Northbound Bones & Frozen Roads by Stan the Ghoul | Wasteland Music скачать в хорошем качестве

Northbound Bones & Frozen Roads by Stan the Ghoul | Wasteland Music

“Canada didn’t freeze me, it just aged me like a fine, irradiated whiskey. Saw snow beasts with too many eyes, Mounties with laser muskets, and a town that worshiped a broken Mr. Handy. Courier 9 kept me breathing. Barely.” -- Stan the Ghoul Name’s Stan, and I don’t feel the cold no more, skin like leather, lungs like smoke. Crossed the line where the maps give up, into the Canadian Commonwealths, where even the snow’s armed. Had Courier Nine at my side T-51 hummin’ like a prayer machine, steel boots sayin’ keep moving, and I listened. Northbound, northbound, frost in my veins, Flags torn down but the scars remain. If I didn’t have Nine, I’d be bones in the white, Canada eats the slow every night. First came the Yukon Reach towns built into pipeline ribs, people trading heat like currency, faces wrapped, eyes sharp. They don’t ask names. They ask ammo. Saw Ice-Hounds there wolves with crystal lungs, howls freeze your breath mid-word. Courier Nine dropped one clean thing shattered like a bad memory. Met traders runnin’ sleds with reactor cores, Ghoul kids laughing at aurora wars. If the lights start dancin’, don’t stare too long, they remember faces, and hum along. Then the Prairie Commonwealths, flat land where the wind thinks it’s god. Rad-bison roam in herds of thunder, six eyes, iron horns, they stampede storms into being. Met folks there, farmers with turrets, songs older than the bombs, and scarecrows that move when no one’s looking. Don’t trust snow that breathes, don’t trust trees that lean, saw a whole damn forest walk away clean. Closer to the coast, things got quiet. Too quiet. Frost Ghouls not like me. Frozen mid-scream, still walking, still loyal to uniforms that don’t exist. Courier Nine said nothing. Just kept watch. Steel man watchin’ my blind side, while the past marched frozen and wide. Then came Anchorage. Ruins stacked like bunkers on bunkers, sea ice cracking like gunfire, and things under it White Leviathans, ships wrapped in bone and sonar screams. The war never ended here. It just… waited. Anchorage lights in the ice-blue haze, ghosts still fightin’ pre-war days. If Nine hadn’t walked beside me then, I’d be another echo in frozen men. So here I am, still standin’, north of where hope thins out. Canada didn’t kill me. But it sure tried.