7 worlds

Universe 1 – All Zones

All Zones is a quest-driven magical reality layered over the ordinary world, governed by a cerebral cosmology few humans can perceive. Most people move through life unaware that reality is partitioned into hidden “zones” — segments of existence where logic shifts, language becomes physical, and intent can reshape terrain.

The world carries a dark bent. Imps, aberrant creatures, and elevated beings operate within their own hierarchies, negotiating power through ritual, memory, and symbolic exchange rather than brute force.

Universe 2 – Drumdoll Village

After the Faerie–Undead War burned itself out, the werewolves rose from the wreckage and finished what the conflict began. Survivors were culled, magic was outlawed, and the last changeling mages — the Feldlings — were herded into Drumdoll: a prison village built to contain what remained of their kind.

Here, the sun scars their skin raw and the wardens enforce a brutal doctrine: no spells, no rituals, no resistance. But magic is the only thing keeping the Feldlings alive. They heal in secret, hide their abilities, and siphon life-mana from the defeated when they must. Survival demands it. Morality bends around it.

The Dark City looms nearby, feeding off the village while pretending it doesn’t exist. Generations have grown up inside Drumdoll’s fences, raised on exhaustion, fear, and the slow erosion of hope. Escape is a story told to children. Rebellion is a fantasy no one can afford.

The Feldlings are not heroes. They are survivors — scarred, hunted, and nearly broken. Yet beneath the silence, something still moves: quiet acts of healing, coded rituals, and the stubborn instinct to endure.

In Drumdoll, magic hasn’t died. It’s been forced underground.

Universe 3 — The Infected Towns

A chain of forgotten settlements where something went wrong and never stopped. Think vintage Silent Hill filtered through Lovecraftian dread: poisoned streets, hospitals that heal nothing, and survivors marked by what they’ve witnessed. You don’t escape these towns—not really. Even if you leave, the rot follows in memory, in dreams, in the quiet moments when the world feels slightly off. Every visit leaves a scar, every survivor carries a story, and every story hints at a deeper infection spreading beneath the surface.

Universe 4 – Wayne’s Farm

The Farm is an environment-fuelled world where the ordinary and the malignant grow side by side. A typical British farm frames it—fields, sheds, chores—but threaded through are the alien bed, the church, the war’s lingering shadow, and demons circling at the margins. Children grow up with half-yeti playmates; living tumours are kept as keepsakes. At its core is Wayne’s mother, a destructive gravity of self-loathing and guilt, pulling him into her chaos until the land, the memories, and the body all begin to fuse into something inescapably alive.

Universe 5 – The Highest Mountain

Rises above Earth like a scar, its vast interior carved by an ancient civilisation that fled underground after their own toxic mutation reshaped them. Tunnelling deeper than any species before, they reached the threshold of the divine and heard the whispers of a distant council of gods. Millennia later, Olson—the last surviving elder of the First Kind—returns to the surface no longer a child and meets Brian Walden, one of the last remaining gods. He is underwhelmed by what divinity has become. Humans now dominate the world, restless and newly powerful. Together, Olson and Walden act like reluctant superheroes, gathering unstable superpowered beings to prevent another war. Yet apathy defines the age: few believe the world is worth saving, and fewer still will fight for it.

Universe 6 – The Shards

The Shards of the Wall is a quiet purgatory, a holding place for the dead who find themselves on the Curator’s good side. There is no fire, no torment — only waiting, observation, and the slow drift of memory. Entertainment comes in the form of the shards: pocket universes splintered from the Wall when it broke long ago.

The Wall itself is vast and unknowable, formed from the accumulated minds of intelligent life — every memory, story, and unfinished thought layered into a living structure that once held the afterlife intact. When it fractured, pieces fell away and became worlds of their own, looping fragments of lives, possibilities, and echoes.

Here, the dead travel between shards, witnessing lives that never quite resolve, searching for meaning in the debris of consciousness. Judgment has not yet come. This is simply where we wait — and watch — until it does.