Coreline Metropolis is the beating metallic heart of the Corporate Constellations’ empire on Iron Pass—a sprawling, multi-tiered megacity carved into the frozen crust and rising in glittering layers toward a smog-choked sky. It is the only place on the planet where the cold, iron wind is muted by noise, neon, and the constant hum of commerce.
Built atop ancient mining superstructures and expanded through relentless corporate ambition, Coreline is part financial district, part propaganda machine, part worker containment grid, and part glittering showpiece used to convince off-world visitors that the Constellations represent stability.
In truth, Coreline is a labyrinth of polished lies and steel bars.
From a distance, Coreline looks almost utopian:
Holo-billboards glow like constellations
Glass towers reflect the stormlight
Elevated rail lines ribbon between megastructures
Corporate mascots smile down from skyscraper faces
But step closer and the cracks reveal themselves:
Drone patrols sweep the streets
Surveillance towers blink with cold purpose
Advertising screens loop the same five slogans
Workers move in waves, synchronized by shift alarms
Coreline shines like a beacon,
but every light has an owner—and a price.
The highest, cleanest, and most exclusive level of the megacity.
Here stand the headquarters of the three Constellation divisions:
Dominion Ironworks Hall
Hardspar Directorate Spire
Cindermere Research Forum
Streets are lined with air-purified promenades, corporate gardens, and armored limousines. The sky above is filled with holo-sculptures of smiling executives and corporate manifestos.
Unauthorized entry is met with immediate detainment—sometimes “temporary,” sometimes not.
The mid-level maze of malls, trade halls, neon avenues, vendor blocks, and promotional plazas.
Here one finds:
megastores selling everything from food packs to branded oxygen canisters
hyperbright arcades
banks and credit firms tied to corporate loyalty programs
entertainment domes with artificial beaches
endless ads promising a “Better You Through Corporate Advancement™”
This is where corporate propaganda is at its loudest and brightest.
Joy is mandatory.
Spending is expected.
Massive cylindrical living towers packed with worker families and contract employees.
Features include:
narrow windows
recycled-air corridors
scheduled lighting cycles
biometric locks tied to employment status
constant loudspeaker announcements
Each habitat block has its own corporate “morale officer,” equivalent to a prison warden with a marketing degree.
Workers joke that you don’t live in Coreline—you’re stored there.
A labyrinth of maintenance tunnels, freight elevators, coolant rivers, fusion kilns, and old mining shafts repurposed into power channels.
This is where infrastructure crews, unauthorized laborers, and the desperate barter for survival.
Here, everything the Corporate Constellations want to hide is buried:
terminated experiments
failed prototypes
unregistered personnel
dissidents
forgotten machinery that still hums
The Underworks is a graveyard of discarded ambition.
Every wall, every transport rail, every holo-display radiates carefully engineered corporate messaging:
“Compliance Leads to Prosperity.”
“Constellation Stability: Your Future Secured.”
“Iron Pass: The Heart of a Better Reach.”
“Loyalty Bonuses Now Available for Multi-Generation Contracts.”
Security drones recite mantra-like reminders about productivity.
Executives appear in live streams with impossibly perfect smiles.
Workers receive personalized ads based on their output metrics.
You don’t just live under surveillance.
You live under advertisements about surveillance.
There are jobs, but they are indentured.
There are promotions, but they cost loyalty.
There is entertainment, but it is engineered to pacify.
The Void Cartels maintain no open presence here, but their fingerprints appear in:
counterfeit ID chips
corporate espionage contracts
discreet disappearances
Union cells try to organize between habitat levels.
Hackers attempt to breach morale networks.
Freecrew agents occasionally slip in disguised as vendors.
The Constellations crush these efforts quickly—yet not completely.
Enough survives to keep the spark alive.
Coreline is the Constellations’ showpiece:
a monument to corporate power built atop a world of suffering and ore.
It represents:
everything the Constellations promise
and everything they hide
For players, it is a powder keg of narrative hooks:
infiltrations
labor riots
corporate espionage
rescue missions
sabotage operations
undercover work
defectors seeking asylum
corporate war between divisions
It is a cyberpunk dystopia turned inward, polished outside and rotten deep.
Coreline Metropolis is:
A glittering trap.
A fortress of glass.
A monument to a broken promise.
A city where dreams are commodities
and freedom is contraband.
It is the Constellations’ pride, their mask, their machine—
and the largest crack in their armor.