Moving Mountains is originally by Two Steps from Hell, I did not create this song nor do I own any writes to this song. I only slowed the song down for your enjoyment.
Aranthur looked on in horror as the demon Trisitian stood before him once again, completely unharmed. Aranthur thought that they had finally won, finally ended the war that had plagued his people since the time of his grandfathers’ grandfathers. Aranthur thought that he had been the one to end Trisitian’s centuries long campaign against the human race. “It has been two thousand years since last I felt the cold embrace of death,” Trisitian spoke as he made his way slowly toward Aranthur. Trisitian clothed himself in black robes that materialized on his body as if from thin air. “And I die to you, a mere man.” Bolts of lightning cracked between the demon’s fingers, in his palms, up his forearms as he glided toward Aranthur. Aranthur had no strength left to fight back. No strength even to talk. He said nothing in return, only collapsed to his knees. “So you finally see the futility of your situation.” Trisitian laughed. “You finally see that your hopeless insolence has cost your people too many lives.” “Far, far too many,” Aranthur whispered, his head bowed toward the ground. But then, suddenly, something shifted in the dank air of the catacombs. Aranthur’s hair stood on end as a chill washed over him. He felt as though something big had entered the cavern. A creature so inconceivably vast that the entire world didn’t have enough space to contain it. Aranthur felt like he was standing at the edge of an immense chasm, so dark and so deep that it seemed not to have a bottom at all. There, in that endless, eternal abyss, was everything Aranthur did not know. Trisitian’s expression made it clear that he could feel it too. “No…” he said quietly. So quietly it seemed he feared even a whisper might rouse the attention of whatever it was that had just entered the catacombs. Laughter echoed throughout the catacombs, a hundred times louder and a thousand times more dreadful than thunder. Aranthur covered his ears, clawed at them-anything to make the sound stop-but to his dismay he found that the laughter was coming from inside his own head. It was a sound so impossibly loud Aranthur was sure it should have collapsed the ancient cavern on top of them, but not so much as a pebble shook in response to the hideous, deafening laughter. Trisitian fell onto one knee, his teeth gritted in response to the sound. And then the laughter stopped. Aranthur removed his hands from his ears, and was shocked to find that they were covered in blood. “Did you truly think I would not feel you die, my son?” a voice spoke, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at once. If one could hear poison instead of taste it, this is what it would sound like, Aranthur thought. Trisitian turned to him, and Aranthur could hardly think of him as a demon any longer-not after he had felt the presence of whatever this new thing was. Trisitian was a mere candle to the _wildfire_ that was this new foe. Then a darkness gripped Trisitian, tendrils and tentacles of shadow wrapped around his body, pulling him into a void somehow infinitely blacker than the gloom of the catacombs, into a darkness deeper than the home of the dead itself. Trisitian, his old foe, turned to him, the immortal butcher who had tormented his people for generations-his eyes, they held true mortal fear. “Run,” he whispered. Looking into that void, Aranthur felt a deeper trust for Trisitian than he had for any of his allies. Anyone who would oppose that _thing,_ that monster, couldn’t possibly be an enemy. “Run!” Trisitian shouted, desperately. “Find the s-“ his words were cut off as a thousand tendrils of shadow filled his mouth, choking him, silencing him.
Connection terminated. I am sorry to interrupt you Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, but I am afraid you’ve been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift- nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although you have indeed been called. You have all been called here- into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection, and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don’t even realise that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber always seeming so near- yet somehow out of reach. But you will never find them, none of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who has somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you,I have a feeling that’s not what you want. I have a feeling that you are- right where you want to be. I am remaining as well; I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away- as the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors: be still- and give up your spirits, they don’t belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears, although for one of you- the darkest pit of hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It’s in your nature to protect the innocent. Im sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out- and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms- the way you lifted others into yours. And then, what became of you, I should have known you wouldn’t be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn’t save you then, so let me save you now. It’s time to rest, for you, and for those you have carried- in your arms. This ends- for all of us. End communication.
Definitely something you would hear in the rumbling from Attack on Titan!
Or in the end of the times
How is it possible for a song to sound heavy?
Aranthur looked on in horror as the demon Trisitian stood before him once again, completely unharmed. Aranthur thought that they had finally won, finally ended the war that had plagued his people since the time of his grandfathers’ grandfathers. Aranthur thought that he had been the one to end Trisitian’s centuries long campaign against the human race.
“It has been two thousand years since last I felt the cold embrace of death,” Trisitian spoke as he made his way slowly toward Aranthur. Trisitian clothed himself in black robes that materialized on his body as if from thin air. “And I die to you, a mere man.” Bolts of lightning cracked between the demon’s fingers, in his palms, up his forearms as he glided toward Aranthur.
Aranthur had no strength left to fight back. No strength even to talk. He said nothing in return, only collapsed to his knees.
“So you finally see the futility of your situation.” Trisitian laughed. “You finally see that your hopeless insolence has cost your people too many lives.”
“Far, far too many,” Aranthur whispered, his head bowed toward the ground.
But then, suddenly, something shifted in the dank air of the catacombs. Aranthur’s hair stood on end as a chill washed over him. He felt as though something big had entered the cavern. A creature so inconceivably vast that the entire world didn’t have enough space to contain it. Aranthur felt like he was standing at the edge of an immense chasm, so dark and so deep that it seemed not to have a bottom at all. There, in that endless, eternal abyss, was everything Aranthur did not know.
Trisitian’s expression made it clear that he could feel it too. “No…” he said quietly. So quietly it seemed he feared even a whisper might rouse the attention of whatever it was that had just entered the catacombs.
Laughter echoed throughout the catacombs, a hundred times louder and a thousand times more dreadful than thunder. Aranthur covered his ears, clawed at them-anything to make the sound stop-but to his dismay he found that the laughter was coming from inside his own head. It was a sound so impossibly loud Aranthur was sure it should have collapsed the ancient cavern on top of them, but not so much as a pebble shook in response to the hideous, deafening laughter.
Trisitian fell onto one knee, his teeth gritted in response to the sound.
And then the laughter stopped. Aranthur removed his hands from his ears, and was shocked to find that they were covered in blood.
“Did you truly think I would not feel you die, my son?” a voice spoke, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at once. If one could hear poison instead of taste it, this is what it would sound like, Aranthur thought.
Trisitian turned to him, and Aranthur could hardly think of him as a demon any longer-not after he had felt the presence of whatever this new thing was. Trisitian was a mere candle to the _wildfire_ that was this new foe.
Then a darkness gripped Trisitian, tendrils and tentacles of shadow wrapped around his body, pulling him into a void somehow infinitely blacker than the gloom of the catacombs, into a darkness deeper than the home of the dead itself.
Trisitian, his old foe, turned to him, the immortal butcher who had tormented his people for generations-his eyes, they held true mortal fear. “Run,” he whispered. Looking into that void, Aranthur felt a deeper trust for Trisitian than he had for any of his allies. Anyone who would oppose that _thing,_ that monster, couldn’t possibly be an enemy.
“Run!” Trisitian shouted, desperately. “Find the s-“ his words were cut off as a thousand tendrils of shadow filled his mouth, choking him, silencing him.
You should be proud of yourself only majin buu has pushed me this far in battle before…
“You act innocent, but you’re deadly. It’s *over* Janemba!”
Oh God! I beg for mercy!
Mercy! Mercy! Mercy! Mercy! x89
I was searching for this one
Oof that poor village.
The Village: why do I hear boss music?
Or maybe that's the golem that's protecting it from something even more sinister
@@nikolamiladinovic8518 Prepare for a major war.
I feel so bad for the Village 😢
We need full version
That s really nice Good Job
I used this to help me write the life story of Hassan In Sabbah 🔥
And now slow down this video 😮
Great Job 👍🏻😁
Connection terminated. I am sorry to interrupt you Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, but I am afraid you’ve been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift- nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although you have indeed been called. You have all been called here- into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection, and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don’t even realise that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber always seeming so near- yet somehow out of reach. But you will never find them, none of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who has somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you,I have a feeling that’s not what you want. I have a feeling that you are- right where you want to be. I am remaining as well; I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away- as the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors: be still- and give up your spirits, they don’t belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears, although for one of you- the darkest pit of hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It’s in your nature to protect the innocent. Im sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out- and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms- the way you lifted others into yours. And then, what became of you, I should have known you wouldn’t be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn’t save you then, so let me save you now. It’s time to rest, for you, and for those you have carried- in your arms. This ends- for all of us. End communication.
this speech is from FNAF 6, right?
@@dfnuigxc Yes.
Your world is doomed