In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only War.

It is the year of the Imperium, 999.M42. The long shadow of the Tyranids now
looms over a quarter of the galaxy. They consume entire star clusters in days,
leaving nothing but silence.
The Eldar have all but vanished. Craftworlds lay shattered among the cold
expanse, broken and dead.
The Necrons have begun a long march, to destinations and intentions
unknown.
The Orks revel in the bloodshed, as they always have.
It has been centuries since the Tau abandoned the notion of the "Greater
Good". They have fled from their outer worlds, retreating inwards as the
galaxy burns around them.
Chaos has been set free. Cadia has finally fallen to the Ruinous Powers, and
the Eye of Terror expands with every vile blink. The black legions have made
their way to Sol itself, and even now a battle rages across the sacred skies of
Holy Terra.
The High Lords have thrown aside all reason, and kneel before the Imperial
Palace itself, begging for salvation. Will it come? None truly know. The
Emperor protects...