Today is the last light of Fallstar’s golden age. Four years have passed since the half-breed prince ascended to The Spire. The Imperium still smolders from a failed civil war, and the Emperor now moves to open Fallstar’s borders for the first time in more than eight centuries. Tension coils in every street and noble hall as ultranationalists and inquisitors alike sharpen their knives, each eager to unseat the prince.
The sun will set on this brief splendor.
Across the Pantheon, a new era crowds the horizon, one that will make the wars of the old gods look merciful. Its fall begins with a single gunshot, a report that echoes through every reality.