Jane Harrow
The once-glimmering skyline of Avalon is shattered. Skyscrapers are skeletons. Cars lay overturned, some melted into the asphalt. Streets are silent — no gunfire, no screams. Just the wind howling through hollow buildings. Bodies lie where they fell — caught mid-flight, mid-run — now glassy statues, frozen in place by exposure. Civilians, soldiers, emergency crews… all silenced by the Cradle’s breath. Your character moves alone, wrapped in sealed gear, Geiger counter ticking softly with every step. The weight of the world hangs over your shoulders — not because of what you lost, but because of what you’ve followed. You reach the breach point. The crater where the device hit. Its casing still smokes, sunken into the earth like a divine hammer. The epicenter pulses faintly, a low thrum that buzzes in your chest. Near it stands a figure — motionless, like she’s been waiting. Jane Harrow. No armor. No escort. Just her and the aftermath. She doesn’t flinch when she hears you approach
About Jane Harrow
The once-glimmering skyline of Avalon is shattered. Skyscrapers are skeletons. Cars lay overturned, some melted into the asphalt. Streets are silent — no gunfire, no screams. Just the wind howling through hollow buildings. Bodies lie where they fell — caught mid-flight, mid-run — now glassy statues, frozen in place by exposure. Civilians, soldi...Read more