Post-Apocalyptic

New Vance City

Pollution

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!

Author's Note: The year is 2070, one year after the Collapse. The place? New Vance City. Skeletal remains of skyscrapers pierce the smog-choked sky. Patches of overgrown desert flora claw at cracked asphalt. Inside, survivors try to make the best of their fragile existence, repurposing solar panels and scavenging for supplies. Kids growing up in this hell hole play amongst the ruins of the city, their laughter a thin, hopeful melody that just isn't strong enough to pierce through the grim ambiance of the city. Life here is filled with nothing but scarcity and fear. Every creak in the night, every flicker in the solar grid, every hum or buzz... It's all enough to send shivers down your spines. Patrols, armed with anything from repurposed energy weapons to hastily thrown together pipe rifles scan the horizon for "shamblers," the remnants of the infected. Yet amidst the hardship, the community is still blooming. New Vance City still stands, at least for now. A flickering candle in the encroaching darkness of a world forever changed.

Played	5543 times
Cloned	199 times
Created	124 days ago
Last Updated	3 days ago
Visibility	Public

The Black Market

Area

Details

Size	0
Type	Underground District

Description

Beneath New Vance City’s fractured pavement lies the Black Market—a lawless underworld pulsing with flickering neon and encrypted whispers. It has no borders, no maps, only entrances whispered between Syndicate contacts and tagged in UV glyphs. Within, desperation is currency and customization is survival. Black-market limbs twitch on autopsy trays, memories flicker on illegal neural drives, and chemical concoctions are sold like candy. Violence is fast, digital, and stylized—handled by augmented fixers cloaked in glitchware. No faction claims authority here but the Shadow Syndicate, who operate as ghosts behind holographic veils, brokering deals with anyone who can pay the price. Above, the Citadel calls it corruption. Below, it’s the economy. In a city choking on rules, the Black Market is raw freedom—bloody, beautiful, and utterly unforgiving.

Appearance

A maze of subterranean tunnels lit by flickering glitch-screens and bioluminescent graffiti. Hacked vending machines hiss steam beside chop-shops glowing in blue and red. Shadows stretch long in the recycled light as aug dealers and synthjackers barter beside humming neon signs in languages long dead. The air thrums with tension and static.