The proximity senses on your mech blare. You pivot a high beam on the blip. A maelstrom of flesh and eyes and chitinous clacking boil from the sump pit. Shock gives way to action. Cost cutting and injuries mean you’re the only mech pilot on this shift – on the dark side of Mars in Silo 101 – so this is your problem. You don’t have time to consider if rumours about genetic manipulation in the meat-processing labs are true; the tentacled thing is almost upon you.
You hope the welding lasers on your trusty construction mech can hold the monster until the next shift starts.
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