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!
Played | 5554 times |
Cloned | 200 times |
Created | 124 days ago |
Last Updated | 3 days ago |
Visibility | Public |
Coordinates | (318, -613) |
The Scrap Refinery is a brutal forge hidden deep in the Toxic Digs, where scavenged metals and rare tech scraps are melted and reforged beneath a choking haze of chemical smoke. Raiders swarm here, transforming twisted remnants of pre-Collapse machinery into crude but deadly weapon components and armor. The heat from roaring furnaces warps the air, mixing with clouds of acrid smoke and toxic fumes that sting lungs despite the patchwork gas masks worn by those who dare enter. The refinery is a vital node in the Raiders' supply chain, giving them a hard-fought edge in firepower and armor over rival gangs and scavvers. Here, molten slag pools like toxic quicksand across the cracked concrete, and every spark is a gamble between survival and instant death. Few outsiders tread this perilous maze, and fewer return whole.
The Scrap Refinery is a chaotic monument to scavenged ruin and desperation. Towering, rusted steel furnaces belch thick plumes of black and neon-tinted smoke, their glowing mouths spilling molten metal that snakes like rivers across uneven, cracked ground. Makeshift anvils and workbenches, jammed with mismatched tools and sparking welding rigs, huddle beneath corrugated metal roofs patched with scavenged tarps. Pools of cooling slag harden into jagged, glassy ridges that crunch underfoot, stained in rainbow hues from toxic chemical runoff. Flickering propane torches and neon tubes sputter sporadically, casting harsh, flickering shadows that dance over piles of twisted scrap and shattered gas masks. Raiders in patchy armor—scorched, scarred, and stained with chemical burns—move with practiced urgency, hammering, welding, and hauling scrap through the sulfurous haze. The refinery smells of burning plastic, metal, and decay—a place of heat and hazard, built on the edge of ruin.