New Vance City

Once a proud refinery complex under Gear Rat control, the Veridian Decay Chemical Plant was ground zero for the Chem Zone’s birth. During the Collapse, pressure build-up from ruptured vats and hybrid fuel lines triggered a cataclysmic detonation that poisoned the soil, fractured the plant, and vaporized a large chunk of the surrounding grid. Now, it stands as a cautionary carcass—its branding eroded, its halls echoing with caustic wind. Toxic runoff leaks endlessly into the cracked basin below, spawning irradiated horrors and mutagenic phenomena. Scavvers risk the zone for high-yield salvage—rare polymers, pre-Collapse stabilizers, maybe even unspent reactor cores. But few return unscarred. The plant is infamous for birthing Crystal Wretches in clusters, and rarities like Fume-Bloated Brutes and Caustic Crawlers have been sighted dissolving armored raiders in moments. Inside Veridian, the air itself is a slow death sentence. Nothing is clean. Nothing is safe.

The Veridian Decay looms like a metallic crypt—its exterior pitted with corrosion, signage melted into unreadable slag. Stacks of oxidized rebar jut skyward like exposed ribs. Pools of glowing sludge steam in cratered loading bays, while neon-green mists swirl around collapsed pressure towers. Pipework twists overhead like rusted veins, many ruptured and weeping fluorescent bile into the open. Inside, flickering emergency lights pulse erratically, bathing twisted catwalks and broken terminals in sickly hues. Walls are pocked with chemical burns and eerie growths—calcified blooms, breathing fungus, or shattered vats that leak tar-thick mutagens. Every corner whispers of mechanical ghosts and liquified madness. The floor groans underfoot, slick with ooze and warped metal. Somewhere deep in its gut, gears still turn—not powered by electricity, but by something far less stable.