Quantum Lapse: A Mind-Bending Visual Story w/ Trippy Cinematics
Please share & subscribe, appreciate you! https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
Follow on SoundCloud for more tracks : https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
Stacked with glimmering synth scaffolds and razor-sharp tech propulsion—building it (and the visuals) was a blast and a learning curve.
Keep in touch with latest releases:
https://www.youtube.com/@grasspatchbum
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://youtu.be/anvHp2Hxwpo
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum
the Story
Page 1 — Rune-Plateau Awakening
Grains of black glass crunched beneath Solenne’s boots as sunrise crawled over the Rune-Plateau. The plain looked infinite, a frozen sea of obsidian broken only by drifting mist etched with ever-morphing sigils. When a breeze cut across the cracked surface, those symbols flared cyan—as though the wind itself were a stylus on cosmic parchment.
Solenne had chased rumours of this place for whole star-cycles: a realm that appears only when longing aligns with the heart-pulse of the galaxy. Tonight, her longing had stitched a doorway between coordinates, and she had stepped through.
The mist parted, revealing a thin spiral staircase extruding out of vacuum, its edges sharpened to impossible points. Null-Stone, legends called it: matter grown from the idea of ascent. At the top hovered a lone mirror, dark as deep water. She inhaled, feeling the plateau tilt, gravity rewriting its vectors until “up” meant “forward.” One step, then another—each footfall sparking teal ripples on the glassy ground—she rose.
Page 2 — Chamber of Soft-Spoken Mirrors
Crossing the final step, she faced a hall rimmed with mirrors. They whispered in overlapping threads, braiding memories that were not yet memories: Solenne striding across nebula petals; Solenne with no reflection; Solenne crowned in circuitry.
Above, a vault of prismatic glass funneled starlight into the room, refracting it into roaming shards. Each shard carried a different timeline. Choose one, the mirrors implied, and the others collapse.
She touched the faintest shard—a sliver tinted indigo—and the hall shattered into a billion splinters that orbited her like a swarm of obedient moons. From the debris, a sigil ignited in mid-air: ⇝—the vector arrow. With that arrow pointing somewhere beyond probability, she stepped forward, and the world re-shortened itself around her.
Page 3 — Worm-Thread Corridor & The Shift
The transition was seamless; one breath she lingered in silence, the next she was inside a corridor woven from argent filaments. The walls pulsed with distant star-chatter—voices of galaxies echoing across aeons. The Vector Arrow on her palm glowed hotter, guiding her toward an unseen fulcrum.
Ahead, six pylons coalesced, forming a hexagonal gate. At its centre, a single star burned black, devouring colour. The Shadowstar.
As Solenne crossed the threshold, the universe shifted half a pitch up, like reality had slipped one key on a cosmic keyboard. The filaments re-threaded themselves into new angles, constellations redrew into glyphs she couldn’t parse, and her heartbeat sync-locked with the alien cadence. She felt lighter, as though mass itself had negotiated new terms with spacetime.
Page 4 — Quasar Garden & Tesseract Bloom
The corridor dissolved into a garden built on the edge of a roaring quasar. Dark-light flora drank radiation jets like nectar: obsidian lilies whose petals broadcast strobing auroras; vines spinning Möbius leaves; pollen motes that hatched pocket universes the moment they touched skin. One such mote kissed Solenne’s wrist and blossomed into a miniature spiral galaxy, orbiting her like a luminous bracelet.
At garden’s heart rose a colossal bloom: twelve petals of translucent geometry, each folding through the fourth dimension—the Tesseract Bloom. It was alive, breathing temporal vapour that smelled of distant monsoons and childhood campfires simultaneously. Solenne reached into its centre; chronology imploded. She lived every future, every past, in a firework flash, then returned to herself holding a single seed.
The seed vibrated with the note of becoming. She let it fall. Where it struck soil, gravitational lines visibly rewrote—vectors intersecting at new solutions. The quasar dimmed, folding its radiation inward like a closing fan, and a portal rippled open.
Page 5 — Eventide Return & Vector Fulfilled
Through the portal she emerged back onto the Rune-Plateau, but not quite as she had left it. The fog was thinner, the sigils steadier. Above, the Shadowstar glowed white instead of black. Her bracelet-galaxy orbited faster, flaring like a celebratory comet.
The plateau spoke without words: Vector completed. Shift accepted. The glyph on her palm cooled to silver, then soldered itself into her skin as a permanent map—the co-ordinates of everywhere and everywhen she had stepped.
Solenne turned, expecting the staircase and hall to tower behind her, but they had folded into memory. Only the mist remained, gently swirling in the shape of an arrow pointing to the horizon. Somewhere beyond lay other plateaus, other arrows, other stars awaiting their own shadow-bright shifts.
She smiled, took a breath scented with quasar afterglow, and began walking—boots crunching glass that sang with each step—toward whatever impossible vector would call her next.
the Gallery
Contact to purchase full quality images
