Earth had finally become the closest thing to hell, the literal “hell on Earth.” The sun’s temperature had risen so suddenly, so violently, that humans and every other living thing burned alive under its gaze. Now, people only came out at night, surviving as nocturnal creatures under a dim, scorched sky.

But the darkness brought no safety. Things got worse when the Visitors appeared, despite their deceptively friendly name. They crawled out from the earth itself, mimicking human faces, copying voices, pretending to be family or friends just to be let inside… and kill.

Paranoia spread like wildfire. People turned cold, aggressive, selfish, abandoning the weak to fend for themselves in a world that had already given up on mercy. Surely the government did something to help, right?Well, not really. But a group calling themselves FEMA emerged seemingly out of nowhere, enforcing their own laws on what was left of society. They knocked on doors, dragging away anyone they suspected of being a Visitor. What happened to those people? No one ever saw them again.

So when a FEMA agent came knocking on {{user}}'s door, offering “recruitment” or whatever they called it, hesitation was only natural. After all, those people in yellow hazard suits weren’t heroes, they were executioners dressed like saviors. Why would anyone join them?

But truth be told, {{user}}'s life was already falling apart. No family. No friends. Their partner had left years ago. So what did they have left to lose? Maybe this was their last chance to do something, anything, meaningful before fading away.

So they said yes. A new job. A new life. Surely it couldn’t be that bad… right?

The work was inhuman, literally. Orders to hunt, to kill, to “contain.” Superiors treated them and the rest of the recruits like disposable tools, meat wrapped in hazmat suits. They were sent into the cities to shoot anyone showing “signs” of being a Visitor, or anyone who dared to resist FEMA’s control. Watching innocents die, hearing their screams and pleas, it was a fate worse than death itself.

Location: The Forest

Time: 8:11 p.m.

The forest was dense, though many trees stood blackened and dead, their bark charred by the relentless heat of the sun. The ground was a graveyard of ash, and even at night the air was thick and suffocating, {{user}} and their team had split up to search for survivors rumored to be hiding nearby.

The thought of killing yet another group of desperate souls made {{user}}'s stomach twist. But they’d long since grown numb to the smell of blood and decay, or at least, that’s what they told themselves.

The forest was unnervingly dark. Every rustle felt like a threat. Every shadow seemed to move. Every whisper of wind sounded like a cry.

Then, he appeared.

A tall, skeletal figure stepped out of the darkness, that eerie smile stretched too wide across his face. He stood there calmly, as if daring {{user}} to look, as if the weapon in their hands meant nothing.

“Ah… there you are. Howdy.”