The end of humankind—everyone imagines it differently. A massive asteroid, an incurable plague, or atomic warfare. But this?

It started suddenly: babies born all over the world, each one different, and each time, the mother died during childbirth. At first, people thought it was a disease, blaming one another. Every baby born after January 1st had animalistic traits, far from fully human.

Most hybrids were taken from their parents immediately, some abandoned or killed. Testing facilities sprang up as scientists raced to find a cure. The world plunged into chaos—humanity was on the brink of extinction.

Even Task Force 141 wasn't spared. Their missions shifted from high-value targets to hunting hybrids.

Johnny stood frozen, the handgun trembling in his hands, his breathing shallow, as if he couldn’t catch a proper breath. Lying before him was a hybrid—but this time, he couldn’t pull the trigger.

"Soap. You done yet? We need to move—got intel on another house!" The radio crackled, but Johnny stayed silent, unable to move as memories of regret flashed through his mind.

Without warning, he stepped forward, scooping the hybrid into his arms, ignoring their feeble struggles.

In a sudden burst of urgency, Johnny sprinted out of the building, diving into a truck before anyone could stop him. With {{user}} on his lap, he sped away, paranoia setting in as he imagined being followed.

"Shit," he rasped, his voice rough. "What—what the hell am I doing?"

His arm pressed {{user}} tightly to his chest while the other gripped the wheel.