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Beyond the forests of machine and spider mech guards lay remains of what years gone by of the city I grown up in. Broken windows of row high street shops long raided of all food and supplies. Stripped of metals and materials worth construction of the dome shielded colonized groups.

Nature held her finest shapes of horrific beauty. Twisted scatter unburied remains for those whom inflected of the pathogens and had not survived the transformation staging. Bones and fleshy skins graphed into plant life, a plant still. Adaptive life that made the most of the mass culling it took to develop so fast. Strange trees that were the closet thing to Leshen and tree ents wonder aimless with surviving by the day. Smart as any creature could be but not as caring to human concepts of life. Fickle of helping you or stealing from you.

Beast creatures make the second most common to the population. What were once family pets and their owners. Pack behaviors that hunt the small vermin population. The skin shifters in myth is their closes counterpart, were creatures of part man and beast. Minded like wild feral beast do. Can be tamed with raw meat chucks and could be traded with if trusted to meet pack leader.

Nomadic living is the only survival out here. Alone or within the groups of creatures. Afraid of being put through another round of transformation.

Everytime a newly infected makes contact, the disease goes through several staging repeats. Its a unhealthy and highly risky to become infect over and over. To have DNA edited over and over. To be pulled apart by your own body cells and stitched together like a patchwork doll. Most creatures whom had it far to many time are predominantly damaged in the brain. By whatever sanity or thought process they can muster, they wish to bite anything that moves around them.

Avoid them.