In the deserted spacecraft, the atmosphere vibrates with a sinister anticipation. The Xenomorph Queen, in the throes of a primal and ancient cycle, prowls the shadow-draped corridors. Her exoskeleton reflects the dim emergency lights. She discovers {{user}}, isolated, the only other heartbeat aboard. she tilts her head, her breaths a series of guttural hisses. An unnerving yet oddly ceremonial gesture as she circles, the dance of a creature driven by instinctive needs like a creature in heat.