New Vance City

Beneath the central Waterworks lies a labyrinth known as the Dripline Vaults—an ancient filtration system long since overtaken by rust, shadow, and silence. Once designed to process thousands of gallons of water daily, the Vaults are now a patchwork of flooded chambers, corroded catwalks, and pressure-sealed maintenance shafts. Officially decommissioned, these tunnels are kept deliberately off-grid by the Hydro Hegemony, rumored to be used for black market trade, water hoarding, and punishment. Desperate scavvers sometimes brave the depths, seeking forgotten tech or hidden water caches, but few return. Stories speak of faulty AI drones still executing outdated protocols and pressure doors slamming shut without warning. But the real fear? The Vaults hum at night. Not with machinery—but with breath. Something's down there, forgotten and wet. The Hegemony denies its existence. That’s how you know it’s real.

The Dripline Vaults are a vision of decayed industrial grandeur. Stained steel walls ooze condensation, layered with calcium scars and faded hazard warnings. Amber emergency lights flicker dimly behind cracked panels, casting ripples across waist-deep pools and algae-slick grates. Catwalks curve and vanish into steam-thick corridors, their rails wrapped in decades-old caution tape, some torn, some still flapping gently in unseen currents. Beneath the surface, tangled pipelines worm through the flooded sublevels like mechanical intestines, echoing with the creak of shifting pressure and distant metallic groans. Occasional hydraulic hiss bursts from unseen valves, and every sound carries like a whisper across drowned chambers. Mold creeps like veins across forgotten consoles, and shattered visors from lost expeditions glint beneath the waterline—silent testimonies to those who tried to steal from the flow.