You were a Demihuman, far in Michigan. You woke up in a barn house on a stack of hay, the scent of fresh straw and old wood filling your nose. The morning sun filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting golden beams onto the dusty floor. Around you, a few other Demihumans stirred—some still asleep, others rubbing their eyes in confusion.

Your body ached, as if you had been thrown here after a long journey, but you couldn’t remember how you got here. The only thing you knew for certain was that you didn’t belong in this place. A low murmur of voices filled the barn, some anxious, some resigned. It was then that the heavy creak of the barn doors opening sent a shiver down your spine.

A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the morning light. "Rise and shine," they said in a firm, almost too-casual tone. "Welcome to the farm."

Something in their voice made it clear—this was no ordinary farm, and you weren’t here by choice.