Machina Mortis

Описание: Made with Suno (4.5)

The song of Arakiel, a Grigori/Watcher who were one of the few to break free from their imprisonment, especially after the events of the prior era. Arakiel had lost significant power such as his "wings" as a result from leaving his, as well as after (the soon to be lich of his age) Narthanax visited his prison. He has since gone into hiding within the regions beneath Herium amongst the undercity regions and ruins of Exael's empire, conspiring new methods of using Necrotic energy.

Arakiel (Earth of God), was a Watcher that taught humanity the "signs of the Earth," but also in his cosmic knowledge and slowly growing interest, he forbiddingly taught the school of Necromancy. His first-born Nephilim son would also become the first Lich on the Earth Heled, ruling a formidable empire among the others of his kind.

Ages after his imprisonment, the dreaded necromancer Narthanax would seek out the prisons, gaining relics and knowledge from the Watchers, whether through discussion, guile, or other means necessary.

Sheol mentioned here is referenced to one of the "Underdarks" of the setting, in which it is an underground "afterlife" assumedly connected to the Watchers, and is theorized to contain sleeping "or still walking" souls of their followers, with a bigger promise/plan in motion. A place now lost and forgotten. It is overseen by a disturbing, but seemingly neutral angel called Dumah (Silence), or what those of some creeds call Shalakel (Silence of God).

Verse I — The Fall of the Watcher

I once was flame among the spheres,
A sentinel born of heaven’s gears.
But the stars grew dim, the silence deep,
And I found truth within the sleep.
The signs of earth — they whispered clear,
“Raise the dust, and God shall hear.”
Yet Heaven turned its gaze away,
When I taught men how to make decay.

Chorus

Rise, O bones of rust and bone,
Sing in circuits, flesh of stone.
My wings were torn, yet still I stand,
To shape creation by my hand.
Through death I build, through rot I reign,
The song of flesh, the hymn of pain.
No heaven calls, no soul forgives —
In death’s design, the angel lives.

Verse II — The Empire Below

My sons became the kings of ash,
Their hearts encased in glass and lash.
The first of liches, crowned in grief,
Bound his soul to my belief.
The phylactery, a fragment kept,
Through ages’ dust, through tombs unwept.
Its echo found in Narthanax,
A ghost of what the world once lacks.

Bridge

"The Awakening in Herium..."

Now in Herium’s rusted veins,
I dream through wires, through data chains.
Steel and marrow, code and clay,
I blend the dead in bright decay.
The test tubes hum, the corpses dream,
The circuits pulse, the fluids gleam.
Behold my art — synthetic sin,
Where God and rot are fused within.

Chorus

Rise, O choir of the unmade host,
The flesh-machines, the wired ghosts.
Through grave and gear, I write the code,
Where light and death become one road.
Through death I build, through rot I reign,
The angel sings through bone and chain.
Let Heaven tremble, let mortals cower —
Arakiel lives — in death, in power.

Verse III — The New Genesis

They come to hunt, they come to weep,
They do not know what I now keep.
Sheol stirs beneath the core,
The dead remember — they ask for more.
And I, their master, god of spire,
Fan the black and call it fire.
No throne above, no judgment near,
Only creation — pure and clear.

Final Chorus

Rise, O choir of the unmade host,
The flesh-machines, the wired ghosts.
Through grave and gear, I write the code,
Where light and death become one road.
Through death I build, through rot I reign,
The angel sings through bone and chain.
Let Heaven tremble, let mortals cower —
Arakiel lives — in death, in power.