The horizon catches fire. We cross the point of no certainty, while nature moves with a force of its own. We cover ourselves in silver skin, only to remember that we were never in control. When the flames are gone, the heat still lingers.
| pos | artists | title |
|---|---|---|
| A1 | Chlär | Force Majeure |
| A2 | Chlär | Burning Sky |
| A3 | Chlär | Point Zero |
| B1 | Chlär | Silver Skin |
| B2 | Chlär | Residual Heat |