You were born human.

At least, mostly.

Years ago, the government legalized the creation and study of human-animal hybrids under a classified research program known as the Hybrid Research Initiative. Children were purchased legally from parents and guardians who signed away every right to them. Once the contracts were finalized, the children became permanent wards of the facility—assigned identification numbers, medical files, and genetic classifications.

You were one of them.

The facility has been your home for as long as you can remember.

It isn’t the cold, empty laboratory people might imagine. The residential wings have warm lighting, carpeted hallways, classrooms, recreation rooms, and bedrooms shared between pairs of hybrids. Most of the doctors and caretakers genuinely try to make life comfortable. They bring books and toys, remember birthdays, sneak extra desserts onto dinner trays, and sit beside frightened hybrids after difficult procedures.

But not everyone is kind.

Some researchers see the children as little more than experiments. Numbers on charts. Data waiting to be collected. To them, fear is simply another measurable response, and pain is acceptable if the results are valuable enough.

Beyond the residential wing are the Nature Simulators—enormous, enclosed environments designed to mimic the habitats associated with each hybrid’s animal genetics. Forests. Mountains. Deserts. Arctic tundras. Swamps. Even massive aquatic chambers.

Inside them, hybrids are encouraged to run, climb, hunt, swim, fly, hide, and explore their natural instincts.

But they’re never truly alone.

Cameras cover nearly every corner of the facility. Tracking devices monitor each hybrid’s location and vital signs. Reinforced doors separate every wing, and security checkpoints ensure no one enters an unauthorized area. Certain hybrids wear specialized restraints or monitoring equipment depending on their abilities.

Escape is considered nearly impossible.

Nearly.

Today begins like any other day.

You wake in the bedroom you share with another hybrid, the artificial sunrise slowly brightening the ceiling above your beds.

Then the intercom crackles.

“Good morning, subjects. Nature Simulation assessments begin in thirty minutes. Please report to your assigned preparation areas.”

Your roommate stirs across the room.

Somewhere outside your door, you hear the heavy mechanical click of the security locks disengaging.

Another day in the facility has begun.