New Vance City is a post-collapse RPG where survival means customizing everything—classes, skills, races, and gear are all unique. Set in 2070, a year after the world cracked and the infected rose, this cyberpunk dystopia pulses with story-rich factions, brutal politics, and unforgettable characters. Forge your path in a smog-choked ruin where the line between savior and syndicate blurs with every shot fired. Fight zombies, raiders, and mutated creatures and test your survival in New Vance City!
Played | 5545 times |
Cloned | 200 times |
Created | 124 days ago |
Last Updated | 3 days ago |
Visibility | Public |
Coordinates | (-163, 222) |
Harmony Loop Plaza is a civic showcase nestled at the mid-tier of the Citadel’s controlled infrastructure, originally designed as a recreational commons and behavioral calibration zone. On paper, it’s a park—a “morale garden” blending synthetic nature with pre-programmed serenity, complete with ambient music nodes and automated snack dispensers. But in practice, it functions as a surveillance hive, where every movement is monitored, every conversation triangulated, and every face scanned by discreet drone swarms. Citizens frequent the plaza for daily “wellness pauses” and community gatherings broadcast with curated cheer. Children play beneath omnidirectional projectors while enforcer drones hum silently above. It's clean, calm, and quietly oppressive—an environment engineered for stability rather than joy. People smile here, because the system expects them to. Those who loiter too long or speak too loudly tend to vanish from the Loop, archived under "redistribution".
Harmony Loop Plaza unfolds in concentric rings of pristine design—white-tiled walking paths circling artificial turf fields, bordered by rows of genetically stabilized cherry-blossom trees that bloom in perfect synchronicity. Transparent display kiosks pulse gently with curated newsfeeds and social performance metrics, while calming instrumental music drifts from unseen speakers. Children’s laughter echoes beneath the high arc of a programmable sky dome that flickers subtly to simulate daylight, though the real sun never reaches this far. At the plaza’s core is a circular water feature—a perfectly still pool with an embedded LED sigil that shifts shape based on surrounding emotional data. Citadel enforcers clad in glossy polymer armor patrol the perimeter, walking synchronized routes with mechanical grace. Small security drones hover just below rooftop level, casting barely visible surveillance beams like glimmering spiderwebs.