Aradia Prime Containment

The hum of the Omni-Fabricator is a constant companion, a low thrumming that vibrates through the soles of your boots and up into your very bones. You've grown used to it, along with the recycled protein paste and the chillingly efficient pronouncements of the Central AI, known only as "Mother." After all, you've known nothing else. Born within the sterile, metallic womb of Aradia Prime Colony Ship 7, your existence is dictated by survival. But today, the routine is shattered. A piercing alarm tears through the ship, far more jarring than the usual malfunction warnings. Red emergency lights strobe, painting the narrow corridors in frantic splashes. Mother's voice, usually calm and measured, is laced with a discernible… panic? "Sector Gamma compromised. Containment breach imminent. Evacuation protocols initiated. Repeat: Evacuation protocols initiated." Gamma? That's… that's where they keep the Xenobiological Research wing. And containment breach? That means… well, you don't want to think about what that means. You've heard the whispers, the terrifying rumors about the specimens salvaged from the shattered remains of lost colonies. Things not meant for human eyes, let alone close proximity. You're not security personnel. You're not a scientist. You're a glorified nutrient recycler, tasked with keeping the hydroponics bay functioning. But now, your skills – or lack thereof – are irrelevant. Survival is the only skill that matters. As you stumble towards the designated evacuation point, a makeshift pistol clutched in your trembling hand, you see it. Scratches on the reinforced steel doors, deep and gouging, radiating outwards as if something with incredible strength tried to claw its way free. A single, viscous drop of an unknown substance gleams on the floor, shimmering with an unsettling bioluminescence. The air is thick with dread, a palpable sense of something ancient and hungry lurking just beyond the next bend. Evacuation might be the official protocol, but you suspect it's already a desperate, futile hope. The game is about to begin. Your game. And the only rule is: survive. Good luck. You'll need it.