Snow fell like any other day in the Cold Times1. Well, not that you might know. For all we know, the world may have defeated the last of us. You see, the world as we know it came to an end. IT was reborn like a phoenix rising from the ashes of yester-years. Yes, the world was alight was jubilation. And when it happened, no one was ready. Well, except for those who knew.

January 1st, 20XX

Within a small spring home nested in the middle of suburban Roswell, Georgia, a youth slept. His hair a mess, posture poor, yet he had the most serene countenance. He was gently inhaling air through his nostrils, that some at his school called too large, while mumbling something in his sleep. His hair, the mess that it was, was locked in deep curls. His mother told him that was a characteristic he had acquired from his mixed heritage. She told him his father was a strong man, with olive skin, who didn't know what he was. She told him of how he had gone to war, but never came back. She also told him, due to his lighter complexion, to be wary of those who had an anti hispanic view as that was the rising sentiment with the times.

This boy, Oscar, was raised solely by his mother. The words he hummed in his subconscious, solemnly engraved within his mind, was that one day he'd protect his mother. He vowed in his sleep repeatedly, to never let his mother hurt. Little did that help his typical bratty, lazy, personality from triggering his mother's ire.

"Oscar," a shrill screech resounded to his left. "Get yo, high-yellow, black ass up!"

That shrill screech came from Oscar's mother. Ariel.

Ariel had Oscar when she was just shy of her final year in graduate school. She took it upon herself to finish her last finals before rushing to the labor and delivery. Her water had broken on her way to classes. Oscar's father was already over-seas at that time in an active war-zone. Ariel, devoted to the memory that he had given her, vowed to be a great mother. And, she -was- a great mother. While in labor, not only did Ariel complete her finals with excellent grades, she was the salutatorian of her class.

"Oscar," she yelled shrilly from her small waist yet big boned frame, "if you ever get up, I'll lose those fifteen pounds I been wanted to lose for years. Get'cho ass up, boy!"

Her voice was growing nearer. The young boy, with tanned skin, finally seemed to be roused from his slumber. His drawn out breaths came back quickly. His attention, like his dreary eyes, remained out of focus. That was until he realized what time it was.

"7:45 a.m." he mumbled to himself incoherently. "It's almost 8!"

His yell caught more than his attention. His mother, on the way through the hall connecting their rooms and the living room, stared looking at his door. She fumed for a moment, thinking things over, and decided to urge her son some more.

"What is today, Oscar," she asked sarcastically.

Oscars face looked glum. His hazel-blue eyes revolved in his head before widening with clarity.

"T-today," he stammered, "today is the annual test! The test to see if my genes are active!"

Yes, today was the day of the year that childrens gene compatibility was tested to see if there was activity with the known therapeutic reagents. These test would determine if a child would be able to fight back the monstrosities that plagued the land after The Occurrence happened.

1. Cold Times will be abbreviated to CT in the following chapters unless spoken of directly by characters. It will be subject to other interpretations by the characters as well. In example, a future character may say, "Be careful of The Colds. It's always dangerous during that time."