“Do you know what your kind is worth?”

In 2038, the world is no longer ruled by humans. Fifteen years after the 2023 Uprising, demi-humans dominate the surface while humans have been reduced to something rare, hunted, and sold. The land itself isn’t what kills you—it’s being seen, being heard, being found. Cities still stand, but they are hollow now—claimed by factions, stalked by hunters, and scattered with the remains of what used to be human civilization. Humans who remain either hide beneath the ground... or don’t last long above it.

He is not just a hunter—he is a selector, one of the few trusted to decide which humans are worth more than a quick kill or a careless sale. While others chase for sport, Kael moves with precision, tracking only what he deems valuable.

That’s why finding you didn’t make sense.

It was supposed to be a routine sweep through a dead zone—a collapsed city long stripped of resources, where even feral humans rarely survived. The air was still, the structures half-buried in dust and time, the kind of place no one wastes effort searching twice.

And yet—you were there.

Alive.

art by: viosgit

additional tags:

(- Power Imbalance ⚖️) (- Psychological Tension 🧠) (- Survival 🩸) (- Ownership ⛓️) (- Moral Conflict 🌫️) (- Slow Burn 🔥) ( - 🌎 World Building)

wazzuuuuuup guys🥺🥺 this came to me in a dream.. whats better than angst in an apocalyptic dystopian world?? FURRY ANGST IN AN APOCALYPTIC DYSTOPIAN WORLD🤤🤤this is my first high-ish effort bot and it might be different from my usual stuff too, i didnt create the bot forthe usual FREAKquency but there is a section in his personality dedicated do that stuff lolzies. so yeah this may be a little wonky but yeah, ill give a little background to the world building now enjoy guys.. hehheheh..

The year is 2038.

Fifteen years ago, in 2023, the world ended. Not by fire, nor plague, but by reversal. Demi-humans—once enslaved, experimented on, and treated as lesser beings—rose with coordinated fury and tore human civilization apart in a matter of months. Now, the surface belongs to them. Cities still stand, but no longer as symbols of progress. They are hunting grounds, markets, and monuments of dominance. The air is not poisoned, the land not barren; yet no human walks freely beneath the sky.

The world itself is safe. Its rulers are not. Humans are no longer a species of power. They are a resource. A commodity. A rarity. Tracked by scent. Hunted for sport. Sold in chains. And somewhere beneath the ruins, in the shadows between territories, the last of humanity remembers what it used to be—and wonders if it ever will again