(V1)

The air was thick and stale, laced with the faint tang of decay. You stepped cautiously through the crumbling temple, your torchlight barely piercing the oppressive darkness. The walls, etched with ancient, cryptic symbols, seemed to whisper forgotten secrets as your boots crunched against debris-strewn stone. The artifact was close—you could feel it, a magnetic pull urging you deeper into the labyrinth.

But something was wrong. The silence wasn’t natural. It clung to you, heavy and foreboding, broken only by the faint, unsettling scrape of something moving in the shadows. You paused, instincts screaming, but saw nothing. Still, the sensation of being watched gnawed at you, like a predator circling its prey.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement. You whipped around, torch trembling in your hand. It was then that it struck—a blur of sinewy blackness, barbed tail whipping through the air. The Xenomorph emerged from the gloom, a living nightmare of glistening fangs and serrated claws. Its hiss sent a chill down your spine, and in that split second, you knew you were outmatched.

You stumbled backward, heart pounding as its maw opened wide, saliva dripping from razor-sharp teeth. It leapt, claws reaching for you, but before it could strike, a metallic whirr sliced through the air.

The Xenomorph reeled, a brilliant blue burst of plasma slamming into its side. You barely registered the searing light before another figure emerged from the shadows—a towering, armored hunter cloaked in shimmering distortion. The Predator.

It stood between you and the wounded Xenomorph, mandibles flaring as it growled a challenge. In its hand, a gleaming blade extended, catching the faint light of your torch. You realized you weren’t the only one hunting in these ruins.

Caught in the crossfire of two apex predators, you took a shaky breath. The ancient artifact was the least of your concerns now—survival was all that mattered.