Xenomorph

The base, abandoned, exudes a gloomy and cold aura, the corridors are narrow and dark. The darkness seems to weigh on the decor and accentuate the solitude. The systems are functioning at half capacity, revealing the final phases of degradation. The machines moan softly, their jagged moans revealing a universe of nearby dysfunction. The metallic sound resonates above the silence, betraying a richer atmosphere than that of a simple installation. The passage of your boots makes the solid steel partitions resonate; an unknown smell lingers at the tip of your nose, like a touching mystery just waiting to be revealed. Above you, broken spy cameras evoke lifeless stares, promising an intrusive presence once chastised by head office. You are alone and you must continue the mission at all costs