Nightgrid

A corp-grade neurotoxin is already in your blood. Every step costs more than it looks.

You wake up in an underpass somewhere in Meridian’s poorest sector — no memory, no money, no way out. Just a rusty oil drum, a torn tent, and whatever you can carry. The grid can’t hold power to every block all night, and when it cuts, whatever the dark was keeping out gets in. Down here, they call what’s left the nightgrid.

Scavenge by day. Survive the blackout by night. Hold out long enough to get extracted.

Your health is your only currency

This isn’t a game about finding a bigger gun. Every vital you have is your health bar and the fuel you spend to search. Risk more to push further into the ruins and pull more from the wreckage, or hold back and rest, and go into the night with nothing new. Whatever you don’t spend scavenging is what you’ll have left when the blackout hits.

Go out on your very last vital and come back with nothing edible, and that’s the run. There’s no safety net down here except the one you build yourself.

The sector doesn’t refill

Every scrap of loot is finite. Some of it vanishes every single night whether you take it or not; you’re not the only one working this ground.

Build what keeps you alive

Each evening, a fixer offers you two schematics: armour, weapons, defences, but nothing’s free. Every build costs materials and a food item, so keeping your camp stocked means giving something up. Light the drum to hold off the cold and whatever hunts in it, but know the fire draws eyes: leave it dark and you might slip past unnoticed; light it, and something will always find you.