They are destruction.ĭead eyes wake, and gaze upon the worlds of the living with cold contempt and burning hatred. Theirs is a conflict fought between sky-darkening swarms, and mountains of muscle and sparking metal. Planets are stripped bare, drenched in flame, and smote to molten ruin. The greenskin thrives in the cauldron of strife, and the Warring Triad stretches its talons across the galaxy entire. With its demise, the final barrier holding back the galaxy's grandest horrors has fallen, and the heavens tremble with the thunderous roars of alien beasts. The Imperium has collapsed, its vast armies exhausted, its strength bled out by a thousand festering wounds. The Emperor is dead, impaled upon his throne within his gilded cage of Terra.
