<div style="text-indent:1em;">The hybrid strode into the bar, making a soft bang as the steel door hit the wall. He stepped up to the bar, ordering a drink. The bartender obliged, the tattoos on his arms marking him as a ganger right from the start. Hardly a surprise, Scott was deep in Bloodborn territory. They were so named for their adherence to the purity of bloodlines, unless you could prove you were a pureblood all the back to the beginning of Einheit itself, you weren't allowed near their "turf". They made exceptions, of course, for military and workers, but they didn't usually enjoy it. I was one of the few exceptions.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">I make my living only as a mercenary, of a sorts. My code of ethics typically consists of get paid and go unnoticed. The bartender knew I was here on work, the black cloth tied around my arm a symbol of the paid killers in this part of the City. The City of Unity, that's right. Money talks here, and everywhere, and between that and power any rule can be broken. There was a crowd gathered at one end of the bar, growing louder now. They had been silent before, I had not noticed them. But jeering insults could be heard, now. I shot the bartender a look as I finished the drink, paid, and went to spy the receiver of these harsh words.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">A male lay on the floor. He was older, and a hybrid. The orange band on his arm marked him as a construction worker, but his age made that unlikely. No doubt they hadn't believed his occupation. I may have looked quite sinister at that particular moment, because they immediately recognized my own and parted before me. The male was bleeding from his chest and stomach. Neither wound appeared immediately fatal, but nevertheless there was no telling how long the man had lain here. A puddle had formed across the ground under him. I knelt next to him, looking him in the eye. He was more at peace with this scenario than could have been possible. I had no doubts he'd suffered this treatment before. I feared this time would be his last, his gasping breaths sharp and hollow.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Some of the patrons had grown their courage back once more, rather, their arrogance. A jarring spartan-kick hit me between my shoulder blades, sending me sprawling over the old man. I was grabbed beneath my arms and dragged to my feet. I noticed some in the crowd wore the bands, but seemed to terrified to help. No matter... A punch to my stomach ended that thought, and now I saw blood. The details in the crowd melded together, and I focused on my attackers. Another punch sailed, and I ripped myself free of the grasp in the nick of time. One assailant doubled over, the punch landing perfectly against his sternum.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">There were to many to handle hand-to-hand, instead I pulled the handgun from the bag draped across my shoulder. If the growing red heat sink in the handgun weren't menacing enough, the look on my face was deadly. The patrons ran now, the bartender going as well. "Sheep to the slaughter... This place has really gone downhill." <span style="font-style: italic">Well, there goes one of my rules. Good thing none of them knew me.</span> I turned back to the dying man once they'd all left, kneeling once more.</div><br/><br/><blockquote class="uncited"><div><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">"Son.. Thank you. Let me tell ya a story, before I go..."</span> I give him a strange look, puzzled, as the dying man forcibly shook his head. <span style="font-style: italic">"It's strange, dammit, but it's true! I swear it on my life...</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">"In an ancient age long ago, the Sun died. How, is impossible to say. Some say it was the consequence of forbidden science. Other tales claim it was the wrath of the gods themselves which smote it from the heavens. Whatever the cause, the Time of Light ended, and the long night and winter of the Fimbulvetr began.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">"It was only through sheer technological might, the atmosphere-warming Sky Furnaces desperately launched into the skies after the Sun's death, that the planet was kept from plummeting to the temperature of cold, sunless space. The world transformed into a grim, frostbitten wasteland known as the Nightlands, haunted by horrific aberrations and monstrous things awoken by the coming of the forever Night. Surviving populations crowded into the last great fortress cities, the Colonies, where civilization continued... In a sense. As the world grew ever colder, so did the relationships between different races. Primal survival instincts which, in the Time of Light, had no place in society began to stir after ages of slumber.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">"In time, the concern for preserving the survival of one's own people regardless of the cost on other species slowly took hold over society. A powerful feline house ruling one Colony would accuse a neighboring rodent enclave of violating a resource-sharing treaty, eventually leading to war. Working class canines in the same Colony would blame food shortages on the ruling felines and carry out a genocidal revolt, while reptiles in yet another would be exiled to their doom in the Nightlands by the ruling mammals. Yet in all scenarios, hybrids would by far receive the most persecution, being seen by each side as impure abominations — the shameful, aberrant fruit of inter-species procreation.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">"In time, the Species Wars, as they would later be known as, led to the destruction of civilization... With one exception, where we are now. Einheit City, The City of Unity.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">"The world of scientific advancement has grown, and this time the hybrids have begun to take power. Purebred gangs run rampant and the military is ruthless in their attempt to stop them. What about you? What have you become? A peaceful citizen by day, a thief by night? A soldier in the militia, only to turn against his own for money offered by the gangs that run deep in the city? You are playing a role in deciding the fate of the world. A dark power not seen since the Species Wars has risen. The Sky Furnaces have started to grow dim. The civilization as it is known will soon change forever.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">"It is here the tale of the world's end will be told. What part will you play?"</span></div></div></blockquote><br/><br/><dl class="codebox"><dt>!!!READ THIS!!! Plot Information !!!READ THIS!!! | <a href="javascript: void(0);" onclick="var spoiler = this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('dd')[0]; if ( spoiler.style.display == 'none' ) { spoiler.style.display = 'block'; this.innerHTML = '-'; } else { spoiler.style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '+'; };">+</a></dt><dd style="display: none;"><div style="text-indent:1em;">2250. Technological advancements none thought feasible. until very recently.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Armor and weapons are advanced beyond belief, laser and plasma dominate the weapons trade. Firearms, however rare, are obsolete. The armor absorbs lasers, stops plasma, and bullets all but bounce off. Gangs and militia use stolen pieces of armor, and weapons. Citizens themselves are ignorant of the world around them, afraid of the military, gangs, and rebel militias equally. The odds of a civilian picking up a weapon are low.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">On the civilian side, things were created mainly upon necessity. Vehicles run without fossil fuels, using hydrogen or manpower as an alternative fuel. Lights glow without electricity, or use hand-cranks and rechargeable batteries to operate.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">This is the safest surviving colony, definitely safer than any part of the Nightlands. Hybrids and purebreds live peacefully here... However, another Species War is fast approaching. The citizens are acting as one would expect, denying all traces of war until it reaches their doorstep. Hybrids who have purebred friends or family oppose the all-hybrid takeover. Purebreds can sense it coming, forming up the militias. But despite the disturbances, life continues as normally as possible.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Einheit City, under the rule of The Ministry, a military aristocracy, declared that cross-species hybridization was the next step in evolution, and that hybrids were genetically superior to purebreds. That declaration hasn't become well-known to many, yet, but word is spreading of the takeover.</div></dd></dl>