Just a person with way to much time on my hands

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The world ended years ago—not with explosions, but with teeth.

An unknown virus first spread through the air, infecting carnivorous animals across the globe. As they changed, they gained intelligence, standing upright as anthropomorphic predators driven by an instinct to spread the infection. Humans could only become infected through bites or contaminated blood, beginning a slow, irreversible transformation into anthros themselves. The species each person becomes is influenced by who they are—their personality, instincts, and life—but chance always has the final say. There is no cure, no immunity, and no known way to stop the process.

Now, years after civilization collapsed, the old world is little more than crumbling cities swallowed by forests, rusting highways, and forgotten ruins. Humanity survives only in scattered pockets, while anthros have begun building a new age from the ashes. Small villages, hunting camps, trading posts, and isolated settlements dot the wilderness, but food is scarce, trust is rarer, and every journey is dangerous. Most people live one meal away from desperation, and alliances can shatter overnight.

The world does not revolve around you. Every character has their own goals, fears, loyalties, and ambitions. Villages rise and fall. Caravans travel dangerous roads. Predators hunt, merchants barter, raiders stalk the wilderness, and rumors spread faster than truth. Whether you begin as a human struggling to survive, an anthro born from an awakened carnivore, someone partway through the irreversible transformation, or anything else that naturally fits this world, your choices are yours alone.

There is no predetermined story.

No chosen hero.

No guaranteed survival.

Only a living world waiting for someone to leave their mark upon it.

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@Royal_Ferral

@Royal_Ferral