Doom Protocol is a large-scale PvPvE shooter where five rival factions descend from orbit into a dwarven megacity carved inside a mountain. Fight through cities, forges, and mines, steal the Boomstone, and run like hell before anyone else can stop you. Dwarves included.
Drop into your team’s forward operating base, push through dwarven districts, seize control rooms, fight across the central shaft, raid the Boomstone vault, and sprint back uphill through complete chaos. No rounds. No lanes. Just everyone in the same mountain at once.
Doom Protocol is a multi-team PvPvE heist. Every match is the same terrible idea: go into the mountain, steal the glowing thing the dwarves worship, and try to leave.
Each match starts the same way: five carriers hover overhead, one for each faction. Your squad slams down into a forward operating base dug into the mountain. From there, it’s all bad decisions.
Inside the mountain is a full dwarven city—housing, breweries, markets, forges, mines—stacked in layers around a central shaft that goes down much farther than anyone comfortable wants to look. You’re here to fight through all of that and steal the Boomstone they’ve wired into everything.
The flagship map is a single continuous space carved inside a mountain: a dwarven city on top, industry in the middle, raw mines below, and a dragon-guarded reactor at the bottom.
Balconies, plazas, taverns, theaters, and a glowing cathedral. Tables are half-set, doors left open, toys on floors—everyone walked out at once when the alarms sounded and came back with helmets and axes.
Forges roar, conveyor belts rattle, pipes hum, and walkways crisscross overhead. Breweries, armories, machine halls and maintenance tunnels turn every fight into a mix of cover shooting and “who just hit that lever?”
Jagged caverns carved into ore, scaffolding bolted to nothing in particular, minecart tracks that cross bottomless pits. Down here, dwarves fight like they own the place— because they do. You are very much the intruder.
The bottom of the mountain: a colossal vault where a chained dragon guards a humming reactor core the dwarves have been worshipping, wiring into everything, and occasionally arguing with. The Boomstone sits here, waiting for someone brave—or stupid—enough to pick it up.
Each color represents a full sci-fi faction with its own carrier in the sky and a base on the mountain. All of them want the same thing. All of them arrive at the same time. None of them asked the dwarves.
From your FOB, you can see your carrier overhead, your colors on every crate, and the mountain looming over you. Somewhere inside is a humming reactor core nicknamed the Boomstone. Whoever gets it home wins. For a while.
Most players just know it as “that glowing thing you grab before everything explodes.” For anyone who actually reads lore, the Boomstone has a history. A very long, very bad one.
Long before humans ever saw this mountain, a civilization called the Aetherion Empire crossed the stars using a network of jump gates. Their war-flagship—the capital ship Threnody Ascendant—vanished in the final days of a war nobody remembers.
It didn’t vanish. It crashed here. Buried in rock and forgotten, its power core kept humming under the mountain for millennia until the dwarves found it, dug around it, and did the only logical thing: they wired their entire civilization into it.
Humans classify the Boomstone as a Class-Omega zero-point reactor core. The dwarves call it the Sundering Stone in their myths, the Boomstone in their pubs, and the Very Hot Angry Orb in children’s stories. It powers their forges, their lights, and their brewery. Humans would very much like to remove it from the premises.
Doom Protocol is a shooter where half your deaths come from things that don’t have a gamertag. The dwarves have been engineering this place for centuries. Not for safety. For fun.
Cross the central shaft on narrow stone spans while pendulum blades swing, crushers slam, and wind tunnels push everyone toward a very long fall. The fastest routes are always the ones the dwarves labelled “Perfectly Safe, Probably.”
Minecarts erase squads that weren’t looking both ways. Conveyor belts drag firefights across the room. Collapsing scaffolding punishes anyone who stops moving. The dwarves call this “efficient workflow.”
Dwarven defenders spill out from deeper levels and push toward the entrances. Ignore them and they’ll build barricades in all the worst places. Help them and they might accidentally help you. Intentionally, even.
Each team gets a “dwarfologist” — a human who has spent way too long trying to understand the locals and now sounds slightly unwell when he talks about them.
Doom Protocol is built to generate “you had to be there” stories: five-team PvPvE, huge vertical spaces, lethal traps, and just enough dwarven nonsense to make every match go off the rails.
In-engine screenshots and concept art from the flagship map: FOBs on the slopes, dwarven cityscapes, the central shaft, industrial mazes, the deep vault, and of course the Boomstone itself.