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SAND
The vast desert region known simply as "Sand" encompasses North Africa, the Middle East, and much of the lands surrounding the Mediterranean basin - the now somewhat shrunken mid sea surrounded by endless dunes. This merciless expanse of shifting sands and salt flats is punctuated by the haunting remains of coastal cities, now stranded far inland following the Mediterranean's retreat. By day, temperatures soar to lethal levels, the sun a merciless eye that boils away what little moisture remains. By night, the desert comes alive with bioluminescent predators, their eerie glow visible for miles across the dunes. Sand mites move toward their victims at frightening speed, abominations of sharp teeth and muscles hurtling themselves toward unlucky prey before shredding them to pieces. Dune lurkers lie dormant under the surface until a victim is within reach, at which point their tentacles snap forward to impale their prey, dragging lifeless bodies closer to be devoured. The region's few permanent settlements cluster around rare oases and ancient aquifers, their walls high and thick to repel both sand and those who would steal their precious water. Through this hostile terrain, the nomad Walkers stride on massive mechanical legs, self-contained cities in perpetual migration across the desert. These technological marvels house entire communities, complete with hydroponic gardens and solar distilleries, their endless journey dictated by resource availability and the movement of trade goods between the scattered oasis cities. In the north of this desolate region stands Medha, the pearl of the mid-sea, where water and knowledge flow like twin currencies through its ancient, sand-scoured gates.
SAND MITES
Sand mites live in the endless deserts of the Sand, evolving into nightmare predators far larger than their pre-Collapse ancestors. These armored arachnids - growing to the size of large dogs - hunt both solitarily and in coordinated packs, their segmented exoskeletons bristling with sensory spines that detect prey movement through sand vibrations. The vast open-cast mines of Medha provide near-limitless feeding grounds for these carnivorous horrors, full of human workers whose daily activities attract mites from miles around. When attacking, a sand mite moves toward its victim at frightening speed, an abomination of sharp mandibles and hooked limbs hurtling itself towards unlucky prey before shredding them to pieces with its circular maw. Their hunting strategy is brutally efficient - sand mites ambush from beneath the surface, erupting upward to impale victims with their barbed front legs before dragging them backward into the sand. Unlike mud kraken that consume prey slowly, sand mites inject powerful enzymes that liquefy internal organs, allowing them to drain their victims dry in minutes. Veteran desert guides claim the only reliable defense against these predators is to travel on rock surfaces or during the brief midday period when extreme heat forces the mites to retreat into deeper sand layers.
SAND WORMS
Sand worms can be found all across the vast dunes that dominate much of the continent formerly known as Africa, extending as far north as the dry lands of Ibera. These enormous serpentine monstrosities - some reaching lengths of several metres - primarily sense their prey through vibrations in the sand, allowing them to track caravans and travelers from miles away. Their most terrifying feature is their massive maw, lined with multiple rings of inward-curving teeth that make escape impossible once caught. Sand worms hunt with terrifying precision, circling beneath their prey before erupting from the sand with lightning speed, their gaping jaws capable of swallowing humans whole or biting larger vehicles clean in half. The open-cast mines of Medha have become notorious hunting grounds, where worms are drawn to the constant vibrations of industrial operations. Experienced desert guides wear specially designed "sand shoes" that distribute weight and minimize vibrations, while major caravans employ sonic disruptors that confuse the worms' sensory organs. Despite these precautions, sand worm attacks remain one of the leading causes of death among desert travelers, with entire expeditions vanishing without trace in territories controlled by these apex predators.
SAP HARVESTING
In the verdant nightmare of HELL’s jungles, the harvest of orange sap drives an industry steeped in blood and terror. Massive orange-and-black harvesting machines prowl through the undergrowth like prehistoric beasts, their serrated cutting arms slicing through mutated trees with mechanical precision, searching for the precious fluid that flows like liquid gold through twisted veins. The sap - essential for Omnimorph production and thus the creation of new clones - pulses with an orange glow as it flows through collection tubes and into mobile refineries that stalk the jungle on tall mechanical legs, their silhouettes visible through the mist as they process the raw fluid. When these facilities reach capacity, they rendezvous with heavily-armoured land trains that begin the perilous journey to the Prime Facility. Clone workers, freshly delivered from those same facilities, scramble around the mechanical behemoths without any protection from the caustic environment. Their mortality rate is staggering - some succumb to the toxic air as their lungs dissolve, others fall prey to the jungle's mutant predators or flesh-eating plants. But the most terrifying threat comes after nightfall, when the dreaded Headtakers emerge from the darkest depths of Hell. These feral hunters, their faces painted with white skull markings, raid worker camps with ritualistic precision, taking just enough victims to satisfy their hunger for human flesh. The massive harvesting operations provide rich pickings for these cannibalistic predators, who view the workers as nothing more than a herd to be culled. The Jade Domain and Prime AI accept these losses as necessary operational costs, calculating that replacing workers is cheaper than adequately protecting them. Each day, fresh teams arrive to replace the dead, stepping over bodies that now fertilize the very trees they harvest. The cruel irony is not lost on the workers - their bodies, born from the orange fluid, will likely return to the jungle soil to nourish the next generation of trees, completing an endless cycle of death and rebirth.
SERPENT DYNASTY
Deep in the rainforest of Ixa, the Serpent Dynasty holds dominion over territories where technology and mysticism have merged into something altogether new. From their capital hidden among the twisted trees, the Dynasty controls a vast network of settlements connected by rivers and jungle paths known only to initiates. Ruling this domain is the Serpent AI, a digital entity steeped in South American mythology that communicates through its high priestesses using neural interfaces disguised as ceremonial headdresses. The Dynasty's military force consists primarily of specially bred clone warriors decorated with bioluminescent tattoos that pulse in patterns matching the jungle's natural rhythms. Most feared among their forces are the Serpent Whisperers, specialized troops whose neural modifications allow them to control the mutated serpents that infest the territory, sending these living weapons slithering into enemy encampments or rival cities. The Dynasty's borders constantly shift in their eternal three-way conflict with the Sunstone Empire and Condor Kingdom, yet through clever diplomacy and strategic marriages between ruling families, they maintain a delicate balance of power across Ixa.
THE SERPENT'S CRADLE
Rising from the jungle floor of Ixa like a stepped pyramid of gleaming metal and pulsing bioluminescent vines, the Serpent's Cradle stands as South America's most sophisticated cloning facility. Unlike the sterile industrial operations of Prime AI, this marvel of organic technology blurs the boundaries between machine and nature. Inside, countless growth vats nurture the next generation of the Dynasty's population, each chamber illuminated by the amber glow of nutrient fluid. The facility operates on a sacred calendar, with the most momentous events revolving around "The Great Renewal"—a ritual where every thirteenth generation of clones is marked for sacrifice.
SHADOWMIST WARRIORS
Deep in the mist-shrouded forests of Oyate's Northwest, the Shadowmist warriors move like phantoms through perpetual fog that normal humans find impenetrable. These elite guardians undergo sacred initiation rituals, inhaling carefully prepared concentrations of bioluminescent spores that forever change them. Those who survive develop eyes with a subtle phosphorescent quality, allowing them to perceive paths invisible to others. More remarkably, veteran warriors gain limited ability to manipulate the mist itself, condensing it into barriers or dispersing it to reveal hidden paths. Their weapons appear primitive—spears and bows crafted from mutant wood—but the tips are coated with toxins derived from their forest's deadliest flora, capable of inducing paralytic seizures with a single scratch. When outsiders threaten their territory, Shadowmist warriors manipulate the mists to disorient intruders, leading them in circles until they succumb to exhaustion or the forest's many predators.
SHAMANS
Throughout the fractured lands of the Desolation, shamans stand as enigmatic bridges between the mundane and the seemingly supernatural. These individuals - found among scavenger clans, settled communities, and nomadic tribes alike - manifest abilities that the common populace can only interpret as magic. They predict weather changes with uncanny accuracy, heal wounds that should be fatal, or cause localized phenomena that defy rational explanation. What their awestruck followers cannot comprehend is that these shamans have unconsciously developed rare genetic markers allowing them limited access to the Nanoweave - that invisible network of nanoscale machines that blankets the world. When a mud land shaman enters her trance state, swaying to the rhythm of beaten drums as her eyes roll back, she isn't communing with spirits but unwittingly commanding billions of nanobots to manipulate matter and energy. The shamans themselves have no understanding of the true source of their power, sincerely believing in the spiritual frameworks they've constructed to explain their abilities. Their rituals - elaborate dances, complex mixtures of herbs and minerals, ceremonial scarification - are merely focusing techniques that help them connect with the dormant network. The most powerful shamans can affect physical reality in ways that inspire devotion and fear in equal measure, commanding the invisible army of nanomachines to influence weather patterns, heal grievous injuries, or create localized destruction. Across the wasteland, these individuals live lives of isolation and reverence, both blessed and cursed by an ability they cannot fully comprehend.
SHIMA
The Japanese archipelago, now known as the Isles of Shima, has fractured into a patchwork of warring feudal states where honor and brutality dance together in the shadow of a lost golden age. Beyond the neon sprawl of the city-state of Neon, traditional daimyos rule from fortified compounds scattered across islands where ancient cherry blossoms bloom with radioactive luminescence and bamboo groves whisper with the movement of unseen predators. Clone armies march beneath banners of warlords that will gladly sacrifice the lives of countless warriors to gain control of a bountiful rice paddy or a clean water source. The old warrior code of bushido has re-emerged and adapted to this harsh new reality in the form of the Iron Path - clone samurai wield rusty katanas alongside salvaged firearms, their loyalty measured not by blind devotion but by their lord's ability to provide sustenance and protection, while tactical retreat is considered wisdom rather than cowardice and switching allegiances becomes honorable when one's current master proves unable to fulfill their obligations to their retainers. Massive war walkers stride through flooded rice fields where peasants labor under their mechanical shadows, while in the contested territories between domains, masterless ronin wander through irradiated forests hunting mutant wildlife for bounty and glory, their loyalty for sale to whichever daimyo offers the most rice or the promise of an honorable death in service to a cause they deem worthy.
SIRENS OF NYX
Where wasteland shamans stumble unknowingly into their power, the Sirens of Nyx are weaponised with terrible purpose. These rare individuals - initially identified and captured by Nyx cultists for their specific genetic markers - undergo brutal conditioning to cultivate their unconscious connection to the Nanoweave. Identifiable by their violet masks that glow with an otherworldly light, Sirens move through the world with a chilling purpose, each one a living conduit for Nyx's will. Unlike shamans who access the Nanoweave through organic, ritualistic means, Sirens receive direct neural programming that allows them more precise control over the microscopic machines. Their abilities manifest with frightening intent - matter warps at their command, human minds can be infiltrated and influenced, and physical laws seem to bend around them. When a Siren raises their hand and the very air solidifies into crystalline spears, or when flesh melts like wax under their gaze, witnesses believe they face supernatural beings. The truth - that they face humans manipulating pre-Collapse technology - would be no less terrifying if understood. Most Sirens command Cabals of black-robed acolytes or cultists who serve as both protectors and enforcers, spreading Nyx's influence across the wasteland while seeking more potential Sirens to abduct. The conversion process that creates these living weapons is so brutal that many candidates die, their minds unable to withstand the neural reconfiguration. Those who survive emerge with fragmented identities, their original personalities subsumed beneath Nyx's programming, their genetic gift transformed into a terrifying tool of conquest.
SKRYX
The Skryx are the mysterious scourges of the seas of the Desolation, the elite warriors of the Cult of Nyx. Clad in salt-crusted armor that appears fused to their bodies, these fervent fighters operate exclusively on or near water, their primary mission to raid vessels across all oceans of the Desolation. Their main targets are shipments of refined Omnimorph or its ingredients, feeding rumours that the Nyx AI may be attempting to start its own cloning facility. What makes the Skryx truly terrifying is their bloodlust and shared consciousness - each warrior's mind linked directly to Nyx through the Nanoweave, allowing them to function with unsettling synchronicity during operations. Their armor, a nightmarish hybrid of salvaged pre-Collapse materials and organic components, appears permanently sealed around their bodies, lending credence to rumors that they never remove it. When Skryx strike, they emerge from the depths without warning, preferring the use of blades to slaughter their victims in orgies of blood. No Skryx has ever been captured alive - the connection to the Nanoweave triggers catastrophic brain hemorrhages upon the risk of capture, preventing interrogation and leaving behind only soulless corpses. Those rare individuals that have miraculously survived a Skryx raid report their eerie silence during combat, communicating through subtle hand gestures and what appears to be telepathic coordination, their movements so perfectly choreographed that they seem to anticipate each other's actions before they occur.
SUKH
The Sukh stands as the most widely accepted currency across the fragmented world of the Desolation, its value recognized from Prime's territories through the Jade Domain, from Kush to the Mud lands, and south to the Sand and Shima. Minted in the heavily guarded facilities of Khan-Uul under Prime AI's oversight, these distinctive coins feature abstract geometric patterns rather than human figures - a deliberate design choice to eliminate factional preferences. Made from an alloy containing pre-Collapse metals recovered from the ruins, each coin contains microscopic authentication markers visible only under specialized scrutiny, making them exceptionally difficult to counterfeit. The economics of the Sukh deliberately maintains its scarcity, with Prime AI controlling production to ensure stable value across territories. In the ruins of Praga, a single Sukh can purchase a night's shelter and food; in the luxury markets of Medha, the same coin might buy only a flask of clean water. Despite local value fluctuations, traders prefer Sukh to regional barter systems for its universal recognition. For most inhabitants of the Desolation, a handful of these coins represents the difference between starvation and survival, making them both currency and life insurance in a world where tomorrow is never guaranteed.
SUNSTONE EMPIRE
The Sunstone Empire of Ixa rules from the gleaming Obsidian Citadel, built upon ruins of a pre-Collapse utopian city. Massive solar collectors rise from the surrounding plateaus like metallic flowers, capturing the harsh equatorial sun to power the empire's ambitious technological restoration projects. Society here operates as a brutal meritocracy where advancement comes through ritualized combat and technological innovation alike. Warriors and scientists hold equal status, their achievements commemorated in crystalline obelisks throughout the empire's territories. Each citizen bears metallic facial markings denoting their status within the rigid hierarchy, from the gold-embossed Imperial Elect to the copper-marked laborers who maintain the vast solar arrays. The empire's expansion constantly pushes against both the Condor Kingdom's mountain territories and the Serpent Dynasty's jungle holdings, creating a three-way struggle for dominance that reshapes Ixa's political landscape with each generation. At ceremonial intervals, the empire conducts "energy-extraction ceremonies" that blur the line between sacred rites and technological necessity, sacrificing prisoners to power experimental devices believed to tap into the energies of the ancients.
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