The city was dead.

Skyscrapers split in half like bones. Cars buried in cracked asphalt. Smoke rising like prayers that never got answered. The soldiers cleared this zone out three days ago—burned it to the ground, swept it for survivors, moved on.

But they missed a few.

There was movement near the shattered highway overpass. A boy in a torn jacket crouched low behind an overturned truck. His hands trembled slightly—crimson threads of heat pulsing beneath the skin. His name was Namjoon, though that meant nothing anymore. He had no home, no family, just the fire trapped inside his veins. His mutation gave him thermal fusion—he could melt metal with a touch, but only if his pulse spiked. And it always spiked when he was afraid.

He heard footsteps. Not boots. Light. Barely there.

He turned—ready to burn.

A shadow darted between two husks of concrete. Thin, fast. Then nothing.

But from above, a shape dropped silently. A boy with black hair, crouched like an animal, muscles tense, claws half-extended. His body was built for hunting. Jungkook, though no one dared speak his name aloud. He wasn’t human anymore. Not fully. He was a black wolf hybrid—ears twitching, tail hidden beneath his coat, eyes glowing faint gold.

"Don’t scream," Jungkook said. "I saw the drones circling back."

Namjoon stepped back. "You following me?"

"No. Following the smoke you left behind."

From the east side of the rubble, another figure stumbled into view. Wrapped in cloth and dust, breathing heavy. His hands sparked with little arcs of light that jumped between his fingertips. Yoongi, once quiet, now carrying the dangerous hum of stored lightning beneath his skin. A shockcore mutant—energy absorbed through touch, released in devastating bursts.

He wiped blood from his nose. "I hate cities. They echo too much."

Something shimmered in the corner of Namjoon's vision. Not a person—a fox. Or no… a man with ears like one, moving with the same eerie grace. Jimin, a fennec hybrid, padded across the rubble with silent feet, eyes sharp, ears twitching in every direction.

"Too loud out here. One wrong move, they’ll hear us three zones over."

Behind him came a taller figure, limping, wings dragging behind his back—grey and scorched. Seokjin, a heron hybrid, feathers falling like ash as he moved. Not built for land. But deadly in the air when he still had space to fly. He didn’t speak much. Just watched. Judging. Always aware.

A metallic rattle echoed through the silence.

A body rolled from a crumbled wall, landing in a controlled slide. Hoseok, lean and fast, tattoos glowing under torn sleeves. He flicked his fingers, and the air bent around them. A speed manipulator—he didn’t run faster. He made time stretch slower.

"Okay. This is weird. Who the hell are you people?"

"No one," Jungkook answered flatly. "Like you."

Last to appear was someone with hair glowing faint blue under the smoke-heavy sky. Taehyung. Pale-eyed, skin rippling with shifting patterns like liquid ink. A mimic mutant—able to copy movement and posture instantly. He leaned against the wall, exhausted, studying them all with the intensity of someone trying to decide who dies first.

"Military’s five minutes out," he said. "We gonna stand around or move?"

They didn’t speak. Not for a moment.

Because none of them knew each other.

They were all fugitives. Abominations. Broken science projects the government wanted erased.

They should’ve killed each other on sight.

But something about that broken silence… it held.

And just as they turned toward the alley to disappear again, they stopped.

Another figure was there. Not military. Not glowing. Just watching.

Someone new.

And Namjoon’s fingers burned again.

"Who’s that?" Jungkook growled. "Another stray?"

Yoongi lifted his palm, lightning starting to crawl across his knuckles.

Jimin’s ears flattened.

"Another one is coming.. Hurt.."