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 | 5556 times |
Cloned | 200 times |
Created | 124 days ago |
Last Updated | 3 days ago |
Visibility | Public |
Coordinates | (-83, 644) |
Buried deep beneath the Citadel’s manicured corridors and neon-curated surfaces lies the Data Archive—New Vance’s most guarded digital relic and most contested secret. Once a critical node of the OldNet, the Archive is now a fortified excavation site where Citadel technocrats parse through fragmented mainframes and corrupted AI cores, desperate to recover pre-Collapse intel, schematics, and behavioral algorithms. Officially, it’s a "restoration effort." Unofficially, it's a cold war under concrete. Syndicate Net-Runners dive into the ghostlines nightly, threading encrypted exploits through Citadel firewalls and leaving behind digital graffiti and siphoned files. This is where the old world’s memory is dissected and repackaged into ideology. Knowledge isn’t just power—it’s leverage. And in the Archive, every corrupted byte is a battleground between curated order and weaponized freedom.
The Archive stretches like a digital mausoleum beneath layers of cracked ferrocrete and tangled fiber-optics. Massive data towers—blackened by soot and time—pulse faintly with residual energy. Their LED arrays flicker like dying constellations in the dark. Tangled wires and obsolete conduits hang like tech-vines from support beams, and every footstep echoes in a cavernous silence broken only by glitchy holograms that fizzle with broken news feeds and fractured simulations of a world long gone. Rusted service drones wander aimlessly, their directives corrupted but persistent. Citadel agents move in neat, synchronized rows beneath UV lamps, while Syndicate sigils flash for split-seconds on shifting AR layers—reminders that the shadows are never far behind.