The Hollow Choir is the Gutter Saints’ domain—a sunken web of interior blocks, sealed streets, and stacked residential ruins buried beneath the Shatterreach’s violence. If the Iron Dogs rule the open roads, the Saints rule what people fall into when there’s nowhere left to run.
This area was once dense, low-income housing mixed with clinics, schools, shelters, and municipal buildings. When the outbreak hit, evacuation stalled here. Power flickered but never fully died. The Saints emerged not as conquerors, but as caretakers—offering food, protection, and structure to the desperate. By the time people realized the cost, escape routes were gone.
The Hollow Choir is unnervingly quiet.
Streets are narrow, shaded, and partially collapsed
Windows are boarded or barred from the inside
Vines and mold creep through cracked concrete and stairwells
Dim lights glow behind curtains at all hours
Bells, chains, or wind chimes hang in doorways and corridors
Sound is discouraged. Loud outsiders are watched. Silent ones disappear.
The Reliquary
A former hospital turned into the Saints’ central compound. Upper floors serve as indoctrination halls and leadership quarters; lower levels house slave pens, holding cells, and labor processing. The smell never fully leaves.
Debt Rows
Entire streets of connected apartments where “indebted” residents live under constant supervision. Doors lock from the outside. Movement is scheduled.
The Confession Wells
Basement chambers and sublevels where discipline is carried out. Survivors claim you can hear voices echoing through the drains at night.
Labor Gates
Barricaded exits where chained work crews are marched out daily to scrap yards, construction zones, or sold to other factions.
The Saints do not patrol openly. Control is maintained through:
Informants embedded in every building
Confessors moving quietly between blocks
Debt records and ration control
Fear of being “reassigned”
Violence is precise and hidden. Public executions are rare—disappearances are preferred.
The Hollow Choir is tolerated because it feeds the city’s worst needs:
Labor for raiders
Workers for the Exchange
Bodies for dangerous salvage
Everyone hates the Saints. Everyone uses them.
People whisper:
“If they offer you shelter, keep moving.”
“The Choir sings when the doors close.”
“No one escapes clean.”
The Hollow Choir represents:
Exploitation disguised as mercy
Control through dependence
Survival twisted into ownership
It is not loud. It is not fast.
It is patient—and that makes it terrifying.