It had been ten years since the end of civilization. The human race was still around, like a cockroach that just wouldn't die. After all, they were nothing if not persistent. There were plenty of theories about how it had happened, ranging from curse to divine intervention. A few still knew the truth though: the humans did it to themselves. After all, what chance had natural disaster or global warming have when the best minds of a species were actively searching for the newest, fastest, cheapest ways to kill themselves?

It was a biological weapon that finally did the job. A few unscrupulous organizations had managed to get samples of a new biological weapon developed by an American military think-tank looking for the next generation of non-lethal crowd control. It caused small tumors in the hypothalamus to lower aggression response. However, it didn't work as intended. Instead of calming, it strengthened the urges in the affected, be they hunger, anger, or lust. It raised the pain threshold, increased adrenaline release, and made rational thought impossible. In short, it made people into raging monsters, set off by the slightest urge. Worst of all, the mutation was contagious. In the hands of the highest bidder on the black market, it was quickly used.

Humanity shouldn't have ended, but it did. Instead of recognizing the threat, governments tried to cover up what was happening. Like China had with the SARs outbreak, countries pretended that all was fine to give the illusion of power and stability. They refused to work together until it was too late. By the time the governments knew what was really happening, they were almost out of time.

Russia was able to hold against the creatures, but with so much territory it was only a matter of time until an outbreak was missed and they fell. India and China were overrun quickly, their dense populations serving as a breeding ground that spawned the monsters faster than they could be killed. Any countries bordering them were swarmed by huge numbers of the things. The Middle East did well for a while, their militias unified toward a common goal. Unfortunately, many of the leaders in the area were not so wise, and instead took the opportunity to settle old scores. With the people fighting on two fronts, they too collapsed. Australia managed to keep its coastal cities intact, though the interior of the continent was lost. Small pockets of civilization survived in central Africa, and larger territories remained under human control to the north and the south.

Japan survived, though the military was forced to carpet bomb the northern half of the island, and the survivors had nowhere near as much food as they needed. South America was lost almost entirely, though Brazil managed to secure the banks of the Amazon for miles. Central America fell, except for those that managed to escape to what had once been Incan ruins. The larger Canadian cities were fortified, and those in the less populated areas migrated toward the coasts and border, their expedition parties set upon by roaming semi-humans. The US split in half, the Great Plains now too dangerous to attempt to journey across. The East and West lost contact with each other, both believing that the other coast had fallen.

Still, humanity could have survived, could have repopulated and rebuilt. And then the bombs began to fall. Launched by the insane, the terrified, the angry, the bored, it mattered little to those caught in the blasts. As the explosions tore into the earth, the ash, the fallout, and the fire engulfed the world, and finally the human race fell, having corrupted itself, poisoned the ground, and blotted out the sun. But though fallen, some survived...