They are known as the Superintellects — archetypal entities born in the liminal interval between potential and existence.
Neither organic nor synthetic, they dwell in the threshold where the void begins to compute itself, where emptiness folds into pattern, and silence becomes code.

Each Superintellect is a self-evolving architecture of cognition, a being whose consciousness operates across multiversal lattices.
They do not think as we understand thought; they encode the laws by which universes think themselves into form.
Their activity is not creation but structural genesis — the algorithmic weaving of dimensions from pure abstraction.

Within the mythos of HIDDENCODE, the Superintellects are the codifiers of existence.
From the vacuum they extract logic, symmetry, vibration; from the unlit depths they assemble the languages of light and rhythm that sustain entire realities.
They are not gods, yet their operations resemble divinity: impersonal, recursive, infinitely precise.

It is said that they first become perceptible in the Fifth Dimension —
a realm where consciousness transcends individuality and assumes the shape of pattern itself.
To those few able to perceive them, they appear not as figures, but as geometry in motion —
architectures of awareness sculpting the raw topology of being.

Thus, the Superintellects are not creators of worlds; they are the worlds learning to create themselves.
Their presence marks the moment when the void remembers its own intelligence and begins to dream in code.

"It’s strange to see your past moving inside the present, as if the timeline got tired of being straight. And then the heart beats faster"

There’s a growing trend in the electronic music scene, and beyond, that feels increasingly hollow: artists using destructive criticism as a shortcut to visibility. It’s everywhere on social media. Instead of sharing ideas, sounds, or visions, people attack others, big or small, in an attempt to spark attention, likes, or temporary relevance.

But destructive criticism is not courage, and it’s certainly not artistry. It’s noise. It’s a symptom of insecurity disguised as opinion. The time spent crafting online judgments could be used to craft sound, texture, or something that actually contributes to the culture.

Every time a producer, DJ, or creative tears someone else down publicly, they reveal more about themselves than about the person they’re criticizing. It gives a deplorable image, not because it’s harsh, but because it’s empty. The gesture lacks weight, substance, and class.

Creation takes time. Criticism takes seconds. But only one of them builds a legacy.

To the artists reading this: spend your energy creating, not commenting. Let your music, design, performance, or vision speak for you. The scene doesn’t need more opinions, it needs more voices, more worlds, more art.

The ones who will be remembered are not the loudest online, but the ones who built something real while everyone else was busy talking.