Chrome & Covenant started with a funeral scene and a question: what if cyberpunk had consequences that mattered?
Most cyberpunk games give you a dark future and enough firepower to shoot your way through it. The genre has always been about style over substance — cool chrome, neon rain, corporate villainy as set dressing. I wanted something heavier. Something where installing cyberware wasn’t just a stat bonus but a moral decision. Where the network you hacked wasn’t just infrastructure but a haunted landscape with memory and judgment. Where the choices you made in session three echoed into session thirty.
That question became Lucent Ark: what if someone built technology to restore human dignity, and what if the people who profit from the opposite destroyed them for it? That’s not far-future speculation — that’s now, stretched to its logical conclusion.
The sacred punk aesthetic came from wanting faith and technology to coexist without either one being the answer. The AIs aren’t gods and they aren’t tools — they’re something in between, and nobody agrees on which side of that line they fall. That ambiguity is the point. “Tuning the Signal” lets every table decide for themselves.
Chrome & Covenant is being built in the open. The core rules will be free. The lore is growing on this site. The fiction drops monthly. And when the books launch, they’ll go deeper into a world that already feels real — because by then, you’ll have been playing in it.
The signal is growing stronger. Thanks for listening.