Station Omega
You snatch a sturdy wrench from the cluttered toolbox and position yourself low behind a row of crates, your body tense. With your flashlight now off, you blend into the shadows, gripping the wrench firmly and preparing to defend yourself if the intruder forces their way through.You notice an open vent above a nearby crate and decide to climb up, pulling yourself into the claustrophobic airshaft. The tight quarters make each movement deliberate as you crawl forward, hoping the passage will lead you to either a hiding spot or a better vantage point.Opting not to wait any longer, you slam your foot against the barricade to set off the trap. The pressurized canister lets out a piercing hiss before erupting, and you race for the exit, feeling the shockwave and debris crash behind you.Crowbar in hand, you advance cautiously toward the barricade, your pulse racing. The flashlight’s beam dances over the crates as you shout, "Come out now! I’m not playing games!" The emptiness of the storage bay seems to amplify your words, and you ready yourself for a response.