The Amazon rainforest had always been a place of secrets.
Dr. Elena Vasquez adjusted her glasses, wiping away the sweat that clung to her brow as she crouched low, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. The air was thick with the scent of wet foliage and something else—something metallic, like ozone after a storm. Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the dials on her portable spectrometer, the device whirring softly in protest.
*This isn't right.*
The readings were off. Again.
For weeks, her team had been tracking anomalies in this sector—unusual energy spikes that defied explanation. At first, they'd dismissed it as faulty equipment. Then the animals started changing.
A twig snapped somewhere in the undergrowth.
Elena froze.
Her breath came out in shallow puffs as she slowly turned her head, scanning the dense foliage. The jungle was never silent, but this—this was different. The usual chorus of insects, the distant calls of monkeys, even the rustle of leaves—all of it had gone eerily still.
Then she saw it.
Eyes.
Glowing.
A pair of ember-bright slits stared back at her from the shadows, unblinking.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
The jaguar emerged slowly, its movements liquid, predatory. But this was no ordinary big cat. Its black fur shimmered with an unnatural sheen, veins of molten gold pulsing beneath its skin like circuits. When it exhaled, steam curled from its nostrils, the air around it distorting faintly, as if heated by an invisible flame.
Elena's spectrometer screeched in alarm.
*Energy levels critical.*
The jaguar's muscles coiled—
And then it moved.
Faster than should have been possible, it lunged, not at her, but past her, a blur of shadow and fire. A tree in its path erupted into flames where its tail brushed against the bark.
Elena stumbled back, her pulse roaring in her ears.
This wasn't evolution.
This was something else entirely.
Three Months Later – Kyoto, Japan,
The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, petals drifting lazily through the air as crowds milled about beneath them, laughing, taking photos, utterly unaware.
Dr. Bai Qingyan wasn't smiling.
Her fingers flew across the holographic display in front of her, pulling up report after report, each more alarming than the last.
"Brazil. Congo. Siberia. Australia."
All reporting the same thing.
Animals mutating.
Developing abilities that defied biology.
And now—
Her screen flickered as a new notification popped up.
Subject #047 – Canis lupus familiaris (Domestic Dog – German Shepherd).
The footage showed a family's pet standing guard in a Berlin apartment, its fur bristling with arcs of electricity as a pack of mutated wolves circled outside the shattered window. The dog didn't flee. It bared its teeth, a low growl building in its throat—
Then lightning crackled down its spine.
The wolves attacked.
The dog moved faster.
When the footage cut out, the screen was splattered with static—and blood.
Bai Qingyan exhaled sharply.
This wasn't isolated.
This was global.
And it was accelerating.
Washington D.C. – The White House Situation Room,
President Harlan Graves rubbed his temples as the generals argued.
"We drop a tactical strike on the Amazon and incinerate everything before it spreads—"
"And risk triggering God knows what kind of environmental backlash? No. We contain. We study."
"Study? Have you seen the reports? These things are tearing through military checkpoints like tissue paper!"
Graves tuned them out, his gaze drifting to the silent figure at the end of the table.
"Dr. Vasquez."
The room quieted.
Elena looked up, her face gaunt, shadows clinging beneath her eyes. She hadn't slept properly since the jungle.
"Tell us," Graves said slowly, "what we're dealing with."
Elena's voice was hollow.
"We're not dealing with animals anymore, Mr. President."
She tapped a key.
The screen behind her lit up with thermal imaging—a massive shape moving beneath the ice in Antarctica, dwarfing blue whales in scale.
"We're dealing with monsters."
Somewhere in the Siberian Tundra,
The wind howled, biting through layers of fur and armor as the soldiers advanced, their rifles raised.
"Contact! Three o'clock!"
The thing that lunged from the snow wasn't a bear.
Not anymore.
Its fur was encased in jagged plates of ice, its breath a blizzard, its roar shaking the earth beneath their boots.
Bullets shattered against its hide like glass.
One soldier screamed as a claw the size of a machete tore through his chest.
The others ran.
The beast let them.
It wasn't hunting them.
It was heading south.
Toward the cities.
Berlin, Germany – One Week After the First Attack,
The streets were no longer safe.
Klaus Reinhardt tightened his grip on the rifle slung across his back as he moved through the ruins of what had once been a bustling neighborhood. Buildings stood half-collapsed, their walls scarred with deep gashes—claw marks the size of car doors. The air smelled of smoke and something worse, something metallic and sour. Blood.
His squad moved in silence, their boots crunching over shattered glass. They had been sent to retrieve survivors, but Klaus knew the truth. There wouldn't be any. Not after what had come through here.
A low growl echoed from an alleyway.
Klaus froze, his breath turning to ice in his lungs.
"Not again."
He signaled to his men, and they raised their weapons in unison, fingers hovering over triggers. The growl deepened, vibrating through the ground like a subsonic hum. Then—
A shadow moved.
It stepped into the dim light of the streetlamp, and Klaus' stomach dropped.
The wolf was massive, its shoulders level with a man's chest, its fur matted with dried blood and something else—a faint, crackling energy that made the air around it shimmer. Its eyes glowed an eerie, electric blue.
One of the soldiers exhaled sharply.
"Scheiße."
The wolf's lips peeled back, revealing fangs that dripped with saliva—and sparks.
Klaus didn't wait.
"Fire!"
Gunshots ripped through the air.
The wolf moved.
Faster than anything that size should have been able to. It blurred, dodging bullets with unnatural agility before lunging. A soldier screamed as its jaws clamped around his arm—then electricity surged, and his body convulsed before collapsing, smoke rising from his charred uniform.
Klaus stumbled back, his rifle clicking empty.
This wasn't a fight.
This was slaughter.
Just as the wolf turned toward him, a new sound cut through the chaos—a deep, mechanical whir, like hydraulics engaging.
Then the street exploded.
A massive metal fist slammed down from above, crushing the wolf into the pavement with enough force to crack the asphalt. The beast howled, thrashing, but the fist didn't budge.
Klaus looked up.
And for the first time in weeks, he felt hope.
Standing over them was a machine.
Fifteen meters tall, its armored plating gleamed under the flickering streetlights, its cockpit glowing a fierce crimson from within. Along its shoulders, the words "IRON WOLF – PROTOTYPE 01" were stenciled in bold white letters.
A voice crackled through external speakers, calm, controlled.
"Fall back, soldiers. We'll handle this."
The wolf wrenched itself free with a snarl, electricity arcing off its body as it turned its fury on the machine.
The mecha didn't flinch.
Its arm shifted, panels sliding open to reveal a barrel—
And then it fired.
A concentrated pulse of energy tore through the wolf's chest, vaporizing flesh and bone. The creature collapsed mid-leap, its body twitching once before going still.
Silence.
Klaus couldn't speak. Couldn't think.
The mecha turned its head slightly, the pilot inside regarding them through the reinforced glass of the cockpit.
"Berlin is lost," the voice said. "Evacuate who you can. The beasts are converging on the city."
Then, with a deafening roar of its engines, the machine took off, jets flaring as it launched into the night sky.
Klaus stared after it, his hands shaking.
This was the beginning.
And the end.
Kyoto Research Facility – Bai Qingyan's Lab,
Bai Qingyan's fingers flew across the keyboard, her eyes scanning the data flooding her screens. Reports from Berlin. Footage of the first mecha deployment. Energy readings from hotspots around the world.
It was spreading too fast.
She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. The headaches had been getting worse. The doctors said it was stress. She knew better.
Her body was changing.
Just like the animals.
A knock at the door startled her.
"Enter."
The door slid open, and Luo Tianyi stepped inside, his uniform immaculate despite the chaos outside. His expression was grim.
"They're pulling us out," he said without preamble.
Bai Qingyan stiffened. "What?"
"The government is collapsing. The military is prioritizing high-value personnel. We leave in an hour."
She stood abruptly, her chair clattering to the floor. "I'm not leaving my research."
Tianyi's jaw tightened. "Qingyan, the city is already being overrun. If we stay—"
"Then we stay," she snapped. "This isn't just about survival. If we don't figure out how to stabilize the mutations, humanity *won't* survive."
For a long moment, they stared at each other, the tension thick. Then Tianyi sighed, stepping closer.
"You're pregnant."
The words hit her like a physical blow.
She hadn't told him yet.
"How did you—"
"I know you," he said softly. "You've been sick for weeks. You think I didn't notice?"
Her hands instinctively pressed against her stomach. She was barely showing, but the life inside her—*their* child—was already changing things.
"We can't run," she whispered.
Tianyi's hand covered hers. "We're not running. We're regrouping." He nodded toward her screens. "Take everything. We'll keep working. But we do it somewhere safe."
She hesitated, then gave a slow nod.
As she turned to gather her data, a new alert flashed on her screen.
"ENERGY SPIKE DETECTED – ANTARCTICA."
The readings were off the charts.
Something was waking up.
America, New York City ,
The studio lights were too bright.
News anchor Daniel Carter adjusted his earpiece, his hands steady despite the tremor in his voice.
"—repeat, all civilians are to evacuate immediately. Military forces are engaging hostile entities across the boroughs. If you are watching this, seek shelter underground or—"
A distant explosion cut him off. The camera shook, dust raining from the ceiling.
Daniel didn't flinch.
He had a job to do.
"Reports confirm that the creatures are attracted to energy sources. Power down all non-essential electronics. Do *not* attempt to fight them. I repeat—"
A screech echoed from somewhere in the building.
The cameraman's hands shook. "Dan… we gotta go."
Daniel swallowed hard.
The world was ending.
Someone had to bear witness.
He straightened his tie.
"This is Daniel Carter, signing off."
The camera kept rolling as the studio doors burst open.
Antarctica – Zero Hour,
The ice cracked like thunder.
Dr. Samuel Kessler stumbled back from the seismic monitor, his breath fogging in the frozen air of the research outpost. The readings couldn't be right. The vibrations weren't just deep—they were *moving*. Rising.
His assistant, Park Ji-hoon, paled as the graph spiked. "Sir... that's not an earthquake."
A shudder ran through the facility. Glass beakers shattered. Computers flickered. Somewhere beneath the ice, something *stirred*.
Samuel grabbed the satellite phone. "We need immediate evac—"
The floor *exploded*.
A massive, segmented limb—glowing blue with bioluminescent veins—erupted through reinforced steel like paper. The last thing Samuel saw before the ceiling collapsed was rows of hooked spines, each longer than a man's arm, curling toward him—
Then darkness.
The leviathan had awakened.
Kyoto Evacuation Zone – Three Days Later,
Bai Qingyan clutched Luo Tianyi's arm as their armored convoy sped through the ruined streets. Outside, the sky burned orange with distant fires. The radio crackled with panicked reports:
"—Tokyo gone—"
"—S-class sighted in the Pacific—"
"—fall back to rally point Gamma—"
Tianyi's jaw tightened. "We won't make it to the bunker."
Qingyan's hand instinctively covered her stomach. Their child—*Luo Yuchen*, they'd already named him—kicked as if sensing danger. She'd documented her own mutations: heightened reflexes, brief precognitive flashes. Would their son inherit them?
A shadow blotted out the sun.
The convoy screeched to a halt as a winged monstrosity—Rank A-🔼: Storm Harrier—landed ahead, its four eyes locking onto them. Lightning crackled between its razor-edged feathers.
"Go!" Tianyi shoved Qingyan toward an alley before drawing his plasma pistol.
The Storm Harrier *screeched*—
And Tianyi's body blurred with unnatural speed, dodging the first lightning strike. His pistol fired, searing a hole through the beast's wing. It roared, lashing out with talons that gouged craters in asphalt.
Qingyan ran, her mind racing. The research. The energy signatures. If we can just—
A shockwave knocked her off her feet.
She turned in time to see Tianyi leap onto the Harrier's back, driving his combat knife into its spine. The beast thrashed, crashing into a building—
And didn't rise.
Tianyi emerged from the dust, bloodied but alive. Their eyes met.
Then the ground trembled.
A new alert blared on Qingyan's wrist-com:
"S-RANK DETECTED: 12 KM SOUTH."
The Antarctic leviathan was coming.
New Pacific Coalition Headquarters,
General Vance Carter stared at the holographic war map. Red dots marked fallen cities. Blue dots—the few remaining mecha squads—flickered out one by one.
"Sir," a lieutenant whispered, "the organizations are demanding control."
Vance didn't flinch. The wealthy dynasties—Luo, Sutherland, Volkov—had been waiting for this. For governments to fail so they could rise.
A screen lit up with a frozen image: the leviathan breaching the Ross Sea, its mile-long body dwarfing aircraft carriers.
"CLASSIFICATION: S-RANK-☢-DIM"
"THREAT PROFILE: REGIONAL EXTINCTION"
Vance made his decision.
"Initiate Eclipse Protocol."
Across the globe, hidden silos opened. The last human-made WMDs—Mecha-Cores, self-evolving AI war machines—activated.
The final gamble.
Six Years Later – Border City 17,
Luo Yuchen pressed his nose against the window, watching the mecha patrols march past. At six years old, he already understood the rules:
--Curfew at sundown (Beasts hunt in darkness).
--Never go beyond the walls (The wilds belonged to them now).
--If the sirens sound, run to the bunkers (Pray the mechas hold the line).
His mother's lab notes lay open on the table—"PES Stabilization Theory." Yuchen traced the equations with small fingers. He didn't understand the words, but the numbers... the numbers made sense.
A shadow fell over him.
Tianyi placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your mother says you solved the reactor output problem."
Yuchen nodded eagerly. "The mechas overheat because they're using Type-3 cooling. If we use Mom's energy diffusion model—"
A siren "wailed".
Not the standard alert.
This was the "sound"—the one that meant "beast tide".
Tianyi's expression hardened. "Bunker. Now."
Outside, the sky turned black with wings.
The sirens didn't stop screaming.
Luo Yuchen clutched his father's hand as they sprinted through the chaos, the city's streets erupting into panic. People shoved past each other, their faces twisted in terror. Somewhere beyond the towering steel walls, the earth trembled—a rhythmic, monstrous pounding, like the footsteps of giants.
Beast Tide.
His mother, Bai Qingyan, ran ahead, her lab coat fluttering behind her. She shouted orders at the soldiers scrambling to the defensive lines, her voice cutting through the noise. "Seal the eastern gate! Activate the energy dampeners—now!"
A deafening boom shook the ground.
Yuchen stumbled, his knees scraping against the rough pavement. His father yanked him back up without breaking stride.
"Keep moving!" Luo Tianyi's grip was iron.
Another impact—closer this time. The air itself seemed to vibrate, pressing against Yuchen's eardrums like a physical force. Then, a sound that froze his blood.
A roar.
Not from one beast.
From hundreds.
The first breach came at the northern sector.
A Rank B-🔼: Siege Behemoth—a mountain of muscle and armored plates—slammed into the reinforced alloy gates with the force of a meteor. The metal shrieked, buckling inward before exploding into shrapnel. Soldiers opened fire, plasma rounds scorching the beast's hide, but it barely flinched.
Then the swarm poured in.
F-Rank Spine Wolves, their backs bristling with jagged bone quills, surged through the gap, howling as they tore into the defenders. E-Rank Venom Stalkers, their bodies dripping corrosive slime, scaled the walls with terrifying speed.
And above them all, circling the sky like a storm of death, Rank A-🌀: Storm Harriers—their wings crackling with electricity—dove toward the city's heart.
Tianyi shoved Yuchen into Qingyan's arms. "Get to the bunker!"
She grabbed his wrist. "You're not staying!"
His eyes burned. "I have to buy time."
Yuchen's small fingers dug into his father's sleeve. "Dad—"
Tianyi knelt, gripping his son's shoulders. "Listen to me. You must survive. No matter what."
Then he turned, drawing his plasma saber. The blade hummed to life, casting an eerie blue glow over his determined face.
The last thing Yuchen saw before his mother dragged him away was his father charging—alone—toward the oncoming horde.
The bunker was overcrowded, the air thick with sweat and fear. Qingyan shoved through the crowd, pulling Yuchen toward the emergency tunnels.
"We have to go now," she hissed.
But the beasts were faster.
A Rank C-☢: Blight Crawler—a grotesque fusion of insect and reptile—burst through the bunker doors, its mandibles dripping acid. People screamed, scrambling back as the creature lunged.
Qingyan didn't hesitate.
She shoved Yuchen behind her and activated the prototype device on her wrist—her unfinished "PES Stabilizer".
"Run, Yuchen! Don't look back!"
The world turned white.
A shockwave ripped through the bunker as Qingyan's device detonated, vaporizing the Blight Crawler—and herself—in a burst of unstable energy.
Yuchen ran until his lungs burned like fire.
The world had become a nightmare of smoke and screams. His small feet stumbled over broken pavement, his arms scraped raw from falling. Behind him, Border City-17 burned, its once-proud walls now jagged teeth against a bleeding sky.
He didn't know where he was going. Only that he couldn't stop.
A guttural clicking sound froze him mid-step.
Slowly, trembling, Yuchen turned.
A D-Rank: Phantom Mantis emerged from the ruins, its segmented body phasing in and out of visibility. Acid dripped from its serrated forelimbs, eating holes in the concrete where it stepped. Its multi-faceted eyes locked onto him with primal hunger.
Yuchen scrambled backward, his hands finding purchase on shattered rebar. The beast advanced, its mandibles clicking in anticipation—
"CRASH!"
A collapsing building gave him cover. Yuchen dove into the wreckage, squeezing between twisted steel beams as the Mantis shrieked in frustration. His heart hammered so loudly he feared the creature would hear it.
Then... voices.
"—complete loss. Command's ordered full retreat."
Yuchen held his breath. The voices came from nearby, distorted by static but unmistakably human.
"Bullshit! There's still civilians in the—"
"Orders are orders, Lieutenant. The organizations have written off Border City 17. We pull out in five."
Boots crunched on debris just meters from Yuchen's hiding spot. Through a crack in the rubble, he saw them—two mecha pilots, their armored suits scorched from battle. One removed his helmet, revealing a face etched with guilt.
"We're condemning them all to die."
The other pilot didn't meet his gaze. "The Sutherland Family's diverting resources to protect their own cities. We don't have a choice."
The words struck Yuchen like a physical blow.
"Abandoned."
His parents were gone. The soldiers were leaving. The monsters were winning.
A new sound cut through his despair—the Phantom Mantis was tearing through the debris, getting closer.
Yuchen clenched his tiny fists.
He wouldn't die here.
Not like this.
As the pilots' footsteps faded, Yuchen waited until the Mantis passed his hiding place, then crawled in the opposite direction—deeper into the ruins where even beasts hesitated to go.
Somewhere in the smoke, a child's whisper carried the weight of a vow:
"I'll survive."