Uploaded November 2025 | Updated September 2026, 3 weeks ago
Russian Lyrics by: @MonCaos
English Lyrics by: Zhuravliov
Music and Vocals by: SUNO.ai
Lyrics:
[Context - Spoken]
In the wake of the council, the skies split with fire,
As Andreotti flew swift to the stars.
The Marshal had called him with grave, keen desire—
A meeting of minds that still carried old scars.
[Marshal]
My friend, you are hiding—there's something you're veiling.
What game are you playing? What truth do you flee?
The silence you keep is a shadow prevailing,
And silence like that brings no good, can't you see?
I know that your dreams are invaded by sorrow,
By specters of death in the depths of the night.
The line that divides noble deed from tomorrow,
From sin—is as thin as a strand of moonlight.
[Professor]
I know not, dear Marshal, what stirs your suspicion,
Nor what your sharp mind has presumed in its scheme.
But let us abandon this tearful contrition—
No room for our feelings where intellect gleams.
When thought intertwines with both time and dimension,
And shows us the devil’s insidious plan,
I must bear this burden, despite apprehension—
For freedom, I lie, and deceive when I can.
I sense that you know what the Citadel's hiding—
The power that waits like a beast in the mist.
And tremble you should, for the force it's providing
Knows no moral bounds when its circuits persist.
[Marshal]
It’s strange, dear Professor, that you would consider
That evil can ever be cured with more sin.
Your conscience—imprisoned, grows colder and thinner,
Enslaved by the logic you forged deep within.
Have you so forgotten the truths of our making?
The values the Alliance once held as its soul?
The balance of duty and love in its waking—
Now lost to the hunger for cold-minded goals?
[Professor]
I see only nerves made of wire and metal.
No empathy left in your soldierly creed.
A grip like the jaws of a steel-biting kettle,
And fleets of the foe that forever proceed.
Your claims of morality—preach them to circuits,
To silent machines that have never known grace!
They’ve purged countless systems, and offered no verdicts—
Just ashes and silence remain in their place.
I see, in the fog, realms of infinite order,
Where scholars in shadow control every fate.
And space itself weeps at the edge of their border—
When secrets emerge far too deadly, too late.
[Marshal]
I see the same threat, but your cure is a terror.
A soul sold to devils to keep demons out.
Can’t you admit there is something in error?
This path that you walk—is it paved with your doubt?
You battle the dragon, yet become what you fight.
Each tyrant you slay births a tyrant again.
Another will rise in a blood-soaked delight,
Enthroned in the ruins, and cloaked in our pain.
[Professor]
Perhaps, as you said, I become what I battle—
A monster—but forged for a purpose at hand.
Not words, but in steel, I will rattle the shackles—
And save us from threats that you can't understand.
We could bow our heads to a ruthless oppressor,
Or stand and defy him with fire and flame.
And if such a road makes the truth any lesser—
Then that is the price of not living in shame.
[Marshal]
You speak in extremes with a mind ever turning—
From one end to another you swing like a blade.
But deeper and darker your thoughts keep on churning,
As reason slips further, and clarity fades.
Yet even in war, there is right, there is wrong—
The righteous can fight without losing their soul.
And honor survives where the brave still belong,
Though steel may melt in the furnace of war.
[Professor]
I see no more middle, no truth in the center.
The end crowns the one who dares see it through.
The people sing songs of the bold who would enter
The fire—not sages who ponder what's true.
I'll follow my heart through the chaos and thunder,
And crush what would threaten the hope that remains—
For talk about tears of the child torn asunder
Is made by the ones who have never known pain.
And so, as I leave you, remember this token:
The vow that we made in the first days of flame:
While I still draw breath, let no fear be awoken—
You must not fear war in the Empire’s name.
Russian Lyrics by: @MonCaos
English Lyrics by: Zhuravliov
Music and Vocals by: SUNO.ai
Lyrics:
[Context - Spoken]
In the wake of the council, the skies split with fire,
As Andreotti flew swift to the stars.
The Marshal had called him with grave, keen desire—
A meeting of minds that still carried old scars.
[Marshal]
My friend, you are hiding—there's something you're veiling.
What game are you playing? What truth do you flee?
The silence you keep is a shadow prevailing,
And silence like that brings no good, can't you see?
I know that your dreams are invaded by sorrow,
By specters of death in the depths of the night.
The line that divides noble deed from tomorrow,
From sin—is as thin as a strand of moonlight.
[Professor]
I know not, dear Marshal, what stirs your suspicion,
Nor what your sharp mind has presumed in its scheme.
But let us abandon this tearful contrition—
No room for our feelings where intellect gleams.
When thought intertwines with both time and dimension,
And shows us the devil’s insidious plan,
I must bear this burden, despite apprehension—
For freedom, I lie, and deceive when I can.
I sense that you know what the Citadel's hiding—
The power that waits like a beast in the mist.
And tremble you should, for the force it's providing
Knows no moral bounds when its circuits persist.
[Marshal]
It’s strange, dear Professor, that you would consider
That evil can ever be cured with more sin.
Your conscience—imprisoned, grows colder and thinner,
Enslaved by the logic you forged deep within.
Have you so forgotten the truths of our making?
The values the Alliance once held as its soul?
The balance of duty and love in its waking—
Now lost to the hunger for cold-minded goals?
[Professor]
I see only nerves made of wire and metal.
No empathy left in your soldierly creed.
A grip like the jaws of a steel-biting kettle,
And fleets of the foe that forever proceed.
Your claims of morality—preach them to circuits,
To silent machines that have never known grace!
They’ve purged countless systems, and offered no verdicts—
Just ashes and silence remain in their place.
I see, in the fog, realms of infinite order,
Where scholars in shadow control every fate.
And space itself weeps at the edge of their border—
When secrets emerge far too deadly, too late.
[Marshal]
I see the same threat, but your cure is a terror.
A soul sold to devils to keep demons out.
Can’t you admit there is something in error?
This path that you walk—is it paved with your doubt?
You battle the dragon, yet become what you fight.
Each tyrant you slay births a tyrant again.
Another will rise in a blood-soaked delight,
Enthroned in the ruins, and cloaked in our pain.
[Professor]
Perhaps, as you said, I become what I battle—
A monster—but forged for a purpose at hand.
Not words, but in steel, I will rattle the shackles—
And save us from threats that you can't understand.
We could bow our heads to a ruthless oppressor,
Or stand and defy him with fire and flame.
And if such a road makes the truth any lesser—
Then that is the price of not living in shame.
[Marshal]
You speak in extremes with a mind ever turning—
From one end to another you swing like a blade.
But deeper and darker your thoughts keep on churning,
As reason slips further, and clarity fades.
Yet even in war, there is right, there is wrong—
The righteous can fight without losing their soul.
And honor survives where the brave still belong,
Though steel may melt in the furnace of war.
[Professor]
I see no more middle, no truth in the center.
The end crowns the one who dares see it through.
The people sing songs of the bold who would enter
The fire—not sages who ponder what's true.
I'll follow my heart through the chaos and thunder,
And crush what would threaten the hope that remains—
For talk about tears of the child torn asunder
Is made by the ones who have never known pain.
And so, as I leave you, remember this token:
The vow that we made in the first days of flame:
While I still draw breath, let no fear be awoken—
You must not fear war in the Empire’s name.
