War has begun, a conflict that will engulf mankind in fire. At Isstvan V, Horus dealt a vicious blow and three loyal Legions were all but destroyed. Thrust into battle against one another, victory is uncertain for either side. Magnificent, superhuman beings, they are the crowning achievement of the Emperor's genetic science. Pre-eminent amongst them, the leaders of their thousands-strong Legions are the primarchs.

Some remain loyal to the Emperor, whilst others have sided with the Warmaster.

Once, these ultimate warriors fought side by side as brothers, protecting the galaxy and bringing mankind back into the Emperor's light. His armies, the mighty and redoubtable Space Marines, are locked in a brutal civil war. His favoured son, Horus, has turned from his father's light and embraced Chaos. The Emperor's glorious vision for humanity is in ruins. note Now to lighten the mood! Read this aloud in your most hamtastic voice! There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants - and worse. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few.

Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Master of Mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. For more than a hundred centuries The Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth.

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