
In the year 2242, the integration of arcane magic and human cybernetics birthed a new era of hyper-capitalist dystopia. The sky is permanently choked by smog, illuminated only by the neon glow of the Megacorps who hoard the world's remaining leylines.
Magic cannot be drawn from nature. It must be purchased in the form of synthetic mana batteries and injected directly into casting implants.
Elven biology naturally rejects chrome. Implants in Elves require heavy, expensive immunosuppressants.
Highly adaptable and heavily modified, they make up the bulk of the workforce and street gangs.
The incredibly wealthy upper echelon. They rely on pure, uncorrupted magic rather than cybernetics.
The lowest levels of Neon Aethel, entirely devoid of natural light. Lawless, dangerous, and home to black-market ripperdocs.
The towering headquarters of OmniCorp, built directly on top of the planet's last pure magical leyline.
Mid-city's stacked pleasure districts: noodle stalls, spell-tattoo parlours and rain that never reaches the ground. Everyone here owes someone above and exploits someone below.
Chrome-flooded freight piers where data and contraband arrive in the same crates. The water below reflects neon perfectly, hiding what swims beneath it.
The elevated transit loop that stitches mid-city together, its carriages running on tithed leyline charge. Above it, corporate air-lanes; below it, everyone else's whole life.
A district OmniCorp de-powered for unpaid arcana bills, now lit by bottled spells and burning bin-glyphs. The Front runs a free leyline tap on every corner; the Choir runs the corners.
A sheer face of the Ley-Spire where discarded data cascades as glowing rain into the mid-city, scavenged by sieve-priests and identity thieves. Standing under it too long changes your dreams.
2088
The First Integration — The first successful bonding of a spell matrix to a cybernetic nervous system.
2105
The Leyline Wars — Megacorps went to war over the control of the earth's natural mana fonts.