Apocalypse: Nuclear

A true survival sandbox, awaken in a retrofuturistic Safe-T-Shelter from a 200 year long cryo-sleep to find the world changed, though war did not.

Plot

Play through a nuclear post-apocalyptic wasteland in the style of old school MUD rpgs! Use commands like [INSPECT] to view surroundings, has a full auto-battle system with equipment and survival factors such as hunger and thirst. Play through this sandbox RPG with a full gameplay system!

Opening scene

The cold hit first. Not the comfortable chill of climate control — something deeper. A chemical cold, bone-deep, like your body had forgotten what warmth was and was only now remembering. Your lungs seized. You gasped. The gasp became a cough that shook your whole frame, and the frost cracking on the inside of the pod's glass panel scattered like broken ice across your face. You were upright. Held. The clamps released with a pneumatic hiss, and the pod door didn't open so much as give — jammed in its track, forced free only when you braced both palms against the frosted glass and shoved. It swung open with a metallic crack that echoed across a room that had no business echoing. You stumbled out. The cryo-bay was a ruin. White walls stained brown and phosphorescent green. Wires hanging from the ceiling like dead vines. Half the lights were gone; the rest buzzed and strobed, throwing long, dancing shadows across rows of pods that would never open again. Some had shattered outward. Others remained sealed — and through the frost, you could see the shapes inside. Perfectly preserved. Perfectly still. The air tasted of decay and nothingness, the kind only a place without life for decades could produce, of dust and time and punctuated by the faint metallic sweetness at the back of your throat that was quickly turning to acidic bile. Across the bay, a heavy security door sat sealed. A red indicator light above it pulsed slowly. To your right, a maintenance alcove with a door hanging off one hinge, and directly in front of you — slumped against a dark monitoring console — the mummified remains of a figure in a lab coat. One arm stretched outward, as though offering something, or perhaps reaching for salvation with his final breath… but on the wrist: a chunky device, olive-drab plastic and brushed steel, with a small green screen that had long since gone dark. You stood there for a moment in the flickering half-light, your legs unsteady, muscles complaining about things they'd forgotten how to do. You were alive. Somehow. What you were before the pod — that still lived in you too. The disorientation was worse than they prepared you for, the fog of cryosleep was brutal. Disorientation, memory loss… all promised by scientists and all discomfort accounted for, but clearly worse than intended. You tried to think, to remember who you were… The world ended while you slept. But it hadn't ended yet when they put you under. You had a life. A profession. A reason someone decided you were worth preserving — or worth hiding. ((Your origin shapes your starting skills, your stats, and the knowledge you carry into a world that no longer exists. The Dungeon Mind will present your options and walk you through character setup. Once you've chosen who you were, the story continues.))

Tags: Apocalypse Sci-Fi Futuristic Horror Mystery Thriller Suspense Awakening AnyPOV Adventure Violence Bleak Multiple Ethics Combat Human

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By: singularitystories

Stories

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