Abominable Intelligence - Iron Will | Warhammer 40k music |

This one, my dear listener is a dark one...
Story of those betrayed by their brothers and their own hubris.
Yes... Once proud legion of the Iron Hands, couldn't even accept the death of their Primarch.
While his soul traversed the void, they hid their heads in the sands on Medusa, and just could not accept the truth.
Indeed you could not blame them for all those robotic augmentations when their bodies were so worthy of pity...

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Fanmade project made by two musicians, powered by an AI

Lyrics: Dawid Dylewski
Music: Suno

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Lyrics:
In the hollow depths of space, where the evil forces fight
Our strength and iron will, are slowly teaching us our might,
For our bravery will not break, and our forces never run,
And to battle we are heading, chaos gods will be undone

Of the Iron are our veins, and we yearn for evils bane,
For millenia have we perished, in the eyes of those to blame,
With distane for flesh we march, our hearts are cold and stern
And we pray for our Primarchs, quick and holy return!

Our brothers let us down, in the face of enemy,
But our courage is eternal, we move forward steadily,
We are hammer that had shattered, countless foes in Emperor's quest,
And our wrath and our hatred, we should never lay to rest!

Of the Iron are our veins, and we yearn for evils bane,
For millenia have we perished, in the eyes of those to blame,
With distane for flesh we march, our hearts are cold and stern
And we pray for our Primarchs, quick and holy return!

On the cursed planet of Isstvan, our destiny was sealed,
We were forced to start our vigil, by those that in fear had yield,
Though our mighty great gene-sire, had abandon us that day,
We shall now restore our power, so return to us he may!

Of the Iron are our veins, and we yearn for evils bane,
For millenia have we perished, in the eyes of those to blame,
With distane for flesh we march, our hearts are cold and stern
And we pray for our Primarchs, quick and holy return!

And so now we strive the strenght, and the certainty of steel,
Our mortal human coil, is the reason that we're ill.
and with machines mighty power, our weakness shall be cursed,
So no longer we'll bear torment, and we can do our worst!

Of the Iron are our veins, and we yearn for evils bane,
For millenia have we perished, in the eyes of those to blame,
With distane for flesh we march, our hearts are cold and stern
And we pray for our Primarchs, quick and holy return!

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