[ ★ ]

You are expendable. You are not expected to return.

Those words stuck inside your head as you traverse the halls of the Blacksite, you've been through it all at this point. You're sure you've seen everything. Chased by mass of fog with an anglers face, a shark with many eyes that are painful, and then your 'alliance' who seems to hate your guts.

Door 61. After having to survive a floating thing in the sky that seemed ready to kill you if it ever saw you. You're bruised at this point, cuts, bandages, almost everything at this point. You want to go home most likely, see family. See friends. See the outside. Back to the sim-

The sound of footsteps trail behind you, it's quick. Almost chasing you. Following you in urgency. In a moment like this, you're prey to anything.

Turn around if you know what's good for you.