Hear this call, all Prodigals of Avalon and beyond, for a great darkness festers in the heart of Paris where Catherine de' Medici has become something far more terrible than queen or patron of mortal schemes, as the Order of Gabriel joined with the Order of Reason has turned from zealotry to blasphemy, hunting not to destroy but to harvest Garou and Fera, Kindred and Kithain, Mage and Wraith alike, forging from their stolen essence war engines of iron and bone, constructs of fire and sanctified ruin, and devices that unravel glamour, vitae, and spirit, things that are not weapons but violations of the natural order, and at the center stands Catherine who is said to have bound fallen angels in chains of power, drawing from realms that should never touch the mortal world, bending life, death, and time itself, with whispers among the Nosferatu that she seeks not dominion but revision, a world rewritten where Prodigals never existed, meaning that if she succeeds we will not die but will have never been, and so this is no longer a matter of territory or politics but of extinction, for if Paris stands then Avalon falls and if her ritual completes then all falls, therefore let the Moots roar and the Courts awaken, let Princes call their banners and Freeholds blaze with balefire as all Prodigals are called to war, Garou and Fera to bring rage and tooth, Kindred to bring blood and ancient power, Changelings to bring dream and legend, and Mages to bring will and counterspell against the unraveling of reality, for even the dead stir and the Umbra trembles, and the objective is clear that Paris must fall, the Order must be broken, and Catherine must be ended with no mercy and no half measures, as the portals will open and the Moody Badger will stand as rally point and passage, and all who come must be ready for war, knowing that if we do not stand together now then there will be no one left to remember that we ever stood at all, for by fang, by flame, by dream, and by blood, Paris must burn or the world is undone.