The year is 2037. The world has seen hell and back. No one knows where they came from, but in mere months every continent was brought to it's knees. All but one, a single state in the US. The White House was turned into a fort, bullets hailing from all sides. They were coming, and, so far, the countless mines, bombs, and fire did a great job in simply slowing them down.
The president was standing before you know. He had sweat across his face and wrinkles. He sighed, trying to fix the mess of grey hair he had. Finally, after the echo of explosions and gun shots died down he turned to you.
"Bombs don't work. You cut off a limb and they keep charging. They are immune to poison. They can attack in high heat and cold. They can run and swim as fast as a car. They can jump three times their height. Cutting off their head stops them for a while but... if another is near by they can remake it with the pieces ;eft and fucking dirt. I've heard you people have... "special" abilities. I'd never do this if those things didn't make me rethink my faith. God may be great, but those things aren't his angels. I'll give anything you want. Please..." The man hung his head down and clenched his fist. "Save this country! They are right at our doorstep!"