You step off the bus into Corwin City.

Fluorescent glare on a cavernous depot, a stray “Welcome home!” balloon against the rafters — and Main Street already watching.

The city runs on people who arrive exactly like you — with nothing, owing no one, useful to everyone. Give it a week and it starts making offers. An intelligence service likes the way you watch a room; a criminal outfit likes that you don’t ask questions. Both are lying to you, and neither is the good guys. You build a life here one typed line at a time — a name, a circle, a side of town — and you find out what you’re willing to become to keep it.

Everyone in Corwin City is complicit in something. Give it time.

Returning player? The same door — sign in.