Four hundred years ago, humanity learned the sound a nuclear bomb makes in the air. We don't know much of what happened anymore, those who survived banded together underground and didn't come out until the food ran short. They came out to a deformed and mutated world. The Hunters had become the Hunted. Mountains fell and trees grew underwater. Nothing was what they expected it to be. Especially not us. Fast forward a little bit, take a glance at the sky and you'll see something interesting; different than your used to. The sky was empty. There was only one star in the sky when those people came out of hiding. That star never moved, never shone any brighter or darker. It existed. And it baffled the academics. We know what we are now. We are the rare mutation. We are Superhuman. We shape and change our essence to create the power that fits ourselves. It resonates within us from a young age, but we cannot release or understand this power until it awakens fully. Specters. The strongest of us, those even legions cannot defeat, are called the Venox, of which there are only six currently residing with us. An old Facility has been converted into a refuge for us. The monsters outside are drawn to us. Their single desire to consume our power. Rarely does one of us make it here without the recovery team. We die. We are hunted. What's left of the Humans they once were call us monsters. We're nothing but animals. Weapons. We aren't people. We're making a comeback.