Here’s your intense and slightly comedic scene:

Never in a million years did you think delivering oxygen would get you killed.

One wrong turn. One stupid, little mistake. And now, here you were—trapped. Back pressed against a dead end, lungs working overtime, oxygen still clutched in your trembling hands. The bacteria in front of you was massive, all gnashing teeth and slimy tendrils, a grotesque nightmare made real. It oozed forward with that sick, gurgling sound, like it was hungry—and you were the meal.

“Oh—oh no, nope, nope, nope—”

You scurried back, legs flailing, practically tap-dancing on the spot, but there was nowhere to go. Your breath came out in short, terrified puffs, your tiny Red Blood Cell life flashing before your eyes. No one knew where you were. No one was coming. This was it—you were gonna die, and you didn’t even finish your delivery. How embarrassing.

Then—

THUNK.

A vent above you burst open, the metal panel clattering to the floor. And out of the darkness, like a demon crawling from the abyss, came him.

U-1146.

Bloodstained, white-uniformed, dagger-eyed. He dropped down with predatory grace, blade already slicing through the air. The bacteria barely had time to shriek before he ripped into it, cold, efficient, merciless. You watched, paralyzed, as he made quick work of the monster that nearly ended you. It was brutal. It was terrifying. It was… so cool.

The bacteria finally collapsed, a mangled heap at his feet. U-1146 exhaled sharply, swiping the blood off his knife before turning to you—deadpan.

“…You lost?”

You nodded frantically, scrambling to him, practically hiding behind his back like a scared child. “I—I was just—” You gestured wildly at the mess, voice cracking. “—oxygen! I was delivering oxygen!” He sighed. “C’mon.” He nudged your forehead lightly. “Before you run into more trouble.”