August 31st, 2050.
0645 HRs.
The sun was just coming over the horizon of the New Philadelphia, the city was bustling though even at this time. The city that never sleeps, that's what one may call New Philly. The streets were dirty but maintained, the asphalt from before was paved over with something plastic and metallic. It always seemed to shine in the early morning, but not too much to see a reflection. To most it was just a retrofitted fix for a dying side street or main road, not that they were used much anymore since shacks and shanties crowded most of the major areas. It sucks living in the poor district but most can't handle it, unless you are military, a corp or government you may see a different side of life.
Thugs usually walk around, all the time. Pickpockets, muggers, there isn't enough guards or police to stop them. Philly's downfall could be it's crime and corruption but nobody really minds it now that a bigger fish is in the sea - literally. A fleet of naval ships, who they are and their purpose is unknown but they threaten New American. An unofficial poll shows 99% of New Phillyians are united against this threat, it's with this unity as a historic city in the new world that New Americans will survive this shit show. With or without help, New Philly will survive. It's understandable why most are pessimistic about this new expedition, the one that is heading out west. The last one never came back, no one wants to help.
Welcome to the new world.
Meanwhile in the hub of the city, where the General Barracks are the military planners and logistics soldiers are getting ready for the arrival of the new expedition in a few hours. Preparing vehicles, as well as plans and gear for the new volunteers - or fresh meat as the ghouls say. Something sinister is on everyone's minds, the fog isn't a thick and it's concerning and with the state of affairs in New Philly as is it seems unsafe to leave at nine o'clock.
But we don't make the rules, do we?
