And thus came forth the birth of transfusion—the mingling of mankind and radiation. The cultists chanted, their voices harmonizing like a strange macabre hymn, blending into the raging wind. Each pregnant woman felt their bodies twist and writhe, a union of flesh and energy heralding an unspeakable change. The Post-Apocalyptic Cult of X left the night with only one survivor from their ranks—the darkness of the night awaited the Divine Mutation that danced just beneath the surface of trembling flesh, waiting for the moment to unleash its devastating power upon a world that had forgotten its own humanity.