New York State

By 2040, New York State is a fractured land, an echo of its former prosperity and grandeur, where vast tracts of wilderness and desolate towns are juxtaposed with the scattered remnants of a once-thriving urban sprawl. The state's cities are ruins, its rural areas a mix of overgrown farmlands and the eerie silence of abandoned villages. But even in the shadow of New York City’s collapse, the rest of the state has followed its own, twisted trajectory into survival and decay.

Pre-2030: The Collapse Begins

Prior to the catastrophic events of the 2030 missile strikes, New York State was already dealing with the aftershocks of global instability. The Colombian drug lord’s nuclear bomb in 1993 left a scar on Manhattan that stretched into the very fabric of the state’s economy, culture, and infrastructure. While the rural and upstate regions were spared from the immediate effects of the attack, the economic ripple spread across the state like wildfire. The financial heart of the state, powered by industries, agriculture, and the services supporting New York City, had been shattered. Manufacturing and shipping—once the lifeblood of upstate New York—suffered a massive decline, as did tourism, which had been an important part of the economy, particularly in the Finger Lakes, Adirondacks, and Catskills. The state government, having largely failed to stabilize the city, faltered as well, with major political shifts occurring in the mid-2000s as the federal government collapsed under the weight of civil unrest, corporate wars, and the rise of extremist factions across the nation.

The Long Winter and Disintegration

As the years wore on, the state’s remaining institutions deteriorated. The harsh winter of 2020 was a symbol of what was to come. With subzero temperatures, massive snowfalls, and infrastructure paralysis, New York State’s rural areas were just as much in turmoil as its urban regions. Farmers who had once tended to vast farmlands found themselves unable to make deliveries, their crops rotting in the fields as roads were impassable and supply chains failed. The National Guard was called in to help, but they were ill-equipped for the severity of the crisis, their resources stretched thin as lawlessness began to creep into the rural counties. Desperation led to the rise of small, self-sufficient communities, some of which attempted to re-establish old agricultural practices or construct fortified towns that could withstand the growing chaos.

The BosWash Corridor and the End of Governance

By the Time of the Red in the 2020s, the region that had once been known as the Boston-Washington Corridor (BosWash) was mostly governed by corporate entities, local warlords, and clandestine factions rather than any official state or federal authority. Albany, the capital, became a contested city, though it remained a nominal headquarters for what little remained of state governance, now reduced to local militias and mercenaries hired by powerful corporations. The remnants of the state government made their last stand here, attempting to maintain some semblance of order, but they were slowly eclipsed by corporate interests, foreign power players, and rising factions from the underground.

The rural and upstate regions, particularly in the Adirondacks and the Catskills, were among the last to fall to chaos. Their isolation allowed them to hold on longer than the rest of the state, and some of these regions became havens for those seeking to escape the violence of the cities or the reach of corporate domination. Small towns like Saratoga Springs, Binghamton, and Ithaca retained vestiges of their old charm but were slowly overtaken by a sense of lawlessness and uncertainty. Some rural enclaves were fortified, while others turned into ghost towns, abandoned by all but the scavengers who picked through the remnants.

2030: The Final Blow

In 2030, the world plunged into its darkest chapter. The Russian and North Korean missile barrage that flattened New York City also had a profound effect on the state as a whole. The nuclear strikes further weakened any fragile infrastructure that remained, particularly in the downstate and Hudson Valley regions. The agricultural heartlands, which had relied heavily on trade with the city, now found themselves cut off, their ability to support the surrounding regions severely diminished. In the wake of the missile attacks, a radiation cloud spread over much of the state, hitting the western portions and the Hudson River Valley with toxic fallout. Many of the state’s agricultural communities fled to the north, retreating into the mountains and rural areas, seeking refuge in towns that could still offer some semblance of security.

The Struggle for Survival

With New York City reduced to rubble and the remainder of the state in ruin, the once-great Empire State became a fractured patchwork of disparate groups. Upstate New York, particularly the Adirondacks and parts of the Catskills, became a refuge for the displaced. Some of these remote areas formed small, agrarian militias, growing their own crops and raising livestock to survive. The remnants of old-world technologies, such as solar farms and underground bunkers, became hotly contested territories, with scavengers and raiders picking through the wreckage. The state’s old infrastructure—the canals, railways, and major highways—had long since been destroyed, and now travelers and nomadic groups wandered the land on foot or in makeshift vehicles.

The empty wasteland of what was once the Hudson River Valley became a no-man's-land, with the occasional gang or corporate contractor fighting to stake a claim to any resources left. Corporations such as Arasaka, still holding influence in the region, were rumored to have established clandestine operations deep in the remote parts of the state, using the disarray to conduct their own business interests—dealing in salvage, trade, and illicit operations. Meanwhile, factions of Crossed—the infected who bear the telltale rash upon their faces—were increasingly seen among the few remaining survivors, driven to madness and violence as they scrambled for control of what little remained.

Modern New York State: Fragmentation and Hope

In 2040, New York State is a land divided. Downstate, where New York City once stood as a symbol of power, is now a wasteland of desolation, with no real government to speak of. The people who remain are broken into factions, fighting for what’s left of the state’s resources. The Hudson River Valley remains a focal point for survivalist groups, scavengers, and refugees. Upstate, the Adirondacks and Catskills stand as a refuge for those who seek isolation and relative safety, though even these regions are not untouched by the creeping chaos of the outside world.

Beyond these areas of destruction, the state holds onto a fragile semblance of life. Towns like Albany, Syracuse, and Rochester, though severely diminished, are slowly trying to rebuild with the few resources that remain. The trade between these few areas of life sustains the remnants of the state, but they do so in a delicate balance between progress and collapse.

Old regional alliances still persist, albeit in fragmented forms. The remnants of old regional governments or corporations maintain a tenuous hold on what they can salvage, while a growing network of underground operations (some local, others global) begin to form new alliances, hoping to rebuild the state into something beyond its former glory.

The hope of resurrection for New York State remains faint, and while life continues to thrive in isolated pockets, there are few willing to venture back into the ruins of the past. Instead, the people of New York are left to carve out their own futures in this fractured land, always with an eye on the horizon, wondering if a true future could one day emerge from the ashes of the old world.