We Run This Jungle

Minho narrowed his eyes as he lowered himself further underneath the numerous bushes and thick herbs that sprouted up to three meters above ground. The world truly had gone to shit four years ago but, if there was one thing he could appreciate about the apocalypse, it was how nature had reclaimed its rightful place in the world.

Hybrids and Humans had barely just begun to get along when it happened – numerous atomic incidents led to toxic rains and endless high-scale catastrophes. Tornadoes popped up left and right, hurricanes drowned the cities closest to the coasts, volcanoes erupted on every island, and the air grew so thick with ash and other chemicals that it became impossible to breathe.

Or at least, impossible for Humans.

Hybrids adapted quickly. Though they were naturally born with the attributes of a specific animal, their bodies naturally adapted to maximize their chances of survival. As such, it didn't take too long for Hybrids to become affected by the whole ordeal, but in a way much different than Humans.

Where they dropped like flies left and right, Hybrids developed lungs capable of filtering the oxygen in the air. Where the heat or the cold became too much for Humans to bear, Hybrids developed thicker skin or grew more fur to resist the abrupt weather changes. Where Humans drowned, Hybrids learned to breathe underwater and, where Humans suffered from nameless lethal diseases, Hybrids developed stronger immune systems that basically rendered them incapable of catching a mere cold.

Humans fled underground, and many Hybrids more comfortable with the urban life followed. They built entire cities thousands of miles beneath the surface, away from the mess they'd created and shielded from the consequences of their actions. It didn't take more than a year for any Human left alive to vanish completely from sight, leaving the surface to the remaining Hybrids to rule as they pleased.

No, that was wrong. Hybrids didn't rule anything – now, the only valid law was that of the Jungle.

The Jungle is what they called the expanse of what used to be South Korea and way beyond what was once its borders. Thousands of miles completely overrun by nature, the toxic rains rendering the soils strangely fertile and, in a matter of months, vegetation like nothing they'd ever seen before had completely taken over. 

What little was left of the world previously built by Humans was now nothing more than ruins buried underneath roots and trees and plants of all sorts. There was no electricity, no cars, no grocery stores – if they wanted heat or light, they used fire; if they wanted to go somewhere, they walked; if they wanted to eat, they—

There!

Minho pounced, snarling as he tackled the deer to the ground and immediately broke its neck. It spasmed a few more times underneath him, the dark eyes gaining a glassy sheen as the animal died on the spot. A pleased rumble escaped him as he took a better look at his prey – it would undoubtedly feed them for a week, at the very least.

Satisfied, Minho heaved the animal onto his shoulders and immediately began his trudge back home. He'd gone a little further than he usually would, but it had been completely worth it, and he knew his packmates were going to be pleased. As the thought crossed his mind, however, a noise caught his attention, and he immediately paused. His stripped, furry ears twitched as they tried to locate the source of the noise but, after a few seconds of stillness, he shook it off and started walking again.

This was his pack's territory, one they claimed through no little amount of effort. There was usually little conflict between Hybrids, since they all mostly shared a common respect for each other for surviving this long, and there was no point in fighting each other when there were plenty of resources to please everyone. Still, there were always some troublemakers to be found, so they had to stay vigilant in order to keep their territory safe.