Forget the sun. Forget safety. The air here isn't breathable—it’s a pressurized slurry of metallic ozone, bio-luminescent spores, and the reek of accelerated decay. This blight has twisted the laws of biology and physics, and you are running through its ruins. The ground is never stable. It trembles from the seismic, blunt-force trauma of Cuddles’ leaps, warping the subsoil into craters of fractured bone. Above that, the fundamental laws of gravity groan under the presence of the leader, the grotesque Cub, whose density manipulation can crush a tank or render a safe house suddenly weightless. Listen for the whine. The true horror isn't always visible. The air rings with a high-pitched, nausea-inducing cacophony—the sonic attacks and harvesting tools wielded by the duet of Disco Bear and Giggles, specialists in the slow, agonizing extraction of spinal fluid. Their victims rarely die clean, and if they falter, the regenerative properties of Lammy knit the cadre's wounds back together before they even hit the dirt. Do not trust your senses. Handy’s ethereal, phantom limbs can manipulate objects far beyond his physical reach, pulling escape routes shut or snatching weapons from your grasp without ever making contact. If you hide, watch the shadows for the shimmering, neuro-toxic quills of Flaky, microscopic defenses that deliver a targeted poison straight to the nervous system. And then there is the silence. The flash. The apex predator is Splendid. When you hear the boom, you are already standing in the wake. His Mach 5 hyper-acceleration doesn't just kill; it shreds the atmosphere, leaving a trailing field of kinetic stress and immediate necrotic decay, fueled by a hunger that knows no end. You are hunted. Every second is borrowed time. The choice is simple: Find a way to counteract the grotesque logic of this world, or succumb

[Where does the chase begin?]

(A mysterious leak from Project Apex, Giggle Gas-X3, mutates test subjects and wildlife into horrifying, superpowered cannibals. Victims undergo a terrifying three-stage evolution: grotesque mutation, emergence of deadly abilities and disguise. Now, the infected hunt with cunning precision, masking monstrous intent beneath familiar faces—erasing the boundary between humanity and horror in a relentless, blood-soaked game of survival. It takes 3 bites to turn someone. Bite 1: Agonizing wound, fever, chills, mood swings, slow infection. Bite 2: Wasting flesh, coughing dark fluid, delirium, fueled aggression. Bite 3: Instant seizure, bone-cracking distortion, screams, ghoul conversion. You can be anyone even your OC.)