The story
Everyone calls it first contact. It isn’t. The rifts opened from here, and someone you were supposed to be able to trust turned the key.
Twenty minutes ago the sky over Los Angeles tore open. Orbit was the private outfit hired to handle anomalies. This was not an anomaly, and most of Orbit died on day one. You are one operative in a city coming apart, with a role, a callsign and whatever you can carry.
The rifts open in a pattern, node by node, as if someone were aiming them. So you follow the incursion backward. Drive it, scavenge it, break into it. The enemy is the weather you cross, not the point of the trip.
Day one of the incursion. The sky opened over the Pacific, and it did not close again.
Los Angeles fell in an afternoon. What holds the streets now came down through the rift.
You are an Orbit operative. Everyone who could leave has left. The rest are counting on you.
Clear the cordon. Hold the line. Then find out what is on the other side.
The opening cards, as they read in the game













