In 2006, magic was caught on camera about thirty minutes north of Boston, Massachusetts. The witches of the world flocked to Salem to pool their resources for a ritual that would hide it, but the burgeoning young internet spread it faster and further than they could predict, and the overambitious ritual backfired spectacularly.

  The year is 2046. Monsters prowl the streets of the Boston quarantine area, hunted by the department of xenonatural affairs. Corporations sell safety in the form of military surplus and cybernetic enhancements, while gangs trade in magic brooms and monster pelts. And every friday night, the city is plunged into a data blackout where all hell breaks loose.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  For those that operate in the shadow of Salem, there’s one rule to follow above them all: Don’t Get Burned At The Stake.