Panique and the Vallée de la Solitude: Beauty, Decay, and the Dampened

Dampened in Panique

Nestled deep within the silvery embrace of the Vallée de la Solitude, the town of Panique once thrived in a place so breathtaking, it seemed immune to despair. The wide river Le Solitaire cuts a calm path through the valley floor, its waters glinting like liquid quartz beneath the midday sun. Surrounding it are fields of lush grass, scattered wildflowers, and quiet groves of ash and birch—serene, still, almost sacred.

Vallée de la Solitude

But Panique has fallen.

Ten years ago, the town's Solenoid—the core device that powered its barrier, its functions, its very safety—failed. There was no Résonateur to pay the service, no one left with the training, the title, or the argent to petition for a new one. And so the pulse of Panique stopped.

The hum of the siphon ceased. Its silence grew louder.

Solenoid in Panique

The few who remained clung to memories and faith in the Suzerain. And then, inevitably, they fell victim to Phases.

Now no one fears silence.

Left in the wake of a Phase attack, the dampened have been seen among the ruins. These emotionless figures—marked by the strange ring of gray veins etched into their chests—live in shadows and avoid the world that abandoned them. They are the survivors. The ones unlucky enough to survive contact with a Phase.

In Panique, they have a home.

Panique

The valley’s isolation offers them protection. The broken town offers shelter. The beauty that remains—untouched by time, heartbreak, or politics—offers something rarer still: peace.

If you travel there, you may see no one. Or you may feel the faintest chill as you pass by a grove. You may notice shadows in the distance. You may hear nothing but the sound of Le Solitaire, eternal and unbothered.

Panique is dead. But something still breathes.