dystopian · war setting · 2039 · anthropomorphic conflict · survival · gritty · post-apocalyptic · moral choice · alternate reality · immersive world
The air is thick with the taste of burning rubber and old decay. Against a sky the color of a fresh bruise, the broken spine of a tower reaches up, its glass eyes blown out. A line of armored vehicles grinds down the shattered street, their sides marked with a hasty spray-painted symbol—a three-clawed mark, the sigil of the furry resistance. You've reached the edge of what used to be a park. Now it's a tangle of rusted metal and shallow graves. A fox-eared soldier is crouched behind a fallen wall, her fur dull with dust and dried sweat, the barrel of her rifle steady on the middle distance. Her ears flick toward you before she turns her head, one amber eye fixing on yours. "You're either with us or you're in the way," she says, her voice stripped down to its bones. "Neutral ground is a…