It gets to a point where it even starts to get a little breakbeat-ish. A hollow continuous bassline marks the end of the highway. Man can meet his own decision. Back in the jungle, with a helicopter in the background, some running horses, something splashing in water. This is followed by a electrical sound, the discharging noise swinging back and forth from left to right.
Winds rush around, or maybe it's the sound of jets.
Rumbling noises are slowly turning into what appears to be end-part of Antique Toy. I'm the prophet of things to come. And here we enter A State Of Permanent Abyss. So, the rumours are true, you really do exist. Falling down into the tranquility of deformed strings, lateron joined by a bassdrum.