Born on the fertile slopes of Mount Centyrz, sourced from the remnant ashes of a devastating epidemic that wiped out the region centuries ago, the spirit of DJ Grzyb sprouts from the soil like a white-capped monk clad in fungal vestments. Untethered from human language, waiting to be harvested by virtuous hands; only then delivering its immortal knowledge. Legend tells that it was once carried away by supernatural forces seeking to recall the fairy tales of its ancestors, the protective spirits of the Purple Mountains, who live alone among the misty peaks. The mirrors of these spirits exhale the violet breath of the Purple Mountains, a gift from the sacred flower, Gentiana asclepiadea. Once used by living creatures to sharpen appetite, aid digestion and awaken the nervous system. These children of the mountains bloom in early spring in the shape of a giant 'trombita' - the signature instrument of the forest-dwelling mastermind.

High atop these peaks, near Turbacz, lies the Stone of the Devil, carried from Rome by Beelzebub themselves. Local legends tell that the greed of local thugs, the Zbojniks, has accumulated a decent amount of gold there. Its surface bears uncanny inscriptions no mortal has ever deciphered. Those who claim to read them are said to awaken hidden doors. Though none have succeeded… until destiny intervened. In the heart of the night, DJ Grzyb lifts his flute and delivers a lullaby dedicated to the spirit of Roman Fermi, better known as Metys, a free-spirited soul born in Poznań and devoted to the mountains and their children. Broadcasting from his wooden refuge called Metysówka, he became a symbol of liberation, a sanctuary for those seeking to escape the weight of reality. As the melody rises, it runs toward the dark sky and plays for Metys, guiding him home across the Milky Way. The sound of the flute pierces the darkness, illuminating the night and revealing a hidden cartography beneath the swirling clouds.

Under the Big Red Moon, haunted by the blood-stained stones of its ancestors, DJ Grzyb readies itself to enter the palace of ego-death, ruled from the Eye Room, meditating on inner traumas carried through generations. First come the Three Sisters of Death, night marauders weaving shadows across the meadows. Guided by stepper invocations of Faith, Hope, and Charity, the spirit dances into darkness, surrendering to a reckless trance that shreds its earthly costume to pieces. Caught in a drifting spiral of lost existence and trapped in repeating patterns, DJ Grzyb begins to mutate into the spirit of the werewolf: half-human, half-beast - choking by the chugging rhythms of cosmopolitan life. The protagonist melts into a liquid state where repression fractures, answering the call of the wilderness and plunging into a pandemonium of zero-gravity acrobatics and full-throated screams.

Through the cracks of asphalt dreams, it slips into a meditation on chaos, where the mushroom of the hour gazes into the oracle's mirror. Revealing its morphing identity, from newborn to old-timer and slowly dissolving into the soil. Embracing the lost feeling of returning to the womb... Seized in a labyrinth of hyper-connected technology and cut off from the pulse of the living world, DJ Grzyb mocks the modern age, where humanity wields tools it cannot fully comprehend. As proofs are built for systems beyond any singular mind and knowledge finds its completion only in the collective. Faith rests in the high-spirited hands of the storm god Planetnik and his dubbed-out apostle, Andrew Weatherall, where light clashes with shadow. After the tempest, forces of the righteous descend once more, carrying their favor to the earth and returning the wandering spirit to the moonlit slopes of Ochotnica Dolna. Guided by Planetnik, the protagonist embraces its destiny, slipping into the Ear Room chapel with its mutant sound system, ready to honor an accomplished rite of passage in full celebration.

Fire in hand, the village ignites in a feast of sparks and shadows, flames dancing as the spirits dance alongside them. All the extraordinary members of the Rational Mushroom-Gathering Club assemble for a final banquet. A last voyage where thought melts into flesh and flesh dissolves back into thought.