* Atmosphere: Icy, desolate, and heavily reliant on minor keys and dissonance. * Tempo: Alternates between very fast (focused blast beats) and crushing, mid-tempo moments that emphasize the 'cold hand' settling. * Guitars: Raw, thin production, relying heavily on sweeping, melancholic tremolo riffs. * Vocals: Solely high-pitched, echoing shrieks and despairing rasps. Lyrics (Intro - Slow, atmospheric, clean guitar melody overlaid with static/noise) (Sudden eruption into fast blast beats and tremolo picking) Verse 1: (Fast tempo, relentless blast beats) The breath runs short, the fire turns to ash, I feel the coming of the final crash. A phantom frost that settles on the air, A chilling truth too terrible to bear. It moves unseen through every darkened room, The cold precursor of the empty tomb. Chorus: The Hand Descends (Riff widens, becomes more epic and dissonant, maintaining high speed) FROZEN TOUCH! (Sustained Shriek) The shadow lengthens, the final grip takes hold! COLD HAND! More ancient than the stars are old! A spectral vice, inescapable decree, The Chill of the Reaper's Palm upon me! Verse 2: The Blood Runs Ice (Tempo drops slightly, focusing on a heavy, mid-tempo rhythm and despairing chords) The vital pulse now slows its frantic pace, I see the void reflecting in its face. The heat of life—a stolen, fleeting spark, Now swallowed whole by the overwhelming dark. My bones remember winter's first decree, An eternity of absolute apathy. Chorus: The Hand Descends (Tempo speeds up, dissonant riff returns) FROZEN TOUCH! (Sustained Shriek) The shadow lengthens, the final grip takes hold! COLD HAND! More ancient than the stars are old! A spectral vice, inescapable decree, The Chill of the Reaper's Palm upon me! Bridge: Submission to Frost (Fastest section—pure, chaotic blast beats with frantic tremolo) > (Whispered Rasp) I welcome the cessation. > (Shriek) No light, no salvation! > My spirit breaks beneath the weight of ice, > The ultimate, eternal sacrifice! > Outro (Riff slows down, becoming repetitive and minimalistic, drums shift to a slow, funeral-like march. Vocals are sustained, distorted screams that slowly drop in pitch and intensity) ...COLD! COLD! COLD! (The final guitar chord rings out, slowly fading into a wash of static and sustained feedback.)