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"Your soul is the crucible, and hatred your only weapon against the Daemon. Let both burn bright." — Prognosticar Theoddus, recounting a vision he received in the Augurium. Sons of Titan have been silent. Too Silent. The War has raged on. My Brothers have not participated. Nor have I. We have not have been idle. We know the Enemy is out there. Training. Preparations. Making ready for the coming war. I felt a tremor. An anomaly in the Warp. Darkness. A Shadow. A Fog. It is lifted, briefly. Chaos. The Great Enemy. Traitors, Daemons, Heretics The fog returns. And Lifts again. The Great Devourer. Tyranids. Visions continue. Orks T'au Drukhari Aeldari Necrons Votann Astra Militarum Adeptus Astartes Adeptus Mechanium Adeptus Custodes Adepta Sororitas The Holy Ordos The Sector becomes clear. Ultima Segementum The Malestrom. Badab Sector Khymara Subsector. Khymara Prime One of my Hearts skips a beat. A single word comes across my mind. PRAXIA War is returning to Praxia.