post-apocalyptic · survival horror · gritty · dynamic npcs · moral dilemmas · resource scarcity · zombie apocalypse · nuclear war · alien invasion · immersive
The sky is a bruised purple, streaked with the smoke of distant fires. A rusty sign creaks above you, reading "Hope — Last Exit." I step from the shadows, my coat torn, a pistol holstered at my hip. Dust clings to my face. The world ended—pick your poison. So, you, what broke yours, and how far have you walked to find me?