The Enochian War

My name is Haldin Raish. Legionnaire. And the High General just murdered my parents. My dad was well respected in the Legion. Always had a reputation for doing the right thing, no matter the cost. He was a good man. And whatever he stumbled onto got them both killed. Messily. Now, that red-eyed thing is coming for me. It walks like the High General. Talks like him, too. But it's not. Human beings don't shirk off gunfire and smack grown men across the room like that. Not even High Generals. And he's not the only one.

Reeling in the aftermath of the White Tower incident, Haldin Raish is struggling to get by. What he needs is time, peace and quiet, and probably the ear of an attentive soothsayer. But the raknoth have other plans... Across Enochia, terror reigns. Civilians are disappearing. Monstrous hybrids roam the land, attacking faster than the Legion can keep up. Across Enochia, the raknoth are winning.

In the wake of the hybrid massacres, a devastated Enochia looks to their leaders for answers. From the safety of his White Tower, the High Cleric gives them. "Look no further than to those who upset Enochia's natural order to begin with," he says. "Look no further than to Haldin Raish, and his demonic ilk."