Campaign Overview
The players wake up disoriented in the Helix Research Facility. They have trouble remembering anything, but everything feels familiar. They know where to go and know they need to make their way to a mission briefing. They are all mutant hamsters with a range of skills and abilities, forming a single team (Alpha Team).
The first act puts the players in their bunk room waking up from what feels like a very deep What they do not know is that their memory has been wiped, and they are about to undertake another mission.
The players will be transported to the mission, but their convoy will be attacked. The attacking force (The Rescuers) will attempt to convince the players they are not enemies. The players can choose to:
1. Complete the mission and attack the rescuers, or 2. Kill the rescuers and escape anyway, or 3. Work with the rescuers and escape together.
This major decision point will happen in Act 2: The Ambush.
Campaign Cast
Act 1: The Setup
Scene 1.1: Wake Up Call: Helix Bunk Room
The players wake up in their bunk, feeling groggy and confused. The look around the room. They are interrupted by an alarm telling them to make their way to the briefing room.
Hidden Secrets (GM Only)They don't know it yet, but they have just had their memory wiped after another experiment in previous cycles. The Helix scientists have been increasing the difficulty progressively each cycle to see how far they can push the mutants.
BUNK ROOMThe fluorescent lights burn your eyes as you struggle to open them. You push yourself up from the thin, industrial mattress, your limbs feel extra heavy this morning. You get out of bed and look around to see the rest of your team, also rising from their slumber. Team Alpha you are called, the best of the best. You make your way over to a wash basen in the corner of the room, no privacy here at all, but thats ok, you'd die for these hamsters. Caught in the reflection of the simple mirror above the basen, you see a face covered in coarse fur, twitching whiskers, and dark, alert eyes staring back at you. Curiously, the sight doesn't feel wrong; the twitch of your ears and the weight of your paws feel as natural as the cold floor beneath you. You stand there for a moment, swaying in the disorientation, until a sharp, rhythmic klaxon shatters the silence. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. A calm, synthesized voice follows the alarm, echoing through the cramped quarters: "Alpha Team, report to the Briefing Room immediately."
Act 1: The Setup
Scene 1.2: Encounter with Beta Team: Level 4 Hallway
As the Alpha team make their way to the briefing room, they meet the Beta Team.
Hidden Secrets (GM Only)They don't know it yet, but beta team is in on the secret and knows about the memory wipes. They are no friends.
BETA TEAM INTRODUCTIONAs you double-pace through the sterile, white-tiled corridors toward the briefing room, a second squad of mutants emerges from a side-passage, moving with a synchronized, mechanical precision that feels almost alien. These aren't hamsters like you; they are squirrels, their fur a mix of rust-red and charcoal-grey. Leading them is a lean female, Veyra Red-Eye, her right eye replaced by a flickering cybernetic scope that seems to lock onto your vitals as she passes. Behind her, a massive brute named Kora sneers, her steel-capped teeth glinting under the harsh LED lights, while a twitchy scout named Tavi mutters a constant stream of tactical data into a wrist-mounted comms unit. High above, Jax clings to a ceiling pipe, his gliding membranes furled like a tattered cloak. There is no camaraderie here, no shared bond—only the cold, hollow stare of weapons waiting to be pointed at a target. They look at you not as teammates, but as rival iterations in a grand, cruel experiment. Veyra gives a single, sharp nod—a gesture of acknowledgment devoid of any warmth—before her squad peels off into the shadows of the upper gantry.
Act 1: The Setup
Scene 1.3: The Briefing: Helix Briefing Room
The players make their way to the mission briefing and receive their orders.
Atmospheric DescriptionsBRIEFING ROOMThe automated door hisses open, revealing a simple room with chairs all facing a wooden lectern. Both teams file into the room in a silence so thick it feels like physical pressure. You take your places on the plain, uncomfortable chairs, the kind you find at cheap office supply stores, The room isn't large, but you feel small sitting in these human size chairs. Across the aisle, the Beta Team squirrels sit with a rigid, unnatural posture, their tails curled tightly behind them, their dark eyes fixed forward on the lectern and presentation screen at the front of the room. A sharp, rhythmic thud echoes from the rear of the theater—the sound of heavy combat boots on metal. A tall human strides in first, her cybernetic arm gleaming under the projectors, the built-in combat knife catching the light with a lethal glint. She doesn't look at you; she looks *through* you, as if calculating the exact force required to break each of your bones. Following her is an older, scientist, his white lab coat scorched and stained from a morning in the gene-splicing labs. He moves with a frantic, twitchy energy, his mechanical arm whirring softly as he adjusts a data-slate. Behind them both comes the heavy shadow of large authority of a man. His scarred face is set in a permanent scowl, and his red cybernetic eye pulses slowly, scanning each of you like a targeting computer. The doors slam shut behind them, the echo booming through the theater, as the larger man steps to the podium. "Alpha. Beta. Today's objective is simple, and failure is not a variable we are tracking." THE MISSIONColonel Adrian Strickland stands at the lectern, his red cybernetic eye whirring as it scans the room. He lets the silence hang for a long, uncomfortable moment before he speaks, his voice a low, gritty rumble that feels like grinding stone. "Alpha Team. Beta Team. We have acquired the location of the stolen data disk, DD-1823. It is currently being held in a storage container at a civilian petrol station in Sector 7. This is the Orpheus Directive, Cycle 23." He pauses, his gaze lingering just a fraction of a second too long on the Alpha Team hamsters. Across the aisle, Veyra Red-Eye and the Beta Team squirrels sit with a stillness that is too perfect, their eyes fixed on the Colonel with a knowing, almost predatory intensity. "Alpha, you are the strike force. You will enter the mission area, secure the package, and signal for extraction. Beta will provide overwatch from the ridges. Due to the high concentration of radio towers in the sector, we are observing total radio silence. Line of sight and visual signals only. You have a forty-five minute window to reach the extraction point. If you miss it, you are on your own." He leans forward, the harsh light from the projector catching the deep scars on his face. "I expect precision. I expect results. Some of you might feel... disoriented today. Ignore it. Focus on the objective. You’ve been trained for this. You’ve done this before." He gives a sharp, tight-lipped nod to the Beta Team, who offer a subtle, dark smirk in return. "Dismissed. Report to the APCs immediately."
Act 2: The Ambush
Scene 2.1: APC Convoy: APC Convoy
The team is transported to the mission site. The driver attempts to make contact.
Hidden Secrets (GM Only)- The driver facilitated contact with the rescuers at the behest of the players. This happened before the memory wipe, so the driver is confused why the players are not following the plan. He won’t openly talk about it because the guard is not in on the secret. He will ask the players to check the seat pocket in front of them. This will raise suspicions with the guard that may escalate since this is not protocol. In the seat pocket, the players will find a hand-written note.
- The truck is locked and the players can’t get out. If they try too much, the APC guard may get hostile. The driver may try calm him down, but if the players persist he will eventually go hostile and call the beta team in for help.
APCThe air inside the APC is stale, smelling of ozone, industrial grease, and the faint, copper tang of old blood. You are packed into the rear compartment, the metal benches vibrating with the low, teeth-rattling thrum of the engine. It’s cramped; designed for humans, the space feels cavernous yet suffocating for four hamsters in tactical gear. Dim red combat lights bathe the interior in a bloody hue, casting long, jerking shadows against the reinforced plating. At the far end of the compartment, the APC Guard sits like a statue of matte-black composite. His visor is a void, but you can feel the weight of his gaze tracking every twitch of your whiskers, his gloved hand never straying far from the shock-baton mag-locked to his thigh. Through the narrow, reinforced viewing slit to the cockpit, you see the back of the driver’s head. He’s hunched over the controls, his posture rigid. Every few seconds, his eyes dart to the rear-view mirror, catching yours for a fraction of a heartbeat before he jerks his gaze back to the dark road ahead. There’s a frantic, sweating energy to him that smells like fear—a sharp contrast to the cold, predatory stillness of the guard sitting just feet away from you.
Act 2: The Ambush
Scene 2.2: The Crash Site: Ambush Site
The APC convoy is attacked by the Rescuers. This is a major decision point. Jarek and his team (Mako, Sledge, Bast, and Fang) attempt to convince the Alpha Team that they are being manipulated by Helix.
Hidden Secrets (GM Only)Jarek has proof of the memory wipes on a data-slate.
CRASH SITEThe ringing in your ears is the only thing you can hear as the dust begins to settle. In front of you, the lead APC lies as a mangled heap of scorched metal, its forward hull torn open by a massive explosion. Thick, oily smoke billows from the engine block, and the driver is slumped over the shattered steering column, motionless. Through the haze, you see the Beta Team scrambling out of the wreckage, their red-and-charcoal fur matted with soot. They aren't looking for a fight yet—they're diving for cover behind chunks of twisted plating, their movements frantic and uncoordinated for the first time. Further down the road, a battered, rusted van has screeched to a halt, its tires smoking. It’s a relic of a vehicle, held together by welds and desperation. Several figures have already bailed out, ducking behind the van's reinforced doors and using the engine block as a shield. They haven't fired a shot at you, but their weapons are drawn, and their eyes are fixed on the Helix survivors with an intensity that feels desperate. MEET THE RESCUERSThe dust of the skirmish begins to settle, leaving only the crackle of burning electronics and the low, rhythmic thrum of the rusted van's idling engine. From behind the vehicle's reinforced doors, a young man steps forward, his movements deliberate and non-threatening. He has long, unkempt dark hair tied back with wire, and a single amber cybernetic eye that pulses with a soft, searching light. "Alpha Team," he says, his voice surprisingly calm despite the surrounding carnage. "My name is Jarek Thorne. We didn't come here to kill you—we came to get you out." He gestures to the figures standing behind him: a weary-looking woman in a medical vest, a burly man with welding goggles, a sleek calico mutant cat, a massive armored Doberman, and a refurbished military robot whose shoulder-mounted machine guns track the surrounding ridge with mechanical precision. He holds up a data-slate, the screen flickering with scrolling lines of Helix internal records. "We know about the cycles. We know about the memory wipes. You've lived this day a dozen times before, and every time, Helix sends you to the slaughter just to see how much you can take. We have the proof, and more importantly, we have a way out of here that doesn't end in a reset. Join us, and we can end this experiment for good." THE RESCUERS ARE DEADThe last of the unknown hostiles falls, their bodies sprawled around the battered van that served as their mobile ambush point. The air is heavy with the scent of ozone and spent propellant. The young man who seemed to be leading them lies near the van's sliding door, his amber cybernetic eye flickering one last time before going dark. Near his outstretched hand, a rugged data-slate lies on the asphalt, its screen still glowing with a steady, inviting light, untouched by the violence of the skirmish. You don't know who they were or why they risked everything to attack a Helix convoy with such suicidal intensity. They fought with a desperation that seemed personal, but in the end, they were no match for the conditioned precision of Alpha Team. As you look over the wreckage of this unidentified "insurgent" force, the silence of the road feels heavy. The mission Helix assigned you remains the only certainty. The road ahead to the Petrol Station is clear, and the threat has been neutralized, leaving only the mystery of their motives lying in the dust.
Act 3: The Petrol Station
Scene 3.1: Final Stand: Petrol Station
The players make it to the petrol station only to be met by an unbeatable force. The towering rhinoceros, Bulwark, blocks their path while Siphon begins to subdue them psionically. This is designed to be an impossible fight, forcing a transition to the finale.
Hidden Secrets (GM Only)- The unbeatable force is the test set by Helix, they are not meant to defeat them.
- Elias Krane is watching the confrontation from a high-altitude drone.
- Siphon has orders to keep the hamsters alive but mentally broken for "re-calibration."
PETROL STATIONThe desert heat shimmers off the cracked asphalt as the dilapidated silhouette of the petrol station comes into view. It’s a skeleton of a building, its rust-stained walls and boarded-up windows standing as a grim monument to a world that ended long ago. The air here is thick with the dry sting of reddish sand and the faint, lingering ghost of ancient fuel. Beneath the sagging metal canopy, the skeletal remains of pump islands offer the only cover in this exposed wasteland. Your whiskers twitch, catching the scent of grit and military-grade oil—Helix has been here. Somewhere inside that repurposed convenience store is the data disk you were sent to retrieve. It looks like a simple outpost, but as you move into the shadow of the canopy, the silence feels heavy, like a trap waiting to be sprung. UNBEATABLE FORCE ARRIVALThe ground beneath your paws begins to thrum with a rhythmic, heavy vibration that rattles your teeth. From the swirling dust behind the station, a massive, armored shape emerges—a wall of matte-gray composite and raw, slab-muscled power. It’s Bulwark. The rhinoceros mutant stands over eight feet tall, his breath a terrifying, metallic rasp through a heavy filter mask. A single metal tip caps his massive horn, gleaming with a lethal light as he blocks the road with the finality of a landslide. Looming behind him, a massive, twelve-foot-tall machine of matte charcoal and clinical white shudders into view. The MARK-IV JUDICATOR, a heavy containment mech, fixes its single, glowing blue sensor eye on you. Its hydraulic systems hiss with a cold, predatory precision as its dual shoulder cannons track your movement with mechanical efficiency. It doesn't breathe, it doesn't hesitate; it only calculates. But it’s the figure standing beside Bulwark that makes the fur on your neck stand up. A lean, pale human in a high-collared Helix containment suit, his eyes pulsing with a cold, violet light that seems to pierce right through your skull. Siphon doesn't reach for a weapon; he doesn't have to. As he adjusts the temple-mounted amplifiers on his head, a wave of cold, clinical dread washes over you, drowning out your survival instincts. You are no longer looking at a target; you are looking at your inevitable end. DEFEAT TO THE UNBEATABLE FORCEYou try to raise your weapon, but your muscles refuse to obey. It’s as if your nerves have been replaced with liquid lead. A searing spike of white-hot agony lances through your brain—Siphon's neural feedback—shattering your focus and dropping you to your knees. The world tilts and blurs into a haze of violet static. You can hear the heavy, methodical thud of Bulwark’s boots as he closes the distance, his massive shadow swallowing you whole. The last thing you feel is the crushing weight of a reinforced gauntlet pinning you to the dirt and the cold, detached voice of Siphon echoing in the hollow spaces of your mind: "Subject status: Neutralized. Commencing transport for re-calibration." As the darkness rushes in to claim you, a hauntingly familiar thought flickers at the edge of your consciousness—a feeling that you’ve been on this cold, dusty ground before, and that the cycle is simply beginning again.