Mosslorn

Fall of Mosslorn

_ ” They used to call it Mosslorn. A towering city of glass and steel. Hyper-modern. Hyper-efficient. A symbol of what humanity could become.

Then — everything stopped.
No sirens. No bombs. No last broadcasts. The world simply… went silent.

Nature didn’t hesitate. Ivy crawled up the monuments. Moss swallowed the roads. Trees pierced the ceilings of offices long emptied. Mosslorn stood still, but it was no longer dead.

Now, only whispers remain. Half-broken radios, old security footage, shattered journals.

You awaken in this city with others — or perhaps alone. You know nothing except this: you must survive.

The day is heavy: heat, moisture, exhaustion.
The night is worse: they come. Creatures of hunger and instinct, prowling the depths of what used to be home.

But you're not the only survivor. Somewhere in the ruins, others are moving too. Allies? Enemies?

Maybe you'll find them. Maybe you'll form something new. Or maybe...
You’ll be like the others, lost in the shadows of Mosslorn.

Mosslorn will bury you like all the others. ”_

The Days and Nights of Mosslorn

_ ” The sun never feels quite right in Mosslorn. It’s too hot. The air clings to your skin. Even walking feels like moving through water.

The ruins are vast — towering buildings stretch from the old street level to the skies, their insides choked with roots and silence. Each alley, each tunnel, each rooftop tells a story. But stories won’t keep you alive.

You’re part of a small team — two, maybe three — scattered somewhere within this 1000-block wasteland. You have no guide. No objective. Just instincts and whatever scraps you can find.

During the day, survival is a slow bleed. Heat drains your strength. Equipment fails. Your speed falters. The deeper you go into the city, the worse it gets.

When night falls, the rules change. The city awakens.
Shadows twist into teeth. Buildings breathe. Creatures hunt. Some say they were always here — waiting for us to leave. Others think they're what's left of us.

You can hear them at night. The growls, the whispers, the rustling of leaves.

And somewhere, deep in the concrete bones of this place, there are others. Survivors like you. Maybe you’ll meet. Maybe you'll fight. Maybe you’ll build something better.

Or maybe this city will eat you too.

You get one life.

One chance to make Mosslorn remember your name. ”_