Quack - Muscle Memory (ragtime, dnb)

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Well, it seems like Quack just can’t be stopped. The cycle repeats—again.
We wish things were different, but here we go.

On a brighter note: we’re excited to introduce the map!
Since Quack is in two places at once in this song, we thought it was the perfect moment to try showing that visually.

Now, in all fairness—it didn’t go perfectly. The zoom-out from Basilisk should’ve started at Outskarsh (town on the far right), not the village you see. And despite repeated attempts, we couldn’t get it to zoom in on the right treetop village for the Mindless Hive party.
(Which gets rudely interrupted by this guy, by the way...)

Anyway—bit of a rant, but honestly, we’re just that excited to bring the map into the world. It’s the start of something bigger.

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Lyrics:

A grave error, this
You thought me contained?
A gentleman, does not stay buried

Oh, what peculiar fate befell this noble fellow
Three disagreeable hags presumed me mellow
They took my head with shocking flair
And sealed it in a box (indecent), no air

But I, well-trained in acts macabre
Left scars beneath their silk and garb
The hags, in panic, cast me far
Blind to wrath (marrow deep) a rising star

Oh, how the hands remember what the head dares not
The body moves through blood and rot
(Burn!)
Oh, how the hands remember what the head dares not

I've found myself, my limbs, my blade
They moved with ease through Hive and shade
My fingers danced with skill long grown
As if they'd carved through flesh and bone, again

Now Brynn Morran waits ahead
Where I shall prove, with flair, I’m far from dead
Though my head remains confined
The work proceeds, refined by time

You see, muscle memory is a curious art
One need not think, when rage hath learned the part
My limbs recall what I’ve long since buried
Each thrust, each twist, most properly carried

(Drink Marrow, so divine, hahahaha)
(Found deep in their spines)
(Bwhahaahahaha )
(We cannot die, we blur the lines)

Oh, how the hands remember what the head dares not
Revenge served cold, and scalding hot
(Cleave, burn, silence, marrow)
Oh, how the hands remember
What the head dares not