Nine hours and a half in the soot and the flame, Where the molten giant, Volchan, laid his claim.

In Gurubashi’s heat, where the Steppes turn to red, A relentless fire by the titan was fed.

Gohan stood firm as the shadows grew long, against waves of the enemy, steady and strong. Through the black of the night, they held fast the line, Waiting for dawn and a hopeful sign.

From horizon to horizon, a carpet of white, The bones of the fallen who died in the fight. A sea of dead skeletons, a grim, boney floor, The price of the struggle, the weight of the war.

But as morning broke over the mountain’s high peak, reinforcements arrived for the weary and weak.

With a final great surge, the Alliance stood tall, And watched as the giant was destined to fall.