Necrology was never meant to be clean.

In the rusted remains of the wasteland, where medicine and madness blur, a truth has taken root—one that the Ossuary Society and Arbiters of the Bond can no longer ignore. What began as whispers of surgical miracles and curative breakthroughs has festered into a nightmare of mutilation, exploitation, and irreversible damage to the Mortis itself.

The Ossuary Society, long lauded as preservers of anatomical knowledge and frontier medicine, now finds its name tangled with clandestine networks and experimental malpractice. Individuals working outside the permission of the society, but not necessarily unknown to its members. Beneath their public works lies a darker truth: unauthorized procedures, undocumented test subjects, and procedures that mock the very infection they claim to understand. This isn't just overreach. It's violation. It's desecration. And as their vaults are cracked open, the smell isn't just chemical rot—it's guilt.

Standing opposed are the Arbiters of the Bond. Once defenders of continuity and silent monitors of the law, their silence has been broken. Some seek to expose the truth. Others seek to bury it. All are caught in the unraveling of oaths once sworn to safeguard the line between life and death. But when the price of progress is paid in flesh, whose justice is it, and whose remains are left to be sorted?

A name is whispered across the wastes, tied to the atrocities of the past: Barrows.

This year, Downfall is not about surviving the horror.
It's about walking directly into it.