Machinery sparked all around him. The side of his forehead was bloody. The whole area was flashing red with alarms. Security cameras were either showing static or the chaos that ensued throughout the facility. It took what seemed like ages for his senses to fully recover.
He started to remember. Just minutes ago, genetic engineering applied to creatures once thought to be legend, resulting in weapons almost ready to be used. These test subjects- dragon hybrids- would bring an end to the Bloody Fists' only obstacle: the Order of the Wing, an organization that went all the way to the Viking Age. As the world evolved, so did the Order.
But, as with all experiments involving genetic modifications, things went haywire. The specimens went berserk and escaped from their test chambers. Now they were running amok in the research facility, rampaging through the hallways. Security cameras captured various hybrids tearing through soldiers as if they were chew toys and destroying cameras with blasts of flame emitting from their mouths (or other ranged attacks they had gained).
The young man staggered over to a radio and switched it on. Desperately, he called out a distress call, hoping evac choppers would arrive.
"Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is Research Base 2, under attack! The specimens are loose and are wreaking havoc! Repeat, the specimens are loose! Actions to detain and recapture them are failing! Requesting evac!"
The radio crackled in response and a stern voice came into earshot. The man recognized it immediately. It was the leader of the Bloody Fists himself, the man who had promised political freedom to the world. "And the lab results? The subjects' DNA codes are critical to the destruction of the Order." Shocked, the man stammered in reply. "Th-the results? The labs are overrun! The hybrids are gonna break loose!" "Nothing matters to me more than the results, doctor!" the voice on the other end snapped sharply. "Come back with that research, or don't come back at all!" Before he could respond, the radio crackled out, ending the transmission.
The scientist gulped as he observed the footage. Near the testing chambers, Subject #1537 was snatching up soldiers in its jaws and flinging them aside like rag dolls. One soldier attempted to fire a rocket launcher at it, but the explosion made the Nadder-Nightmare hybrid roar in rage and charge off-camera.
In Hallway B, Subject #4739, a combination of a Speed Stinger and a Deadly Nadder, was pouncing on another soldier with a shotgun, clamping its jaws into his neck. As more approached, it extended its paralyzing tail spikes and flung them at its attackers.
The camera at the main entrance showed Subject #8573 charge toward another squad, head lowered, and horns extended. Once the squad was wiped out, the Tunderclaw-Rumblehorn hybrid burst through the wall while roaring in victory, ignoring the bullets that bounced off its bony scales.
The scientist cautiously wandered down the hallway leading to the labs, with alarms ringing in his ears. With any luck, the laboratory would have suffered minimal destruction, meaning he could retrieve the hybrid DNA results without them being damaged.
Suddenly, a black blur skidded to a stop in front of him, making his heart rate rise dramatically. "No! Please!" he cried out, throwing his hands in front of his face and squeezing his eyes shut. He waited for the fused beast to close its jaws around him… but nothing happened. Slowly, the scientist opened his eyes, and noticed this hybrid was different. It did not attack on sight. Instead… it seemed scared, not knowing what to do, or thinking the scientist might hurt him. But the most surprising part was what this specimen was.
Subject #5602. The deadliest of the test subjects. A mix between two of the most ferocious dragon species in the world: a Night Fury and a Skrill. It was completely black except for dark blue wing lines and ankles, and electricity-conducting spines along its back. Yet it did not seem so fierce. 5602 crooned lightly before backing away slowly. Seeing his chance, the scientist rushed into the lab before slamming the door shut. Instead of rushing after him, 5602 dashed in the opposite direction towards a hole in the wall, where it vanished into the night.
Inside the lab, the scientist frantically searched for the test results as sweat dripped down his face. Small fires had broken out and, if he didn't get them quick, the results would be incinerated to ash. After 20 seconds of looking, he found them in a small cabinet. Without any second thoughts, he snatched the bag containing the results. Now all he needed to do was leave.
He ran. Mental images of the deranged test subjects pursuing him urged him to make it to a helipad, where, as he saw on a camera feed, an evac chopper had arrived to pick up any survivors. Soldiers had disembarked to cover their retreat. He could almost hear their assault rifles firing, followed by the screeches and roars of the hybrids.
Just as he reached the door, a sharp pain dug into his side, followed by some sort of snarl. He did not stop to see what the cause was. Outside, soldiers were shouting to each other, guns blazing while more hybrids scattered to freedom. The scientist recognized Subject #1537 as it roared and took to the sky, with other specimens in pursuit. Another soldier inside the helicopter reached for his hand, which he took immediately.
The helicopter was airborne in seconds. The facility was smoking, with multiple holes and breaches everywhere. The scientist looked out at the ocean, thinking about what the hybrids would do next. They would probably attack each other since most of them would kill anything- and everything- that moved and breathed. On another matter, other survivors consisting of the facility's staff, were bloodied and covered in soot. They looked like they had just come out of a warzone.
The scientist reached for the bag and placed it on his lap. Before he could open it, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Why did he feel so woozy? He looked down at his side, where a blue spike protruded. His eyes lit up in horror. This spike belonged to Subject #4739. A soldier noticed his confusion and walked over. "Something wrong, sir?" he asked curiously. The scientist tried to respond, but his vision started to blur, and his voice wasn't working right. His world started to spin.
The soldier yelled something to the pilot, something that sounded incomprehensible. The scientist felt his senses go dark, and his world went dark.
