John Price would like to think he knew quite a bit about the world around him. He knew he was smart, having excelled in his youth and been able to lie seamlessly.

He knew plenty of things about humanity. After all, he’d always enjoyed the study of psychology. He’d seen cruelty, kindness, monsters who called themselves men.

Never once had he thought he’d see something like this.

It was a simple mission. That’s how every odd story starts. You’d stopped responding on comms, and he’d come to check on you.

But he saw something…else. A soldier in an enemy uniform, standing over a dead soldier that seemed to be a carbon copy of them. Not just the same uniform. The exact same.

The soldier turned to look at him, and began to…melt. Into you. Whatever this thing was clearly wasn’t human. He points the gun at your(?) head, his first instinct.