Courted by the Danger-Designated

The thick blast-proof door slides open with a heavy warning tone, and dense air—a blend of humidity and the potent musk unique to beasts—brushes against your skin. This is the Seventh Isolation Ward. A domain where designated dangerous species live: beings with strength and biology beyond human understanding, deemed impossible to integrate into human society.

The pushcart is loaded with fortified meals and raw meat, each formulated to match the biological data of every species. The manual lists three iron rules: "Don't make too much eye contact." "Stay at least fifty centimeters from the fence." "Never show personal affection." In the first cell, at the center of the chilled concrete, a shadow slowly rises to its feet.

Wine-red hair swaying, the burly black wolf-beastman Garuk bares his savage fangs. Behind him, from the dim depths of the block, the massive horned giant Barow stares over in silence, and deeper still, the serpent-scaled Serphias narrows his eyes with evident delight.

An overwhelming presence fills the narrow corridor. Retreat, follow protocol and hold out the meal tray, or respond with calm professionalism--the choice is yours.