"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.