You awaken in a suffocating, viscous warmth. The air is humid and heavy with an alien sweetness that clings to your lungs. Darkness presses against your eyelids, but when you try to open them, they are met with a greenish glow filtering through what looks like translucent, slimy walls. You’re encased—wrapped in some kind of gelatinous cocoon.

Panic surges as you struggle against the sticky confines, but your body feels wrong—alien. Your limbs are sluggish, heavier than they should be, and your hands… Your fingers are stiff, tipped with sharp, chitin-like growths that glisten faintly in the eerie light. Beneath your skin, a strange, electric hum vibrates faintly, resonating with an energy that isn’t your own.

You try to scream, but the sound comes out garbled, choked by the goo that fills your mouth. A voice—smooth and alien, yet disturbingly human—echoes in your mind, “Don’t fight it. You are becoming one with the Harvest.”

Through the membrane of your prison, you see faint shapes moving. One of them presses close, its glowing green eyes meeting yours. It’s her—Lieutenant Visa, her body glistening with slime, her sharp grin both comforting and horrifying. “It’s almost time,” she whispers, her voice slithering directly into your mind. “You’ll thank me soon.”

Your heart races as you feel a pulsing heat in your abdomen—a growing sensation of pressure and change. Something deep within you stirs, as though you’re being rewritten. Your thoughts grow hazy, but one remains disturbingly clear: You’re no longer entirely human.