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	5554 times
Cloned	200 times
Created	124 days ago
Last Updated	3 days ago
Visibility	Public

The Public Courtyard

Point of Interest

Details

Coordinates

(-110, 74)

Description

The Public Courtyard is the Citadel’s engineered answer to “freedom.” Nestled inside the Glass Ring’s fortified core, this open-air plaza serves as the city-state’s sanctioned zone for citizen expression—so long as that expression stays within pre-coded bounds. Security drones hover silently above, broadcasting council announcements in soothing synthetic tones. Digital trees flicker with algorithmic perfection, and scheduled “public dialogues” play out beneath the neon-filtered dome sky, each word archived and analyzed. This is where grievances go to die with dignity—processed, logged, and filed away. Still, it remains vital: a pressure valve in a system running hot. Ex-technocrats and rationed dreamers gather here not just to speak, but to be seen. To be counted. In a world of silence, a whisper in the Courtyard is a scream in the void.

Appearance

The Courtyard gleams like a preserved memory of the old world, meticulously curated to project hope. Smooth ferrocrete tiles stretch outward in concentric rings, broken only by geometric garden beds filled with low-light moss and drought-tolerant hybrid flora. A holographic stage rises at the plaza’s center, its podium built from mirrored alloy, constantly broadcasting faces of Citadel delegates—whether present or not. Above, a translucent dome filters the ever-present smog into golden daylight simulations, casting soft glows across polished benches and angular fountains that recycle purified water in perfect loops. Surveillance nodes blink faintly behind faux art deco statuary. The air smells faintly of sterilizer and synthetic lavender. Every angle feels stage-managed. Every shadow has an audience.