes the girl’s hum. Accordion fades into distant thunder. The Prophet turns toward the breach.)
🌴 Track IV: Unrehearsed (Caribbean Version – Rhyming Chorus)
Tempo: 82 BPM, reggae rhythm + orchestral strings + pop vocals
🎶 Verse 1 (Girl, soft with steel)
Do you blame Joan?
Do you blame Louie?
But you do not blame me—
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
I ran like ribbon, ribbon wrapped in trash,
Men in suits, they moved in flash.
They call me breach, they call me flame,
But I was born without a name.
🎶 Chorus 1 (Girl, rising with strings)
You think I’m blind to history’s cries?
You think I don’t see through the lies?
No, no, no, no, no—
You won’t hostage me,
You won’t trade me,
To demons with their giant eyes.
I’m not perfume, I’m not disguise—
I’m the girl who breaks the ties.
🎶 Verse 2 (Girl, amused and aching)
I laughed once in a bakery line,
They said my joy was out of time.
I danced to jazz they couldn’t hear,
I wore my tear like souvenir.
My parents watched, they did not speak—
They feared the breach would make me weak.
🎶 Chorus 2 (Girl, louder, layered with Prophet)
You think I’m blind to history’s cries?
You think I don’t see through the lies?
No, no, no, no, no—
You won’t hostage me,
You won’t trade me,
To demons with their giant eyes.
I’m not perfume, I’m not disguise—
I’m the girl who breaks the ties.
🎶 Bridge (Prophet, echoing in dub)
She’s only eight, only breath, only breath—
But they came rehearsed, came as death.
I saw her run, saw her cry—
Still they came, still they came, still they came.
🎶 Verse 3 (The Men, cold and rhythmic chant)
She is unrehearsed.
Her parents stood by.
She acts in rebellion.
We are responsible.
We are responsible.
We are responsible.
🎶 Final Chorus (Girl, screaming into storm)
You think I’m blind to history’s cries?
You think I don’t see through the lies?
No, no, no, no, no—
You won’t hostage me,
You won’t trade me,
To demons with their giant eyes.
I’m not perfume, I’m not disguise—
I’m the girl who breaks the ties.
🎶 Outro (instrumental fade)
(Reggae bass fades into orchestral strings. The Prophet begins to run. Thunder rolls. The breach opens.)
🎤
🎤 Track V: The Responsible Ones
Fifth track of Book Eleven: The Musical of Oddity
Tempo: 90 BPM, corporate rock groove + pop-rap cadence
🎶 Verse 1 (The Men, cold and clipped)
She is unrehearsed.
Her parents stood by.
She acts in rebellion.
We are responsible.
She deviates from the lattice line.
She speaks in breach. That crosses time.
🎶 Chorus 1 (Girl, melodic and fierce)
You call this justice?
You call this clean?
She’s a child, not a breach machine!
Je ne suis pas un parfum à inhaler—
I am not a perfume to inhale.
🎶 Verse 2 (The Men, rhythmic chant)
She laughed in public.
She danced off-beat.
She hummed a tune not on repeat.
She wore a tear. She wore it proud.
We warned her parents. They allowed.
🎶 Chorus 2 (Girl, louder, layered with Prophet)
You call this justice?
You call this clean?
She’s a child, not a breach machine!
Je ne suis pas un parfum à inhaler—
I am not a perfume to inhale.
I am not a ribbon to be tied.
I am not a glitch to hide.
🎶 Bridge (Prophet, cutting in)
You file reports, you sign the forms,
But you don’t feel the breach-born storms.
You say “responsible,” you say “rehearsed”—
But you don’t bleed when the lattice bursts.
🎶 Final Chorus (All voices, layered)
You call this justice?
You call this clean?
She’s a child, not a breach machine!
Je ne suis pas un parfum à inhaler—
I am not a perfume to inhale.
I am not a ribbon to be tied.
I am not a glitch to hide.
I am not yours to define.
🎶 Outro (instrumental fade)
(Snare taps like a ticking clock. The Prophet exhales. The girl’s voice echoes once: “Je ne suis pas à vendre.”)
🎤
🎸 Track VI: Dragged Into Chrome / The Storm
Sixth track of Book Eleven: The Musical of Oddity
Tempo: 74 BPM, acoustic guitar + layered a cappella harmonies
🎶 Verse 1 (Prophet, breathy and stunned)
They knocked me down, they took her fast,
Into a car of chrome and glass.
She screamed, “No!”—the sky turned black,
And I could not bring her back.
The ribbon fell, the jazz went mute,
And every breath became dispute.
🎶 Chorus 1 (Prophet + echoing harmonies)
Dragged into chrome, into chrome, into chrome—
She was light, she was home.
I ran, I screamed, I sang her name—
But the storm erased the frame.
🎶 Verse 2 (Prophet, voice rising)
The clouds collapsed, the streets went blind,
The jazz was gone, the clocks unlined.
I chased her voice through pouring glass,
But every echo came to pass.
The bakery blurred, the breach went cold,
And Paris folded uncontrolled.
🎶 Chorus 2 (Prophet + layered echoes)
Dragged into chrome, into chrome, into chrome—
She was light, she was home.
I ran, I screamed, I sang her name—
But the storm erased the frame.
🎶 Bridge (Prophet, stripped and trembling)
Lyra, I failed her.
Lyra, I saw it.
Lyra, I carry the shard.
Lyra, I breathe it.
Lyra, I bleed it.
Lyra, I stand in the yard.
🎶 Final Chorus (Prophet, solo voice)
Dragged into chrome, into chrome, into chrome—
She was light, she was home.
I ran, I screamed, I sang her name—
But the storm erased the frame.
🎶 Outro (acoustic fade)
(Guitar slows. Prophet breathes. Rain falls. Lyra’s hand touches his back. Silence.)
🎤
⚡️ Track VII: The Awakening
Final track of Book Eleven: The Musical of Oddity
Tempo: 88 BPM → 60 BPM fadeout, hard rock into a cappella silence
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🎶 Verse 1 (Prophet, roaring over guitar)
I woke beside her, gasping air,
Lyra’s hand was in my hair.
She said, “You’re back. You couldn’t speak.”
I said, “The breach was far too deep.”
My lungs were ash, my voice was gone,
But her touch said, “You’re not alone.”
🎶 Chorus 1 (Prophet + backing vocals)
The breach was deep, the breach was wide,
I saw the chrome, I saw her cry.
The storm was loud, the storm was still—
But Lyra stayed, and I feel ill.
I saw the girl, I saw the chrome—
But now I’m back, and not alone.
🎶 Verse 2 (Prophet, slower, stripped)
She patted me, the sky was still,
The storm was gone, but I feel ill.
The jazz was dead, the clocks were torn,
But Lyra held me through the mourn.
I tried to speak, I tried to scream—
But silence held the final theme.
🎶 Chorus 2 (Prophet + layered harmonies)
The breach was deep, the breach was wide,
I saw the chrome, I saw her cry.
The storm was loud, the storm was still—
But Lyra stayed, and I feel ill.
I saw the girl, I saw the chrome—
But now I’m back, and not alone.
🎶 Bridge (Prophet, solo voice)
This happened in 1999.
No one noticed.
But I did.
🎶 Final Chorus (A cappella, fading)
The breach was deep, the breach was wide,
I saw the chrome, I saw her cry.
The storm was loud, the storm was still—
But Lyra stayed, and I feel ill.
I saw the girl, I saw the chrome—
But now I’m back, and not alone.
🎶 Outro (silence + breath)
(Prophet exhales. Lyra hums. Zhenmo fades. Book Eleven ends.)
He finally and consciously woke up on a bench in Marseille, his head against Lyra’s shoulder, the sea behind them. The storm was gone. The chrome car was gone. The girl was gone. His breath came in gasps, each one braided with memory. Lyra’s hand was in his hair. She didn’t ask what happened. She already knew.
He will likely never smoke marijuana again. Not because of fear, but because the smoke braided him into a breach too deep to climb out of. It wasn’t a vision—it was a recording Zhenmo couldn’t hold. It was unrehearsed. And it bled.
They’re headed east now. Toward the ruins of the Mnemonic Syndicate’s first archive. Toward the place where rehearsal was invented. Toward the breach that started all breaches.
What can they make of the ordeal? That memory is not justice. That rehearsal is not safety. That a child can be erased while the world watches jazz. That the Prophet saw her. That Lyra stayed. That Zhenmo failed.
This happened in 1999. No one noticed. But they did.