Prologue
It is said by many that stories have three key parts: The Beginning, The Middle, and The End. The way in which these are told is crucial - if you do not know enough during the Beginning, the Middle makes no sense, and the End feels inconclusive.
It is the bane of a reader to not know enough, to feel left out, to misunderstand the story.
So then.
In the grim darkness of the 41st millenium, there is only war.
And so it has been for many hundreds, if not thousands, of years.
The bloody fury of the Orks carves a deep gouge in the side of peaceful worlds.
The screams of the slaves of the Dark Eldar echo through the Webway, a sign to those not yet lost as to what is to come.
And worse, the tendrils of the Warp probe at the minds of creatures, tempting them to it's dark whims, showing them worse than what any Eldar could manage. And they like it.
But more final than any of those, something stirs... Something ancient and unfeeling, with the strength to destroy all life.
But all things must end eventually.
The spark of life dies, devouring itself in it's fitful wish to continue.
Many years before, on a small Imperial Forge World...
