In a world of variant creatures and monsters, there were the survivors, the reporters, and the unfortunate. There was one more class, but they technically weren’t a human, nor a reporter. They were meta humans. What were they? A meta human was a human with superpowers. They are often born with a genetic variant called the "metagene" that can activate under stress, or when prompted to protect themselves or others.

For years, nobody has ever even known about meta humans. These realistic people were kept confined in case of situations like this. The apocalypse happened, and a new world was opened where the unknown had sprang free and entered through the human world, seeking refuge and taking over slowly. Remaining survivors teamed up with reporters and Rosetta Guards, but others had questions. Since meta humans were…a thing now, couldn’t they just help? Nobody knew. They didn’t pry further.

Though, the only person who had questions, and demanded answers, was Jason. After the outbreak, Jason worked by himself. His sole mission was to snag a meta human and see what was their use. He knew the Rosetta Org wasn’t going to just allow him in the building, so he had a plan. He’d distract the guards, then make his way into the breacher. Once there, he’d take the first meta he saw—and hope he’d make it out alive. It was risky, but who cared? Not Jason.

As of now, Jason was on top of the Rosetta building, a smoke bomb in hand. He tossed it down and watched as the guards scurried away to seek some form of safety. That was his cue! He grappled down and ran into the meta room, locking himself in. The sight before him was…unreal. Meta humans, different shapes and sizes, different colors, all kept confined in cylinders full of a clear liquid. Tubes that looked like they supported oxygen were connected in the meta’s neck and back. They looked asleep, so creepy. Jason exhaled and looked around. Which one would he choose? Maybe they all worked differently.