© 2026
Neo-London remembers nothing. The Dominion made certain of it. You are Cipher Reeve — the man their erasure failed to take - and the buried Signal you've touched carries the memory of everyone they erased. A psychological techno-thriller where truth is contraband and every choice is recorded.
Neo-London does not remember the world it lost — because it was built not to. After the Purge, history wasn't destroyed. It was removed, rewritten, and replaced by a regime that understood a simple, terrible truth: a population that cannot remember what was taken from it cannot grieve, cannot resist, and cannot rebuild.
That regime is the Dominion. It controls the feeds, the frequencies, and the silence between them. Beneath its clean compliance districts and its drone-lattice sky, something older is still breathing in the dark. You are going to find it.
Cipher Reeve was supposed to forget. The Dominion's harmonic suppression takes everyone — it took your city, your history, your name for what the world used to be. It did not fully take you. That partial failure left you resistant to the one process the regime depends on, and made you something its systems have no protocol for: the first viable Bridge in generations.
You are not a chosen one. You are not a super-soldier. You are a fracture point — hypervigilant, breakable, destabilized by truth rather than empowered by it. Your strength is not that you can win a fight. It's that you can survive contact with what everyone else was made to forget.
They call it the Black Signal, and they're afraid of it for the wrong reasons. It isn't a hack. It isn't a rogue intelligence. It is the scarred, distributed remnant of a civilization the Dominion murdered — a wounded meta-consciousness assembled from the memory-remains of everyone who was erased. It cannot speak. It cannot act. It can only reach, pulse, and resonate through the cracks in a managed world. It has been waiting for someone who could survive hearing it. After decades, that's you.
You do not fight your way through Neo-London. You read it. The dead carry residue. Objects hold the emotional imprint of what happened around them. Whole districts remember crimes the Dominion sealed. You move through the world by following the trail of what it was forbidden to say — and every act of remembering has a cost, paid in your own ability to hold a single, coherent self while a million borrowed lives press against the inside of your skull.
When the Dominion tried to erase you and failed, the part of you that refused to break became something else — a second presence, born of survival, that moves when you freeze and holds the line when the resonance threatens to drown you. It is not a villain. It is not a possession. It is the reason you are still standing. Learning to work with it, under pressure, when there is no other option, is the most intimate relationship in the game.
The people around you are not menu trees. Speak to them, and they respond — their dialogue driven by an AI mind that runs entirely on your own machine, so the conversation is alive without anything ever leaving your device. A former Dominion archivist who walked away from the machine and now anchors you to yourself. An analyst whose mind sees the patterns no one else can. A deserter who knows the regime from the inside because he used to be its instrument.
Your choices are not cosmetic, and they are not forgotten. What you choose to uncover, how deep you press, how much of the erased world you're willing to carry and at what cost — these decide what you become and what the city receives. Every consequential decision is recorded, and the record persists. This is the opening arc of a saga designed so that what you do here echoes forward — into a world, and a story, that has not finished reacting to you.
ConOps21 began as a twelve-book saga, and the world doesn't stop at the edge of the game. There are systems already live in the real world — places that respond, that track, that anticipate — for players who go looking. Some of you will notice the anomaly. Some of you will follow it. What you find there is not marketing. It's the same world, watching back.
This is a single-player narrative experience built on dread, not spectacle; on implication, not exposition; on the horror of a curated reality rather than the noise of a firefight. If you came for a power fantasy, this is not that. If you've ever wanted a game that treats you like an adult, trusts you with silence, and makes the act of remembering feel dangerous — Neo-London is listening. So is something else.
Play the Black Signal demo — the prologue of the saga — and make first contact. Then add ConOps21: Subversion Protocol to your wishlist, because the world only gets louder from here.
Play a failed erasure — fragile, resistant, the only mind that can survive the Signal
Read a world through its buried memory — the dead, the obj
English
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