New Vance City

Endhold sits directly beneath the old quarantine border, making it a nexus point between abandoned evac routes and the graveyard slums. It’s technically outside of most mapped sectors, yet motion signatures remain constant. Unlike other stations, Endhold has functioning power—though its source is unknown. The station appears to cycle its lights every six hours, matching old metro schedules. Silent Walkers move freely through the area, sometimes gathering around malfunctioning security turnstiles without purpose. It’s assumed they’ve repurposed the station as a convergence site. Drones sent in return scrambled footage, and onboard sensors report minor electromagnetic anomalies. Human entry is discouraged; most records of Endhold have been manually scrubbed from the grid.

Endhold looks partially renovated—floor tiles replaced, signage uncorrupted, emergency exits re-marked with white tape—but everything’s slightly off. Benches are perfectly aligned, but all face away from the tracks. Trash bins are full of teeth. The lights remain active, but flicker in patterns resembling Morse code. Silent Walkers patrol the walkways in loops, never deviating. No Shambler corpses are visible, but blood trails lead beneath a service shutter permanently locked halfway up. The air hums faintly. Ceiling-mounted cams swivel when movement occurs, though none have power routing. A countdown display above the escalator resets every four minutes. No one knows what it’s counting toward.