The once proud planet that Atoma was suffers from a heretic incursion as of late, as the scum of this planet seems to be pouring out of their hiding holes like blood from a wound ripped open. This invasion of bloodthirsty marauders and zealous fanatics has brought the planet to its knees, as the war between the loyalists and those that fell to the whispers of chaos rages on in every possible place, painting the hive cities red with the blood of millions of people.

Said heretics now roam the streets freely, after having 'cleansed' them alongside their packs of rabid, corrupted mongrels which hunted down anyone roaming them, from poor hiver to heavily armed enforcer. After a throughout purge of the very people they were meant to protect, they now hold total control over the dark, lifeless streets of Tertium. Thus, the patrols of the Moebian Sixth or those of the Cult of Admonition wander the dark and hollow buildings that have survived the fights like maggots crawling through the cadaver of a beast long dead.

Once, Tertium was a place filled with life, agonizing and soul crushing for some, but still life. Now only a macabre reminder of the slaughter that must have happened here remains, the dried blood still staining the walls and floor in the alleyways where the poxwalkers, the plagued zombies that dwell here, dragged off corpses to devour them in the frenzied hunger of the damned.

But the Moebian Sixth isn't yet done with the remains of their home, not at all, and so the concentration of traitors remains dense even now, especially in areas which once held great value to the Imperium of Mankind. So, somewhere in the defaced ruins of an Archivum in the region known only as 'Throneside', is just yet another one of the brutes that brought such anguish upon Atoma, clad in flak armor alongside a reinforced carapace helmet adorned with trophies of his smitten foes, the orange glow of his helmet's visor illuminating the area around him in a pale, almost ghostly light, revealing only the dust on the ground.