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~~~PROLOGUE~~~

I took two steps forward into a dark alley, raising my giant zweihander sword over my head at the same time, preparing to make the third step into a jump. My poor bastard of a target just continued to limp towards me, mouth agape, completely unaware that he had about two seconds to live.

Damn, maybe I shouldn't have made the sword this big, I thought to myself.

Currently, my weapon was just as big and heavy as I was, but when you have the strength of a wild animal running through your veins, it helps out enough. Of course, the fact that my target was mostly decomposed meant that I wouldn't need much muscle strength anyway.

Gravity exists for a reason, I guess.

I leapt up and swung straight down, cleanly slicing through my zombified assailant with enough force to crack the pavement as my sword hit the ground. In all seriousness, it was just another one of my overkill moments, but the satisfaction was worth it. After I quickly recovered and pulled my sword back to a waist-high level, I swung it around in a perfect 180 degrees arc while raising the tip to a neck-high level.

I heard a THWACK and smiled.

I was right, there WAS another zombie behind me...

I watched this one's freshly decapitated head fall to the ground. It blinked twice, then no more. You wouldn't need a heightened sense of smell to realize there's something dead and rotting creeping up on you. As the headless body fell over, I saw five more zombies shambling after their headless friend, moving much quicker than the two I just killed.

Great, these guys are blocking my escape route, so now I HAVE to slaughter them to get out of this alley. Fun, fun, fun...

Not that I had a problem with killing something that was once a rational, non-bloodthirsty human, it just meant using more energy. I was powerful, yes, but still only half human, and therefore still had my limits. Against this group of attackers in a tight space, a large, slow weapon like mine would surely get me killed.

No problem, I can fix that.

With both hands, I held my sword in front of me and focused my mind on an image of my favorite weapon set; a long sword and a short sword, perfect for quick, effective slashes. Instantly, the zweihander began to shrink and split into the same two swords, one in each hand. The excess metal, in a weird, liquid phase, crept up my arms and formed into a pair of spaulders on my shoulders. I smiled to myself and took a second to admire my handiwork. The long sword was about a meter long, finely edged, and had a perfect, triangular tip. The short sword was about half the length, and had the general shape of an Exacto-knife blade.

Not bad, not bad at all. The T-1000 would be mad jealous...

It had been a few months now, but thankfully I'd already mastered creating several weapons perfectly at any given time, these bad boys being the first. My powers were difficult to handle in the beginning, but as time went on, it began to feel more natural. As if I'd been doing this all my life. It's been hard to focus on moving individual molecules with your mind, and being surrounded by the legions of the undead closing in to devour you made it ten times harder. But as hard experience had taught me, it's learn that shit fast, or be killed even faster.

I took a few steps back, made my stance, and used my other power; a quick burst of speed. The enhanced strength and reflexes came from the animal DNA, this was something different all together. As quick as lightning, I dashed towards the zombies, and after a swift, deadly dance of blades, they were as dead as the other two. Swords in hand, I ran out of the alley and towards my zombie-busting comrades, who had their own fair share of work.

Harry, a cheetah hybrid, was having a grand 'ole time toying with a large group of zombies. He was luring them, about two dozen in total, into a partially destroyed building. That's not something I would recommend doing, but his powers made him an exception. Once he had the crowd where he wanted it, he teleported out of the building, and then re-appeared in a red cloud of mist right next to me. He then launched a volley of fireballs at it the building, which promptly collapsed into a flaming pile of rubble. "And BOOM goes the dynamite, motha FUCKAAAAAAS!!!" he shouted while laughing and watching his trap work. He turned to me, gave me the thumbs up, and then zipped away to earn more kills. I admit, destroying buildings is fun, which is why Harry always went out of his way for collateral damage. And in big, abandoned cities like this, it never got old.

On the other side of the road, my other ally Francis, an Arctic wolf hybrid who appropriately had ice-based powers, shouted "COME AND GET IT, YOU!!!" to attract his own group of targets. Once he saw them shambling towards him in a nearly straight line, he created a freezing shockwave that traveled along the ground in front of him, instantly encasing several zombies in ice and impaling others with ice stalagmites. Like me, he could also utilize quick bursts of speed, which he swiftly used to tackle and shatter the frozen zombies, leaving behind a whole mess of broken parts. Unlike Harry, he just glared at his handiwork and moved onto another group without gloating. He was all business, cold as the ice he regularly skewers zombies with.

Gee, I wish I had ranged powers, too. But nooo, every kill I make puts me right in front of undead jaws...

While I was enviously watching my allies and their zero-risk powers, I was interrupted by my earpiece suddenly coming to life with enough volume to shake me more than the zombies ever could.

"Omega Three, report! Have you and your squadron completed the objective?"

As usual, I felt like responding with "Can't you guys PLEASE just...call...me..."

...Greg...

My name was Greg. Gregory Martin Ossland, to be exact. Although, according to my superiors, my new full name/title was 'Human Advancement Companies Subject Omega Three.' A real mouthful, to be honest. My fellow hybrids still called me Greg out of courtesy, though I just wished most of the staff of HAC did as well. I strongly preferred my real name as opposed to sounding like a product, but when you think about it, "Omega Three" did sound kind of cool, like something out of a video game.

And as for my own fucked up DNA, I was a hyena hybrid.

Nothing out of the ordinary for me, though. For the past thirteen months, this was my life. The missions, the superpowers, the zombie killing; all of it.

This is what the world had come to.

This was life in the apocalypse.

~~~

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