Stone Cold

You don’t survive this much without scars.
Stone Cold is a war cry disguised as a concept album — a ten-track odyssey through grief, betrayal, numbness, rage, and ultimately, godlike rebirth.

Written from the raw perspective of an autistic creator processing two decades of emotional trauma, this is more than music — it’s catharsis. Each song is a chapter in a narrative arc that starts on a lonely highway (300 KM Stone Cold), spirals through sadness (The Silence Between Us), and explodes into unapologetic fire (Forgiveness For What?, Walking Like a God, Goodbye).

This album doesn’t ask for pity.
It doesn’t beg for understanding.
It stands tall, unshaken, and says:

“You burned me.
I became fire.”

Fusing spoken-word storytelling with metal riffs, glitchy industrial textures, cinematic strings, and brutal honesty, Stone Cold is for anyone who’s ever felt broken, discarded, or underestimated — and came back stronger, colder, and untouchable.

This is pain turned to power.
This is isolation turned to art.
This is Pulse Meld.