Forced Bio-Diversity and Genetic Manipulation

Everything died, so they made new stuff. It didn't go well.

"You know I heard a rumour once that there never used to be dragons, that someone made 'em. What kind of a fuckhead decided to make dragons? Oh hey, y'know, let's just build a giant fire-breathing lizard with impenetrable scaly armour and let it run around in the desert stealing people's shit.

They are pretty cool though."

The mass extinction of practically all life acclimatised to temperate climate came with several drawbacks, for example, food. As the first thermogenic methane runaway feedback loops were sprouting throughout the Old World, scientists began desperately collecting and archiving the genetic information of vanishing animal species. Governments and geneticists alike started pouring research into the art of embryonic gene manipulation. Due to this, the technology advanced rapidly as the resulting genome sequencing and editing now took only minutes instead of days or hours. These advances evolved into the abolishment of genetic disorders, then cancer cures, designer babies becoming commonplace, gender reassignment taking an afternoon, and finally reaching its zenith when hair colour could be turned from black to pink with just a throat lozenge.


Entire new races of humanoids were born from these advances in genetic manipulation. Firstly, bankrolled by southern nations looking to brace their citizens for the inevitable migration northwards, came the stocky and desert hardy Jerboans. Mixed with the DNA of kangaroo mice, the Jerboans quickly established themselves as a proud nomad race. They eschewed the comforts of the newly upspringing megacities in favour of small and mobile familial clans.


Secondly, to maintain their nepotistic hold on their wealth, the Extension of Life Functions was bankrolled by the world's wealthiest individuals, birthing Elfs. Able to live for up to four hundred years, Elfs maintain their ethereal beauty and youth well into their 200s.


Attempts to stabilize the climate resulted in the creation of the Gobbos. Their name is an initialism for Generating Oxygen By Biosynthesising Oxides. A Gobbo is a short, green, photosynthetic humanoid that breathes carbon dioxide through their skin and expels oxygen. Requiring little more than a place to sunbathe, Gobbo culture has evolved into one of drinking, merriment, and public indecency. Lastly, as a last-ditch attempt to maintain a hold on their national sovereignty, scientists backed by northern old-world leaders created the Nayalings, a race of genetically modified combatants bred to endure the harsh tropical storms ravaging the Northern Hemisphere. While any notions of national patriotism died centuries ago with the nations themselves, thoughts of animosity and suspicion against the Nayalings still linger.

But the animals of the Old World were dwindling exponentially.


As a result, governments and corporations alike tasked scientists with creating new, resilient creatures to thrive in Earth's new climates. Organisms included the photosynthetic cattle, which expelled oxygen instead of methane, or the beloved Hot Dog, a species of intelligent cold-blooded lizard with the intelligence and genetic diversity of canines.


Unfortunately, scientists are huge nerds - A la the Mad:Max heterocomplex. Thoughts turned from the utilitarian and pragmatic - if somewhat dull - organisms to dragons, dinosaurs, and adorable pets such as the four eared Fennec and the salacious Tentacloid. Left unchecked by panicking world leaders and migrating citizenry, these scientists populated the world with creatures of myth and legend from the birthing facilities dotted around the planet. These creatures then mated, resulting in the globe repopulating with new, hardy, and exciting animals.


When the Great Relocation to the north began, many facilities were abandoned and left on autopilot. Still active, the procedural generation of new species remained guided by rudimentary artificial intelligence. But as these facilities became run down over the years and the artificial intelligence became corrupted, malformed mutants and abominable wretches spewed forth. Zones like Tarantulina Peninsula became overrun with toxic run-off and tumorous monstrosities.


To this day, these mutants provide an ever-present danger to those living outside the fortified megacities. Roving hordes of the shambling freaks require mounted forces to drive them away from charging outposts and onsen villages.

Meanwhile, in megacities, gene therapy has become as commonplace and convenient as hair salons and make-up stalls. Denizens with enough creds can quickly swap their gender as they please, altering their entire body shape or even the make-up of their brain. Back alley genetic manipulation offers cheaper options, resulting in Splicers. These genetic hybrids utilise animal DNA to gift themselves advantages in combat or personal cosmetic choices. Corporations even use insidious gene-editing techniques to give themselves a larger share of the customer demographic. For example, the infamous CEO of Estrostem, Madeleine Rie, uses her company to turn depressed or anxious clients into air-headed, cheerful, and attractive women. This tactic served to starve her competition of a miserable, desperate workforce and to bolster sales of her other product lines.


All in all, the advances in genetic manipulation are both a blessing and a curse. It is a blessing for those who enjoy a disease-free life with the ability to edit their entire body in an afternoon. However, it's a curse for those who don't like being eaten by dinosaurs.

"I been a rancher all my life. Mah daddy wuz a rancher, his daddy was a rancher, an' his daddy a'fore him. T'ain't no honest work like sittin' under a lemon all day watchin' 'em big green bastards soak up th' sun. 'Course I keeps mah daddy's rail rifle at hand in case o' rustlers."

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