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A slow-burn FPS survival horror set in 1923 Istanbul. Begin inside the Imperial Ottoman Bank and descend into sealed vaults, flooded cisterns, and foggy streets. Scarce ammo. Methodical gunplay. No arcade action. Face slow, relentless undead where precision means survival. One bite ends it all.
Istanbul, 1923. The occupation is crumbling. The streets are silent. A leprosy-like plague has turned the living into undeads: slow, relentless, and lethal.
You are RJ Edwards, a British banking official sent to the Imperial Ottoman Bank on a promotion you never wanted. Shortly after you arrive, you find yourself in an abandoned office: crooked ledgers, scattered notes, a brass nameplate still bearing your predecessor's name. Rain pounds the windows. Gunfire echoes outside. The radio advises calm.
Three days later, the gunfire stops. The radios fall silent. When you step into the corridor, the city has collapsed.
Crisp ADS gunplay with historical weapons: a reliable pistol, a bolt-action rifle, and a rare lever-action shotgun. Ammo is scarce. Headshots matter. Body shots buy you seconds.
Firearms are heavy, slow, and unforgiving. Every shot matters. A bullet to the knee is not cosmetic. Enemies stumble, collapse, or are permanently crippled. Precision is survival.
Undead with no humor. They do not explode or mutate. They behave like broken people. Some panic. Some charge. The shotgun exists for the moments when distance disappears.
A pistol buys time, not comfort. They are reliable, but underpowered. Brainrot infected can take several hits. Headshots are always the smarter choice.
Restore power by hunting fusebox pieces. Find keys hidden in jacket pockets, behind paintings, and inside desk drawers. Every drawer opens, unless it's locked. No crowbars. No ritual candles. Just logic and observation.
There is no clean kill. Up close, violence is unavoidable. Blood sprays, bodies collapse, and the silence returns.
Distance is safety. At range, pistols stay reliable while shotgun pellets scatter. Control the fight before it reaches you. Better pray they are not a runner.
This is a bank. Vaults were built to keep people out. Security kept weapons locked away. Ammo doesn't grow on corpses, it's hidden in guard lockers, tucked in filing cabinets. Search everything. The infected are slow, but they're resilient. You'll need every round you find to survive the corridors ahead.
Fog is danger. Darkness and fog hide every corner. Your rifle is your lifeline, but enemies could strike from anywhere. Stay alert, aim carefully, and trust your instincts, surviving the rainy night won’t be easy.
History hides in plain sight. The Imperial Ottoman Bank is filled with traces of lives left behind. Photographs, letters, and artifacts tell stories for those willing to listen.
No ammo counter. No aim assist. Just iron sights, manual reloads, and the sound of a bolt sliding home while something shuffles closer. Every shot is a commitment. Every reload is a gamble. Bolt-action rifles hit hard but leave you exposed. Spray and pray gets you killed. Aim, breathe, survive.
The Imperial Ottoman Bank. The Basilica Cistern. Galata's alleys, Sirkeci Station. Real locations from 1920s Istanbul, reimagined in an alternate history where a plague collapses the occupied city. Historical architecture turned nightmare. Flooded vaults, candlelit archives, stone corridors that once safeguarded an empire now hold only the infected.
Darkness blocks progress. Lights can be switched on or off, but power is fragile. When electricity fails, you must repair the system piece by piece to move forward.
No map. No waypoints. No HUD. Navigate by reading crumpled notes, inspecting your surroundings, and trusting your instincts in the dark.
You decide what stays lit. Every switch matters. Every shadow is a choice.
English, Turkish, Spanish - Spain, Japanese, Portuguese - Brazil
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