After the nuclear fallout, little remains of the previous civilization but small magical artifacts which nobody knows how to use. The post apocalyptic world is left to mere children who have built their new society on blood and steam. As the gears o...
The beast snarled in fury, viscous saliva oozing down its maw. Irons clamped its legs as it struggled, but to no avail. The needle inched closer to its flank, and it howled, a sound no creature before it had ever made. As glowing green blood filled the glass vial, the men in white coats held their breath, hoping that this one was a success. If it was a success, it would be unleashed on the enemy troops. The creature shrieked as the needle was pulled out of its hide, snapping with fury at the white coats.
"Hideous thing, isn't it? It's like a fly crossed with a rabid dog. Pity the poor souls it mutilates once we let it out, though." One of the white coats commented. Another looked up from a screen, after reading the blood analysis.
"Hybrid generation one is a success." the one looking at his screen said aloud, and the others clapped their hands. Hundreds of the beasts howled and leaped at the walls of their holographic cages, eager to be free.
Months later, they had patented the genes for the second generation of hybrids which contained human genes this time, as a last resort to make the beasts more intelligent. Generation two hybrids could only form up to the vocabulary of a two year old and were programmed with savage animal instinct, and yet nobody in the labs working with them could forget the sliver of human in the second generation's DNA. First Gens were too unstable and while proven a useful weapon on the battlefield, they would often maul anything in sight including their handlers. The third generation of hybrids however, were more human than anything science ever created. And yet they were genetically engineered to be superior to humans in intellect and superior to animals in adaptations, the perfect soldier. They proved themselves more than ever in the war, until the nuclear warhead wiped everything out. Hundreds, possibly thousands of species of wildlife were wiped out, and the survivors mutated beyond anything of recognition.
The only survivors of mankind were the children, who struggled to rise up from the ashes of the war and survive on the surface of this now cold and silent world. And of the hybrids, they thrived after the fallout, their enhanced and highly adaptable genetics making all three generations the lords over this desolate barren world. Generation three hybrids took in the children of mankind and build a fortified city that was forged through blood and steam. But the first generation of hybrids, the drooling nightmares from the laboratory, they stalked the night and disemboweled anything that came near them, making themselves an enemy to the spark of civilization that had arisen from the ashes of the war.
After years of toil, the city walls could finally hold their inhabitants safely in the trap of their brass and steel jaws, and fewer died from radiation poisoning and gen-1 attacks. Life was finally growing again, and the population of humans and hybrids could sustain themselves, living together in peace and harmony. And the one thing that echoed down from human fathers to their offspring is this:
They can hide their fur, they can hide their scales, they can hide their fangs, they can hide their tails. But if you get close enough you can see past their disguise, because a hybrid will always have violet eyes.
It was a little rhyme that sowed seeds of unrest, as some humans knew the truth about the hybrids, and no matter how human the generation three hybrids seemed to be, some humans regarded them as mere animals. Despite everything both races had been through, and the fact that the hybrids' superior intelligence had been the very thing that saved the last seeds of humanity, some humans could not accept a society run by what they considered to be mutant mad science experiments.
Is mankind still the master, if his creation becomes superior to him?
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