“By a hidden waterfall, SAGEGREEN pieces together beats and quiet vinyl.”

There’s a place the maps don’t name, Asephari, a city of silence where people have no past, no words, and no written history. Only memory passed through sound. That’s where SAGEGREEN is from. He doesn’t speak much. Instead, he builds stories with hiss, crackle, and carefully stitched loops, recorded fragments from lives that might’ve never happened.

In Asephari, every hundred years, the city holds a secret succession trial. Not of bloodlines, but of resonance. The next ruler is chosen not by vote, but by who can make the deepest memory stir in others through sound.

SAGEGREEN was a rightful contender, maybe even the favorite, but he disappeared. Escaped. His music was banned from the city’s archives, and his name, never written, began to fade from the collective.

Now in exile, SAGEGREEN leaks forgotten memories into the world through beat tapes, each a carefully encrypted document of things once felt.

Albums like “SICK Beat Tape” and “TOMRRW Beat Tape” aren’t just music. They’re ritual objects in a larger, hidden game.

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🎚 The Match on the 13th Record Floor

Before he left Asephari, there was one fight no one forgot, though no one speaks of it now.

The 13th Record Floor was a place where memory artists fought not with fists, but with layered loops and sonic traps. There, SAGEGREEN faced a rival named A.Retouch, a master of sonic mimicry who could hijack any beat, re-edit it, and throw it back deadlier.

A.Retouch tried to dismantle SAGEGREEN’s structure, cutting, splicing, mocking, but he missed the deeper weave.

SAGEGREEN had built the entire track from echoes of Retouch’s childhood pain, recorded, disguised, and gently replayed. Every sample was a memory Retouch thought he’d erased. By re-editing them, he re-opened his own scars.

SAGEGREEN then played a fragment, an unlocked piece of forbidden memory known as Pattern Type-∞. It erased A.Retouch from every record in Asephari, past and present.

But the move came at a cost: SAGEGREEN lost all hearing for a year. In that silence, he created his most emotionally raw material to date, the SICK Beat Tape.

To this day, no one knows if Type-∞ still lingers in the stream. Maybe it waits to echo in the wrong ear, again.