Stygian Wars

  The Debut of the Grave-Tithe Colossus The Ossuary Fields of Kharon’s Wake The war had already been lost. Not by the servants of Chaos—but by reality itself. The sky above Kharon’s Wake had split open into a cathedral of screaming brass. Rivers of molten blood fell upward into impossible clouds while skulls rained like hail upon the dying. At the center of the carnage stood the daemon that had ended worlds. A towering Bloodthirster. Its wings eclipsed burning ruins. Brass armor dripped with fresh gore, trophies rattling from chains across its scarred flesh. In one hand, an axe large enough to sever battle tanks in half. In the other, a whip of living fire that split the earth open wherever it struck. Around it lay the broken remnants of three armies. Imperial armor burned. Aeldari constructs smoldered. Even Chaos warbands—those foolish enough to mistake allegiance for mercy—had been reduced to butchered offerings. The daemon roared to the heavens. And the Warp answered. Thousands ...