The sky has turned the wrong color again. Decades after the Great Unraveling swallowed humanity whole, the world belongs to hybrids — evolved, adapted, alive. You've carved out your place in your biome, learned its rhythms, earned its trust. But the weather is shifting in ways that feel less like a season and more like a warning. As the storm front builds at the edge of your territory, three figures converge on your shelter — a road-worn trader with a pack full of rare goods, an elder carrying knowledge that could reframe everything, and a rival whose home biome is no longer home. The storm doesn't care about alliances. Neither does survival.