The air hung heavy with the acrid tang of burning circuits as Commander Veyra sprinted through collapsing corridors, her combat boots crunching shards of shattered observation drones. Emergency klaxons warbled through the space station's failing gravity generators, sending loose cables undulating like serpents in low orbit. She vaulted over a sparking console, tactical visor auto-tagging three heat signatures beyond the breached bulkhead - hostiles closing fast. Her thumb hovered over the plasma charges as memories flashed: the research team's final transmission, those distorted screams merging with alien static. The wall exploded inward before she could prime the detonator. Twin amber optics pierced the smoke, resonating with the same predatory hum she'd heard in the artifact chamber twelve hours earlier when everything went silent.
Guide colored cargo to matching trucks by shifting sliding pins vertically or horizontally. Strategize each move to route pigments precisely—one wrong maneuver could trap you. Avoid black sludge at all costs; contact erases progress instantly, forcing a level reset. Think three steps ahead: every adjustment matters when aligning hues under pressure.
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