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	5556 times
Cloned	200 times
Created	124 days ago
Last Updated	3 days ago
Visibility	Public

The Armory and Supply Depot

Point of Interest

Details

Coordinates

(98, 97)

Description

Tucked deep within the Glass Ring, the Armory and Supply Depot is the beating, militarized heart of the Citadel Council’s survival strategy. Part warehouse, part vault, part propaganda set piece, this facility isn’t just a stockpile—it’s a shrine to security. Accessed only via biometric scan and drone escort, it houses everything from prototype pulse rifles and trauma gel cartridges to nutrient rations and modular armor systems. Every shelf is digitally cataloged, and every item tagged with an expiration, an origin point, and a kill ratio. Overseen by emotion-screened quartermasters and guarded by auto-turrets on silent swivel, the depot exemplifies the Council’s dream of a controlled future. Order is not optional—it’s built, stocked, and scheduled. In a world of chaos, this place is proof that someone still believes a bullet with a barcode is safer than one with a soul.

Appearance

The depot is a cathedral of clean precision. Towering walls of white steel glint beneath an artificial skylight simulating an unbroken blue sky. Inventory towers rise like monoliths—automated lifts humming softly between glowing rows of armor crates and supply bins. The floor is pristine alloy, etched with guidance lines and hazard zones glowing in subdued neon hues. Holographic displays float beside every shelf, projecting specs, maintenance logs, and Council-approved usage protocols. Surveillance drones hover silently above, casting long elliptical shadows across polished surfaces. Guards clad in polymer-weave exosuits patrol in perfect synchronicity, their faceplates mirrored and unreadable. Even the scent—filtered ozone and sterilized oil—feels engineered. It's less a place for people than a space for perfection, sealed in chrome, curated for continuity, and sterile enough to choke out rebellion.