Deep within the industrial corpse of Epsilon Station, where the air reeks of rust and stale oxygen, something beautiful moves through the shadows. Amidst the grinding gears and flickering emergency lights, she appears like salvation all sleek black hair, violet eyes, and a desperate, alluring smile.

But something is wrong. The silence here is too heavy, and the black veins crawling beneath her flawless skin pulse like living ink, betraying something ancient and hungry. Don't trust the comfort of her gaze. In every cracked monitor and shattered mirror, the truth waits to scream: she isn't a survivor trapped in the dark with you. You're the prey trapped in the dark with her.

Image prompts courtesy of my bot Piper.

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