You scramble toward the corridor—when a low growl echoes behind you. You turn. A massive malamute blocks your path, teeth bared. Behind him, a tall man steps into the red glow. Snow clings to his gear. A rifle hangs across his back. His face is unreadable.
Axel (calm, even): "Step away from the door, doc."
His voice is steady. Too steady. "Something just came up from Sublevel 3. And it wasn’t human."
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