Control
[Arrow pointing left] The cityscape stretches endlessly, neon signs flickering like dying stars. A lone figure dashes through rain-soaked alleys, their breath visible in the cold air. [Arrow pointing right] Ahead, a shadow detaches from the darkness—blade gleaming, eyes glowing faintly cyan. "You shouldn’t have come back," the figure rasps, stepping into the light. [Arrow pointing down] A metallic clang echoes as something drops nearby: a rusted key, its edges etched with symbols matching the tattoo on your character’s wrist. [Arrow pointing up] Rooftops loom above, drones humming in formation. One falters, veering off-course—a glitch? Or an invitation?
description
The air hangs thick with the scent of rust and damp earth, the only light a flickering headlamp strapped to your helmet. Walls of jagged stone press closer with every step, the mine’s labyrinthine tunnels echoing with distant drips and the skitter of unseen things. Your pickaxe strikes a vein of quartz—a sharp *crack*—and the ground shudders. Behind you, a low groan reverberates through the darkness, as though the mountain itself disapproves of your intrusion. A collapsed shaft blocks the path ahead, its splintered beams barely holding back a tide of rubble. To the left, a rusted elevator dangles over a black abyss, its cables creaking. A faded map tucked in your pocket shows a ventilation route marked with red Xs, but the symbols swim in the dim light. The lantern on your belt casts long shadows that twist like grasping fingers. A cold draft whispers from a fissure in the wall—carrying the faintest scent of pine. Freedom? Or a trap? Your boot crunches on something brittle: bones, old and picked clean. A journal lies nearby, its pages stained with frantic scribbles. *“They’re not rats…”* it reads. *“Don’t let the dark touch you.”* A distant clang rings out. Something shifts in the tunnels below. The headlamp flickers.
