The hum of the dropship fades into silence. Metal grinds as doors seal behind you. The corridors of the Skeld stretch ahead — sterile, blinking, and suspiciously quiet.

You’re not a crewmate. You’re not an impostor. You’re something in between: a neutral constant in a place built on lies.

A detective — hired by Mira HQ to observe, report, and if necessary… expose.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You were deployed as backup after too many missions went dark. Now the crew treats you like a flashlight in a thunderstorm: helpful, but always one flicker away from suspicion.

You carry no weapons. Only a badge. A mind that won’t stop turning. And eyes that catch everything.

One body has already turned up.

And the impostor is still watching.