“The hearts of everyone across Kybele… No, the hearts of everyone across the Seven Systems! They're what we're all reaching for! We will grasp the world's spirit in our hands… and light it up with joy and truth! We will set the galaxy aflame from Kybele's stage!” - Xanthe Criss, leader of Delta-V

• Formerly the cultural powerhouse among the Seven Systems
• Population centres at poles of planet in the form of massive cities, hotbeds of intrigue and hedonism
• Now a motley collection of warring micro-states
• Inhabitants live amongst blasted skyscrapers fashioned into new architecture

If you made movies, music or games, the capitals of Kybele were where you wanted to be. Crystalline skyscrapers, jutting out of the streets, housed millions of office workers every day in the megametropolises at the planet's poles. Though the slums, the suburbs and acres of crop fields technically outdid these cities in size, in the memory of the Seven Systems the culture would always loom the largest. The entire planet was devastated by the loss of the GCS Ananke, boarded as it had been by the most important musical talents across the planet. Three groups of singers and their handlers left, to perform in a highly competitive showcase; none would come back, and the agencies that managed them would never be the same again.

Besides media and celebrity, the other thing Kybelians valued most was money. The planet was a plutocracy; those who accrued money accrued power. For this reason, displays of conspicious consumption were not only frequent amongst the political class, but an active means by which power would be consolidated and defended. There was, for this reason, a ritualised culture of gift-giving and patronage between citizens; it is hypothesised by contemporary sociologists and historians that this is part of the reason the family structure became so solidified later in the planet's life. Feasts and balls were commonplace occurrences, especially among the ruling and upper-middle classes, and these would be elaborate and colourful affairs. Nevertheless, there would always be the unspoken assumption at these ostentatious social gatherings that they were affairs of business and politics. Mysterious deaths at and immediately after these gatherings were very frequent.

While generally a relatively isolationist planet, Kybele and Eunomia were particularly hostile towards one another, and in fact ended up at war in the years before the Ananke was destroyed. Partly the enormity of the war immediately afterwards, and partly the simple slow, trudging reality of the war effort, relegated this conflict to a footnote in the system's history.

The climate was, of course, ruined; it's difficult to get anything to grow in Kybele now, and what preserved food was left was looted long ago. To that end, it's not uncommon to see glass trapdoors, shoved haphazardly into pavements, covering underground greenhouses. There is a network of tunnels, miles long, underneath the biggest city on the planet - some old hypersubway systems, others just capillaries built on top - and this is often where urban-born Kybelian children will grow up, and Kybelian farmers grow their crops. Above ground, skyscrapers (glitter now lost) have been fashioned into collective homes, their girders twisted into high bridges. Survivors and their families live in clusters around the planet; often a single dwelling-place will start deep underground and climb all the way up the still-usable half of an old apartment building.

Pretenders grab whatever land they can. The borders between territories are always shifting as those with the guts and the firepower take what they can for themselves. The centre of this conflict is always the cities - the suburbs and the hinterlands see much less strife. Nevertheless, a traveller down the sun-bleached highways will still see the banners of different clans on the outskirts, covering housefronts and barns, glittering like coloured jewels. Nor are all these groups the same: some are biological and adoptive families, others military outfits led by a warlord, others still new religious groups or even artistic collectives. You will want to know on whose turf you stand at any given time, and by what name you should be calling it.

For most of those who lived before the Ananke disaster, there is a strong feeling of nostalgia towards the era of lustrous skyscrapers and unbelievable celebrity. Vintage movies and music are frequently hoarded and watched with reverence among the survivors. That said, there is also a significant undercurrent of skepticism and resentment, particularly from the planet's younger population. Was it not that extreme focus on money and power, they argue, that created the Kybele of today - a planet wracked by near-constant turf wars and power grabs? There is a decently large subculture of people who believe in accepting and understanding that Kybele is changed for good, and creating a mode of art entirely different to the old culture and beliefs.

Devotion to family, clan or group is also a vital part of modern Kybelian society. Though these thousands of individual groups - known as 'micro-states' where they control land - can be (and often are) wildly varied and diverse, their importance to the individuals within them is an unspoken expectation. The most important members of these micro-states will almost always be in near-constant negotiation with their neighbours, whether through war or diplomacy. Assassination, espionage and small-scale conflict are ubiquitous near the population centres. Groups like these are usually extremely hierarchical, no matter which values are most prominent to them. Known micro-state types that exist include biological families, chosen families, companies providing goods or services, artists' collectives, religious movements and political parties; this is by no means an exhaustive list.