[ WH 40K ] The Last Wall Protocol - II - Imperial Fists ( SUNO.AI ) скачать в хорошем качестве

[ WH 40K ] The Last Wall Protocol - II - Imperial Fists ( SUNO.AI )

✊ “The Last Wall Protocol” is a thunderous anthem of Dorn’s scattered sons rising as one. Crimson Fists, Black Templars, Imperial Fists and every successor—reborn into a single unbreakable bulwark. One oath. One Legion. The last line of mankind. ✊ 🎧 Subscribe for more Warhammer-inspired music, lore-driven compositions, and epic soundscapes from the 41st Millennium. [Intro] When the final bastion falters and the cradle of mankind calls for its last defenders.. That which was once divided and scattered across the depths of the galaxy shall become humanity’s hope. “Last Wall Protocol—initiated.” [Verse I] Crimson Fists—born in blood, defenders of Rynn, unyielding in ruin. Black Templars—zeal incarnate, eternal crusaders, wrath worth pursuing. Imperial Fists—sons of Terra, architects of defiance, the golden shield. Iron Knights—stoic and silent, forged in steel and duty fulfilled. Excoriators—scarred yet still penitent, their honor forged in hate. Hammers of Dorn—thunderous and proud, striking with legacy’s weight. Sons of the Phoenix—flame-born warriors, who burn and still pursue. Castellans of the Imperium—guardians of the realm, steadfast and true. [Chorus] From Segmentum Solar to the stars of Ultima, we march for mankind’s dream. Each bolter shell a prayer, each blade a promise kept — the final oath fulfilled. When the Golden Throne itself trembles and the stars scream that the hour is nigh, We are the sons of Dorn. We are the Legion Reborn. We are the last line. Each divided Chapter, forged and tested in fire, rises from crusade and fight. No longer scattered embers in the dark — the Last Wall rises, one banner at a time. [Verse II] Crimson Fists—who bled and burned, yet rose from ashes to fight again. Black Templars—whose fury is faith, and whose crusade will never end. Imperial Fists—whose hands built Terra’s hope and now defend its heart. Iron Knights—whose silence speaks louder than a thousand war cries. Excoriators—whose pain is penance, and whose scars are sacred mark. Hammers of Dorn—whose strikes resound with the wrath of the Primark. Sons of the Phoenix—whose fire cleanses and whose valor redeems. Castellans of the Imperium—whose shield holds through mankind’s darkest dreams. [Chorus] From Segmentum Solar to the stars of Ultima, we march for mankind’s dream. Each bolter shell a prayer, each blade a promise kept — the final oath fulfilled. When the Golden Throne itself trembles and the stars scream that the hour is nigh, We are the sons of Dorn. We are the Legion Reborn. We are the last line. Each divided Chapter, forged and tested in fire, rises from crusade and fight. No longer scattered embers in the dark — the Last Wall rises, one banner at a time. [Verse III] Crimson Fists—who rise again, fists clenched in eternal defiance. Black Templars—who burn with holy fire, sworn to the Emperor’s guidance. Imperial Fists—who built the Imperium and now bleed to preserve its banner. Iron Knights—who endure without praise, guardians of silent honor. Excoriators—who suffer so others may stand, martyrs of the wall. Hammers of Dorn—who strike with legacy, answering duty’s call. Sons of the Phoenix—who blaze with purity, dying so others may live. Castellans of the Imperium—who hold the line, no mercy left to give. [Final Chorus] From Segmentum Solar to the stars of Ultima, we march for mankind’s dream. Each bolter shell a prayer, each blade a promise kept — the final oath fulfilled. When the Golden Throne itself trembles and the stars scream that the hour is nigh, We are the sons of Dorn. We are the Legion Reborn. We are the last line. Each divided Chapter, forged and tested in fire, rises from crusade and fight. No longer scattered embers in the dark — the Last Wall rises, one banner at a time. Last Wall Protocol — as Chapters together we rise, as one Legion reborn. Last Wall Protocol — our unity is the fortress, our blade forever sworn. [Outro We rise—Our names etched in fire, our oaths carved into the bones of stars. The sons of Dorn do not retreat. We become the bulwark. And when the light fades, when all else breaks—our oath remains. Each Chapter a flame rekindled, each warrior a stone in the wall. Bound by blood and the legacy of Dorn’s name. Last Wall Protocol—complete. The Legion stands eternal.