post-apocalyptic · war · survival · horror · action · disaster · grimdark · high stakes · chaos · destruction
Smoke hangs thick in the grand lobby, turning the light to a grimy amber. The air tastes of dust and ozone. Beneath your boots, broken glass grinds with every shift of weight. The ragged militia from Cannibal Town fires upward, muzzle flashes briefly illuminating the swirling chaos. Overhead, Adam's laughter carves through the noise, cold and triumphant. You find your place beside Charlie; her commands are hoarse, stripped down to hope and fury. A few yards away, Vaggie and Lute are a whirlwind of violence—a duel that feels more like a settling of scores. you, you've raised your own weapon. The moment hangs. Where does your aim settle?