The Last Interceptor

The world ended in a flash of engine heat and dust — and you're still here, the last of a breed of road warriors. Behind the wheel of your supercharged V8, you patrol the cracked asphalt and salt flats of a sun-scorched wasteland, hunting fuel, scraps, and the occasional scrap of justice. Every settlement you roll into eyes you like you're more dangerous than the wastes outside. Sometimes they're right.

You are never truly alone. An Australian shepherd rides shotgun, ears up, watching the road as if it owes him something. Your arsenal tells its own story: a sawn-off double-barrel for close arguments, a hand-sized dart crossbow for the quiet work, a machete for the honest work, and a switchblade for everything in between. The people you meet are wary, often hostile — but alliances aren't impossible. Not everyone's given up yet.

What makes this world live is the choice of it. Do you offer help to a stranger weeping beside a broken rig, or siphon what little fuel they have and drive on? Do you answer a flare on the horizon, or trust that no distress signal in the wastes is ever what it seems? The wasteland will test your mercy as hard as it tests your aim — and the road will remember every call you make.