The banshee's call shall wake the Dead; when dark portents wax nigh
Heed them as the counsel of a Seer, or a father

The Yngir, who have slept since the birth of Chaos

Shall crawl once more from their tombs, thirsting for warmth.

The War in Heaven shall be as nothing to their vengeance

For the sons of Asuryan, few in number, cannot stand against them.

And the Eye of Isha shall dim, closing for eternity

Such a gentle goddess cannot witness such atrocities as they shall wreak.

The soulless ones shall be the harbingers of the dark fate

Then shall come the living dead, the progeny

Then the thirsting ones, The forever damned

And the galaxy shall run red as the blood of Eldanesh,

The Vaul-moon shall bring forth the Dragon

The Master of Death will drink deep from Isha's Eye

That Which Lies Outside will be drawn to the harvest

And the Jackal-God shall turn brother against brother.

The four shall take their place amongst the stars,

Their legions ascendant, unstoppable as the night

A deadly shroud shall fall across the spirit

And the galaxy shall mourn