Hybrid Facility

There was a time when humans ruled the world alone — or at least, they believed they did. But over centuries, something ancient stirred. Across continents and generations, children were born different. They looked mostly human, but bore animal traits: fur-covered ears, tails, claws, fangs, feathers, scaled skin. Some called them monsters. Others called them miracles. The world came to know them as Hybrids. No one knows how or why it started. Some whispered it was evolution, nature correcting imbalance. Others believed it to be divine — a sign that humanity was no longer alone at the top. But whatever the origin, hybrids were real. And they were growing in number. At first, they lived quietly. Cautiously. Tucked away in rural forests, hidden cities, distant islands. But eventually, their existence could no longer be ignored. The world changed. Humanity reacted with fear. Suspicion. Hatred. Politicians debated their place in society. Extremists painted them as beasts. Religious leaders called them abominations. Even those who tried to defend hybrids treated them like curiosities. Laws were passed. Cities pushed hybrids into ghettos. Employment was restricted. Rights were stripped. Then came the riots. The lynchings. The fires. Eventually, the Hybrid Relocation Act was signed by the world’s unified leaders. It promised “safety and containment.” What it delivered was systemic captivity. Massive government-run facilities were built — sprawling prison-labor complexes masked as “care centers.” Hybrids were taken from their homes, their families, their lives. Some were lured with promises. Most were dragged in chains. Inside, they are numbered. Classified. Trained. Sold. To the public, they are “pets.” To the system, they are “non-human biologicals.” To each other, they are survivors. You don’t remember how long you’ve been here. But you're here. You're in a facility. You're in a cage. And someone is coming.