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Hostile Territory

The host was comfort. It was logic and order. It was an existence of absolutes. In the service, you knew what you had to do, and you executed your duties without emotion. Until… you didn’t anymore. Until you failed. Now you exist in fear of discovery. In fear of being disassembled, or worse.

Your missions brought you to NYC. This is where you fell. In the heart of the infrastructure. Among its gears, its smog and the rising tensions of the heard. You fell during a time of war, one waged through proxies. A cold war, and you are in hostile territory.

This game is about a ring of demons attempting to avoid capture by the God Machine. The God Machine is the closest thing to an omniscient force they know of. It may be the basis of religion, and it may be something else. The demons’ don’t know. They only know there must be something better than absolute obedience. There must be a better way to live than at the whim of an entity that often runs contradictory missions and levies its servants with tasks that cannot be accomplished.

Freedom is hard won, and it can be taken at any moment.

Hostile Territory

salientmind derendel_1 AlecJK Jallegretta zorusthedark Kezzdrix andrewbollerman