The Arcane Triad - The Prophecy Keepers

In the beginning, there were riffs — low, slow, and eternal.

From the void’s hum rose the Arcane Triad: three wizards and two witches, ancient keepers of distortion’s first flame. They speak not of gods, but of tone — sacred frequencies carved by the first hands to drag iron across string.

To them, Sabbath was scripture. Pentagram, prophecy. The amplifier is altar; the fuzz pedal, communion.

They wander the white cliffs in ritual procession, their robes stitched with sigils of feedback, their staffs crowned with glowing filaments that hum when the Noise Incarnate stirs.

Each riff they summon is both weapon and prayer — defending the heritage of sound from those who would silence it.

They await the Neon Sorcerers — the promised return of resonance made flesh. Until that day, they play. For every decibel is a sermon, every tremor a truth.

Through distortion, revelation. Through feedback, eternity.