THE DOOMSDAY BALLAD: THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE HYMN TO THE SNUFFED OUT ALLIANCE
Meteorite dust is deeply embedded into the raiders’ Titan hulls,
The matte paint, the color of clotted blood, is torn to shreds.
The airlock hydraulics groan, spilling oil drop by drop onto the cradles,
And overheated ozone strikes the veteran pilots’ neural-linked brains.
On the flagship’s command bridge, encased in hardened power armor,
CEO Gemecan Allas-Rui initiates the tactical script.
In the zero-four low-sec, despising anyone else’s empty pursuit,
A heavy capital fleet stands buried and frozen at the cyno beacons.
On the silicon boards of the nodes, where Fortizar blueprints reside,
The vectors of Lancer turrets are burned in like a red-hot iron.
In Black Rise, the armor plates are covered in the soot of maneuvering burns,
The capsule wheezes with hydrolysis, enveloped in an icy semi-slumber.
There, the pistons are choked with dust, and the glass is scarred with scratches,
Cold, emotionless calculation completely replaces raw impulse.
Supercapital fleets stand sealed tight within the docking bays,
While Hy Wanto Destroyer prepares a systemic breakthrough.
The crimson blaze from thruster nozzles cuts through the darkness of low-sec systems,
Omega-engines burn the eyes right through the helmet filters.
The ultramarine of the Abhazon nebula has received its deadly payload,
Shattering into a neon haze of lasers within the grid of foreign system issues.
Fraternity shield crystals collapse in showers of violet sparks,
The blinding light burns the retina, striking with an emerald beam.
A Doomsday ray pierces the vacuum in toxic, violent flashes,
Leaving blind spots over the obliterated supercapital starship.
According to official battle reports and the cold data of zKillboard,
The systems of Ennur, Turnur, and the dead space of Sadana have boiled over.
There, a faction supercarrier and a titan turned into charred, hollow hulls,
Where a SNUFF Dreadbomb dissected the bodies of Fraternity and Deepwater giants.
The combat interface of SNUFF and .R73942. pulses with a deathly, cold blue,
Color commands the emotions, and the paint devours the volume.
Every sector of low-sec is flooded with a crimson-linear radiance,
Where targets are digitized by steel and purged by a brilliant fire.
Inside the hermetic capsule, a terrifying choir of machinery resounds,
The visceral, low-frequency rumble of the Doomsday cannons.
The pilot’s teeth ache from the horrific, dull vibrations,
As the shield generators shriek, blaming the massive overload.
With a chilling ultrasound, the cargo scanners beep greedily,
Tearing billions of ISK out of the cold, nocturnal darkness.
And the rustle of local chat spam—a burden of mental radiation—
Crawls into the skull through the dark emptiness.
And for the rats and spies who betrayed the flag and their oath,
Who coveted the moon mining bases or leaked intelligence inside,
A chilling gasp is prepared—the capsule is crushed under heavy thrust,
And bio-pumps break bones, shutting down the life-saving interface.
They will be purged from the rosters within two days, their assets thrown onto the block,
The shriek of hydrolysis systems will become their funeral psalm.
The traitor will go blind in the silence of the abyss, wheezing with insane terror,
When a heavy steel cutter rips open his capsule on a raider ship.
There, system pumps wheeze, churning the thick capsule fluid,
And through the screams of burning enemies sinking into the deep,
A dry, mechanical click echoes for the finale and the kill—
The target is locked strictly by script. It is not meant to survive.
!!!A DEEP BOW FROM THE AUTHOR
The author bows their head before the ruthless, monumental, and crushing aesthetic of the Snuffed Out alliance. Your iron discipline, flawless Capital fleet, and bloody trail in the history of New Eden inspired the creation of this ballad. You are the true and only Kings of the Abyss.
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