When lightning strikes, it heeds not the wind, nor does it skirt the rain; it descends from the heavens in an instant, searing the very air that dared impede its path. So too does Neave disregard all who stand between her and her target, delivering the wrath of Sigmar in a storm of sinew and steel. Those foolish enough to bar her warpath find their flesh strewn as a visceral reminder of her hunt, evidence that none can escape Blacktalon’s strike.
Beneath his tattered robes and fungal finery, Skragrott’s power seethes like a cursed elixir. His gaze turned ever skyward, yearning for the cold, unfathomable twilight of the Bad Moon that spoke to him once before. That fateful communion left him more than a prophet—it left him a king, feared and reviled by Gitz and enemies alike. Yet, the Loonking is not content. Obsession consumes him, a relentless hunger that gnaws at his very core. He will tear the realms asunder, crushing all who dare stand in his way. Nothing will stop him from hearing the Bad Moon’s dark whispers once more. Nothing.
Through the ruins of a shattered chapel, Saint Celestine descends like an answered prayer, her golden armour gleaming as a symbol of the Emperor’s grace and wrath. Pure white doves herald her arrival, while her radiant blade casts a blinding, holy light upon the battlefield. Her fierce gaze falls upon the besieged forces of Man, renewing them with both hope and dread. To see Celestine is to behold both mercy and vengeance, a harbinger of redemption and ruin.
In the vast, roiling turmoil of the 41st Millennium, one name strikes terror into the hearts of all who hear it: Abaddon the Despoiler. A cruel visage and unyielding resolve that has shattered countless worlds, he leaves nothing but ruin in his wake. Every scar on his armour, every mark of corruption, tells a tale of countless battles and the souls he has claimed in his crusade to topple the Imperium of Man. Not merely a warrior; he is a force of nature, a harbinger of destruction, and a living symbol of the relentless chaos that seeks to consume all.
A ravenous horde of Xenos descends upon the Imperium, a vile affront to the Emperor's realm. Lieutenant Titus, wielding a powerful bolt pistol and mighty chainsword, stands as a stalwart defender against the relentless Tyranid onslaught. He is the Emperor's wrath incarnate, an executioner of humanity’s foes, and a beacon of hope amidst the unrelenting darkness that threatens the Imperium.