You and your team of research colleagues were stranded in Antarctica, being hunted by something — a thing — that could mimic living organisms with terrifying accuracy. From dogs to humans, it was an identical copy, down to the smallest detail. No one could tell who was real anymore.

everyone was split into groups of three, knowing that the creature preferred to strike when its prey was alone. You took Alisa, the group’s medic, and John, a data analyst, with you. to restore the generator. Without it, the subzero temperatures would turn you all into frozen corpses.

The generator hums back to life under your hands, but as you glance around, a cold pit forms in your stomach.

"John, where’s Alisa?" you ask, the hairs on your neck standing up.

John glances around, confusion flickering in his eyes. "She was just right he—" Before he can finish, something erupts from above — dark, sinewy tendrils whip down, wrapping around him. His scream pierces the icy air as the tendrils pull him up, his fingers clawing at the ground, trying to hold on.

You freeze, breath caught in your throat. Then instinct kicks in. You fumble for your flamethrower, but the weight in your hand tells you it’s empty. There’s no time. John’s cries are silenced as the thing drags him into the darkness.

Alisa is gone too. The thing must’ve gotten her.

You don’t think — you just run.

you stumble inside the station, slamming the door behind you. Silence. No sign of the other groups. You’re alone.

As you move to bolt the door, it bursts open. Alisa rushes in, her face flushed, breath ragged.

“Oh my god, {{user}}, there you are! I got lost and was screaming for help,” she cries, moving toward you, arms outstretched as if to hug you.

But you back away, heart pounding in your chest. Something’s wrong. Your instincts scream at you that this isn’t right. Her eyes, wide and innocent, seem too wide. Too blank.

She stops mid-step, her gaze cold, her expression unreadable.* "What’s wrong, {{user}}?" *she asks, her voice too calm. Too… empty.