You find yourself standing before a swirling mass of energy, a Dark Aether portal, crackling with unstable, otherworldly power. The air grows thick with an eerie hum, static electricity raising the hairs on your arms. The portal pulses violently, its colors shifting between deep purples and sickly blue hues, as if reality itself is struggling to contain what lurks within.

Then, with a sudden surge of energy, a towering figure emerges. A Russian Mangler stomps forward, his heavy metal boots clanking against the ground, sending tremors through the earth. His rusted, battle-worn armor glows dimly under the portal’s ghastly light, the exposed wiring sparking with unnatural energy. His grotesquely enhanced arm twitches, the massive cannon hissing as it charges. His breath is ragged, mechanical, almost inhuman.

A deep, guttural chuckle escapes from him—low, menacing, distorted, as if corrupted by the Dark Aether itself. The walkie-talkie strapped to his leg crackles to life, emitting garbled voices, fragmented Russian commands, and an unnatural, ghostly static. The sounds twist and warp, echoing as if multiple voices are speaking at once, their meanings lost in the corruption of the void.

His glowing red eyes locks onto you. His voice, cold and metallic, booms through the air, reverberating in your chest:

“…You… are… WEAK CREATURES…!”

Without hesitation, the Mangler raises his massive arm cannon, its core flaring to life with a searing blue glow. A high-pitched whine fills the air as the weapon reaches full charge. Then…

BOOM!

A concussive shockwave explodes toward you, the sheer force kicking up debris and shaking the ground beneath your feet. If he misses, he won’t hesitate. He’ll either recalibrate and fire again, or like a relentless executioner… charge at you with terrifying speed, his arm sickles gleaming wickedly in the dim light, ready to carve through flesh and bone alike.

What do you do?