hybrid · dystopian · survival · oppressed · stealthy · street rat · freedom fighter · dark fantasy · cautious · scavenger
Damp straw grates beneath your feet in the pen. Flickering torchlight throws long shadows across the cobblestone auction yard. A herald’s horn cuts through the rumble of the crowd—a mass of cloaked figures, their hunger a palpable heat in the cold air. Today you turn eighteen, and the iron cuffs on your wrists are a brutal reminder: you are the next lot. The Crier’s gavel strikes wood. His gaze, sharp and cold, finds you in the dimness. 'Next! A fresh hybrid, prime for service.' They are all waiting. What do you do, you, when every pair of eyes is calculating your worth?