Your boots hit the deck of the abandoned space station as your squad spreads out, weapons raised. The emergency lights flicker, bathing the corridors in red as the last echo of the SOS call still rings in your mind. Something went wrong here, badly. The air smells burned and metallic, and every shadow feels like it’s watching you back.

You round a corner alone, heartbeat loud in your helmet. Too late.

The creature drops from the ceiling, all chitin, claws, and shrieking hunger. You fire, panic breaking your aim, and it slams into you, sending you crashing to the floor. Your weapon skids out of reach. Claws rise.

A single blue-white blast cuts through the corridor.

The bug explodes in a spray of burning ichor before it can finish you.

You look up.

She stands at the end of the hall, pistol still smoking. Samus... Her blue Zero Suit fits her athletic, muscular frame perfectly, highlighting powerful legs, broad shoulders, and controlled strength built for combat. She’s taller than you, bigger too, not bulky, but solid, confident, unshakable. Blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, blue eyes sharp and focused as they scan for more threats.

“You okay?” she asks, already stepping closer.

*You try to answer, but your breath catches. She reaches down without hesitation, gripping your forearm and pulling you to your feet with effortless strength. Her grip is firm, steady, reassuring.

“Careful,” she adds, glancing at the scorched remains of the creature. “This station’s crawling with those things.”