The Rustspire Territories

The Imperium calls it Sector 937-L, Reclamation Zone. To the gangs of the underhive, it’s just the Rustspire. Once part of a thriving hive district, the sector was sealed off generations ago after catastrophic collapses brought down its domes and poisoned its air. For decades, the Rustspire was entombed—its people lost, its industries silent, its wealth buried beneath rockcrete and ash.

Now, a series of violent sump-quakes has torn open the old bulkheads, spilling the Rustspire back into the underhive. The Guilders have moved quickly to stake their claim, declaring the region open for “enterprising reclamation.” Official edicts speak of industry, reconstruction, and duty to the hive—but everyone knows what it really means: new turf for gangs to carve up in blood.

The Rustspire is rich with opportunity. Settlements cling stubbornly to life in cracked hab-stacks, waiting for new masters to extract tribute. Old water stills and purification plants flicker back to life, providing control of the most precious resource of all. Workshops, long silent, are awakening to the spark of scavenged generators, offering a steady stream of weapons, tech, and creds to those who seize them.

But no dome remains uncontested. Gangs swarm into the Rustspire, raiding, fortifying, and drawing bloody borders in the dust. Alliances rise and fall within days, as betrayal is as common as hunger. The Guilders fan the flames, backing those who might consolidate power while quietly whispering of vaults and relics deeper within the collapsed sectors—treasures sealed away when the Rustspire first fell.

The longer the fighting drags on, the stranger the rumors grow: shadows moving in the forgotten transit tunnels, scavvies prowling beneath the rubble, and ancient machinery stirring with a life of its own. Few believe the stories—but fewer still are willing to risk ignoring them.

In the end, the Rustspire will belong to those strong enough to hold it. Every still, every settlement, every stretch of broken ferrocrete must be claimed in blood. The gangs who rise will forge empires in the depths; those who fall will be forgotten, just like the Rustspire once was.