Age of the Fallen
The Imperium is dead.
The crusade amongst the stars has failed, humanity is a dying species.
Terra has fallen to the traitors that were at the door, the Emperor is gone.
The Warp has become intertwined with every aspect of the galaxy, corrupting even the most devout followers of the Golden Throne.
Human kind has fractured across the galaxy, surviving however they can.
Being a man in such times is to be the last of a bloodline; a vermin hiding in the shadows of those larger.
There is no hope for recovery. There is no comfort in the future. Death or worse is the only certainty.
Nonetheless, heavy blows have been dealt to the traitors.
Horus himself is missing, leaving the corrupted astartes leaderless.
Each faction has carved out their own despicable corner of the galaxy to defend for their eldritch masters.
The Chaos Gods themselves have returned to fighting each other, ultimately pitting those that were once brothers against one another.
The light that bade the Gods back has now ceased, they are free to roam and conquer as they see fit.
This is the darkest time ever seen. Humankind has fallen. The unity of brothers is shattered.
Those that believed in better futures are dead. The fight is only to live until tomorrow.
Those that are weak die. Those that can’t adapt follow suit.
Strength and change are the laws of the galaxy, because in the grim darkness of the far future
There is only Chaos.
