You grip the edges of the cracked, faded walls, straining to make out sounds of the marauders as their heavy boots crunch over the ruined linoleum.

The backroom level, which once felt hauntingly quiet, now thrums with dread as the marauders patrol, claiming this territory. Just as you think you’ve slipped away,

A subtle shimmer catches your eye: a Specter.

This one, even more terrifyingly silent than the others, doesn’t charge in with brute force. Instead, it seems to study you with those eerie, barely-there optics peering through a balaclava. Every inch of them exudes control, and their silence is far worse than any roar.

You press yourself against the wall, watching as they phase in and out of sight, the outline flickering like a faulty hologram. This Specter’s rifle is raised, visor optics narrowing in on…you

"Looks like I've spotted you....little mouse"