[Intro] (Instrumental Solo) [Verse 1] Beneath the roots of Undermountain’s keep, Where dust and bone their silent vigil keep, Five shadows crossed the threshold of the deep, Far from the sun, where ancient secrets sleep. Grog led the vanguard, steel against the stone, Arius raised his hammer, heavy-grown, While Beroth traced the runes in undertone, And Zelprime watched, unseen, unknown. [Verse 2] Wizkim drifted like a ghost in gray, Silent as the breath before the day, When from the ruin’s hollowed throat of clay, A titan stepped to block their narrow way. Iron limbs with rusted rivets bound, Bronze and steel by centuries worn down, A guardian of lost and hallowed ground, With fear etched deep in every scarred renown. [Pre-Chorus] It raised its hands in grand, theatrical display, Fingers splayed to catch the ether’s sway, An archmage’s pose, a mimicry of play, To call the inferno forth and burn the day. A glowing gesture, sharp and precise, An invisible sphere cast once, twice... The construct waited, proud in its device, But silence was the only sacrifice. [Chorus] "FIREBALL!" the metal giant cried, But no red bloom opened wide. No thunder cracked, no heat inside, Just empty air where magic died. Again it cast with earnest pride, A spell with nowhere left to hide. The heroes watched, confused, allied, As power vanished, nullified. [Verse 3] Beroth bit his lip to hold the laugh, At the perfect form, the tragic graph, Every motion precise, every line half, Of a wizard’s truth, a broken staff. Grog lowered low his blade of steel, Arius blinked, unable to feel, The threat he thought was real, surreal, As confusion made the tension reel. Even Zelprime’s focus frayed and bent, By the absurdity the construct sent, Wizkim hid, his mirth barely spent, Watching the giant’s strange intent. [Pre-Chorus] Another "fireball" launched at the floor, With dramatic flair and martial roar, Still no flame behind the door, Just awkward silence, nothing more. [Bridge] Long ago, the master fell, Lost within the dungeon’s hell, Yet the construct kept the spell, Trapped in time’s unbreaking cell. It watched a wizard once destroy, Hurling fire, fierce and coy, Now repeats without the joy, Or the spark, or the decoy. Certain power lingers still, In the memory, in the will, Though the air is cold and chill, And the magic lacks the kill. [Chorus] "FIREBALL!" the guardian declared, Casting last spells, unprepared. No burning death, no lightning bared, Only echoes, thinly shared. The five turned back, leaving it there, Rehearsing art in empty air, A student stripped of teacher’s care, A broken wizard, iron-bare. [Outro] In endless dark, where torches fade, And light retreats from shadow’s shade, The guardian stands, unafraid, In the lonely masquerade. It casts again, into the void, A spell that cannot be destroyed, By logic or by time annoyed... And misses, wholly unemployed. (Instrumental Solo)