The Sixth World doesn’t give people much time to grow up. Whoever you are, wherever you live, there’s going to come a time when the world is going to throw you some serious curveballs. And, if all you can do is bitch and moan about how you’re not ready for what’s coming your way, you’re not going to last long. Get strong, grow up, figure out how to survive. One of those tests is about to hit Lena. She doesn’t have much to help her, except for some new powers she does not understand. Using them, and some unexpected allies, is the only way she will live out the day.

James Kincaid is the type of guy who might be described as down on his luck, if only he’d had some luck to begin with. Like so many people in the shadows of Seattle, he’s trying to get by with what he has. In his case, that includes a lively spirit, a sadly diminished magical talent, quick wits, and good knowledge of the twists and turns of Seattle’s dingy streets and back alleys.

The life of a lifesaver. DocWagon - saviors of the needy, rescuers of the desperate. Willing to go anywhere, rescue anyone, as long as that “anyone” has forked out enough advance cash to justify the effort. Reporter Amelia Hart has embedded herself with a DocWagon team to see what their life is really like, and she’s in for a wild ride. But will they survive long enough to remember that in the Sixth World, nothing is truly random?

It was supposed be a simple extraction from the Brussels2Rome party train. With an eclectic crowd, a willing target, and a lot of nuyen at stake, what could go wrong? Everything - as Makeda Red discovers the hard way. There’s more than one target on the train, and more than one shadowrunner team in play. When someone sabotages the tracks in the middle of the Swiss Alps, she’s forced to extract her client much earlier than planned.To complicate matters, other survivors are also fleeing the crash for their own reasons.

Down these dark streets…Most folks see Puyallup as the worst Seattle’s got to offer; a tangled mess of metahumanity and greet, poverty and ghettoes, vice and corruption, where the crime is more organized than the government. They call it a Barrens, an armpit, a cesspool. Jimmy Kincaid, though, calls it home. Walking the line between shadows and the desperate light, semi-legit like only a Puyallup brat and former cop can be, he insists Puyallup has a heart and a soul, that it’s a place of life, magic, and starving hope.