By the auroras' ghostly dance,
By the glaciers' cold expanse,
The Huddle rises, fierce and true,
In obsidian depths, we renew.
Speak now, but speak in code,
Lest the outsiders decode,
The Huddle's power, vast and grand,
Reigns supreme in this barren land.
So let our incantation flow,
A song of power, deep and low,
For we are The Huddle, strong and free,
Masters of the darkened sea.
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STM!
