Tyberus, Bring Me My Volcano Cannon!

After a daytime lasting forty Terra hours, the entire forging world gradually entered a long night that would last sixty hours.

As the pale crimson night curtain filled with Warp Storms continued to descend,

if someone stood atop the highest Forge Factory or ancient palace on Triple Fahl,

they could see, through the barely passable air, a striking scar that nearly stretched across the entire pale crimson night sky.

It was the Great Rift, the catastrophic Warp fissure that had completely split the vast territory of the Imperium of Man in two.

To the other Xenos Civilizations in the galaxy,

the Great Rift was also known by thousands of different names and titles, such as the Scarlet Path, Gog's Grin, Devouring Maw, Devourer of Hope, and so on.

But to the entire Imperium, or rather, to the human subjects living on the Imperial Dark Side, the Great Rift that appeared every night was a cursed scar spanning the void.

Since the Great Rift's birth, the repeated ravages of Warp Storms had completely severed Warp travel and communications on the vast majority of Imperial worlds.

Even worse, some had unexpectedly discovered that the once-unshakable laws of physics seemed to be starting to falter.

On some Imperial worlds, several centuries felt as though they had passed in an instant.

On other Imperial worlds, time had nearly come to a standstill, while still others constantly shifted between the two states.

Triple Fahl was likely in a stage where time was constantly changing.

At times, the flow of time during the day and night was entirely different.

Perhaps several days, or even dozens of days, would pass before the dawn of the next day arrived.

At that very moment, atop an ancient palace,

Rorschach, seated in a metal chair while wearing Vibranium Power Armor,