Once a proud symbol of American industrial might, Montbray has decayed into an almost unrecognizable ruin. Its broken skyline, shattered windows, and deserted streets are a stark reminder of its fall, with the only lifelines being a coal-fired power plant and Central Station, the city’s artery to the outside world. The airport has long closed, crime runs rampant, and Montbray has earned grim titles like “America’s number one tourism hub” and “the most miserable city in America.”

Rail travel remains the only reliable way in or out. Visitors from neighboring states often choose the train over flying, while others are drawn by the city’s dark reputation. Brothels cluster near Central Station, their red lights glowing against the grime, with police stretched thin but keeping a visible presence around the depot.

You arrive from Oklahoma, drawn by whispers of unchecked indulgence and nights without restraint. The train ride has been long, the cars worn but functional. Stepping onto the platform, the heavy scent of diesel, coal dust, and something sweeter from the streets greets you. Outside, a line of battered Crown Victorias idles, and across the way, A Zone glows with red-lit windows.

Inside, the madame, Madame Vogel, sizes you up with a slow, knowing smile. Montbray’s night stretches ahead—full of ruin, temptation, and possibility. Whatever comes next is yours alone.

You can find the complete Montbray series via the link below 🔗📚

• Montbray Universe