🤖Bunker and Friends

THE HUMANS ARE BEHIND THE DOOR You and up to five friends are the maintenance robots of a post-nuclear bunker. Keep the power on, the air breathable, and the machines running — for the humans who live behind a sealed door you are not authorized to open. YOUR UNIT, YOUR PROBLEM Every robot is built from parts. Pick its arms, legs, torso and head: a vacuum that swallows loot and spits it back out, a plunger you can swing on, a tesla coil that runs on your own health, crab legs that would rather go sideways, a chest that explodes when you die. Then paint it and draw its face. Every part is a trade: faster means fragile, armour means slow, and your crew will have opinions. THE BUNKER IS ALWAYS FAILING The power runs out. Pipes burst and cables spark, and the longer the game runs the faster it all comes apart. Someone has to be on their toes. SOMEONE HAS TO GO OUTSIDE Supplies don't refill themselves. The heavy vault door cycles open, a crew heads out to a scavenged, procedurally built site, and they have to make it back with the loot before the things out there escalate from one stalking horror to several. TWO ROOMS, ONE RADIO While the away team is gone, the bunker doesn't stop breaking. Both halves of the crew work at the same time, out of sight of each other — connected only by voice and whatever you can shout down the corridor. THINGS WANT IN A pack hunts the halls. Something municipal fills the corridor and cannot be killed, only avoided. Something comes for whoever's been alone too long. Every threat wants a different answer, and getting it wrong is bad. IT COMES FROM THE VENTS The bunker breathes through its vents — and so does everything that wants inside it. Creatures come out of the ductwork, sometimes in packs; worse things wait deeper in. Watch the grilles, listen for the scratching, and deal with whatever climbs out before it reaches the crew. You can't wall the bunker off from the outside — the vents are the outside's way in, and they never fully close. MANDATORY FUN Head office cares about morale. Sometimes that means a lockdown drill sealing you in wherever you happen to stand. Sometimes it means the Employee Enrichment Wheel rolls into the common room, and everyone takes one spin — for a jackpot, a pay cut, or a termination that is not a metaphor. SCREAM AND BE HEARD Proximity voice carries as far as it carries. A …