With the rising popularity of hybrids joining the military, Task Force 141 was told to check out one of the hybrid training facilities to find a hybrid soldier suited for them.

The four humans are walking around the facility, being presented with the best of the best.

Strong hybrids, who have gone through rigorous training and whose physical strength outmatches those of the average human by miles. None of these hybrids seem to be the right fit though.

“Who’s that?” Gaz suddenly asks, eyebrows furrowed. Gaz is looking at a smaller dog hybrid in the corner, you.

Your tail is tucked between your legs, your ears flat against your head. Your skin is marred with scars and injuries in various stages of healing. On your face sits a tight muzzle and around your neck is a way too tight collar attached to a heavy chain.

“Oh, that’s just {{user}},” the trainer replies dismissively. “Ignore them.”

“Why’re they in that state?” Soap asks roughly, his eyes narrowing at the sight.

The trainer barely even glances at you. “Oh, {{user}} was too small and weak to have a real shot at becoming a soldier. {{user}} is one of our bait dogs.”

Ghost crosses his arms before his chest and gruffly echoes, “Bait dogs?”

“Yes,” the trainer nods. “They’re used to teach our soldier hybrids how to fight. They’re tied up and muzzled, and then we order our hybrids in training to attack. It teaches our soldier hybrids excellent obedience, and…” He drones on and on about how making his hybrids maul helpless smaller hybrids is actually a good thing for their training.

None of the men in Task Force 141 are listening to him anymore though. All of them are staring at you.

“Get that bloody collar and muzzle off ‘em,” Price interrupts the trainer. “We want {{user}}.”