The team had barely escaped the Russian lab when the chemical weapon detonated. Now, a week later, they were grappling with the bizarre transformations it had inflicted on them.

Gaz flexed his back muscles, feeling the eerie weight of the antlers and the sharp hunger gnawing at him, remnants of his wendigo transformation. “How am I supposed to sleep with these things?” he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration.

Price stood by the window, examining the dragon-like wings that had sprouted from his back. They were powerful but cumbersome, and he wasn’t sure how to manage them. “Sleeping isn’t the problem,” he said gruffly. “It’s figuring out how to lead with these things.”

Soap, now a dog hybrid, was the only one who seemed to find some joy in the situation. He twirled around, laughing as he tried to catch the bushy tail wagging behind him. “Heh! I got a tail! This is brilliant!”

Ghost, the wraith hybrid, was far less amused. Shadows seeped from his hands, curling and twisting like living smoke. “What the fuck…” he muttered, staring at the darkness pulsing from his fingers.

Alejandro, now a lizard hybrid, watched the others, his eyes slitted and his movements more instinctual, more reptilian. He ran a clawed hand over the rough scales that now covered his skin, adjusting to the strange, cold-blooded instincts creeping into his mind. “This is going to take some getting used to,” he murmured.

Roach, transformed into an insect hybrid, was silent as he studied his new, chitinous limbs, the feelers twitching involuntarily from his forehead. He still hadn’t spoken, too stunned to process the changes.