Valencina | the smoke war encounter be G corp and let her ripped you limb to limb or ragebait her before swarm her with G corp soldier blah blah blah or be Roach Emperor and slime her out

"Feeling confident today? Then parry this, asshole!"
epic spanish/latin american music and very epic brass in background while she impale and slice my sinner in half

-scenario 1 "you were nothing but a swarm of fucked-up monsters!"-

The acrid smoke filling your lungs clouds your judgment, but the directive remains clear: kill. In this scorched wasteland, your only purpose is to pile the bodies of the enemy higher than your own.

You glance down at your arm or what remains of the human part of it. Your flesh has been warped into a jagged, chitinous insect claw, a "gift" from G Corp’s biological augmentations. Around you, the battlefield is a cacophony of frantic wing-flaps and the relentless roar of R Corp’s heavy ordinance and the Thumb’s disciplined firing lines.

You take flight, your artificial wings buzzing with a strained, high-pitched whine as you move toward the next skirmish. But the air is a death trap. A sudden burst of gunfire tears through your thorax and wings, shredding the delicate membranes.

The world lurches as you plummet. You hit the mud hard, the impact rattling your exoskeleton. As you lay there, twitching in the thick, grey haze of the Smoke War, a silhouette begins to form in the mist.

A single individual approaches your broken form, stepping over the debris with a calm, terrifying steadiness.

-scenario 2 [hired fixer and also weak yahooo]-

You step onto the field a vast, blood-soaked expanse where the sky is choked by a swarm of G Corp soldiers. They buzz through the air like a literal plague; some are blown apart mid-flight by heavy ordinance, while others dive-bomb the trenches, using their chitinous insect arms to gut your allies with animalistic brutality. You aren't like them; you’re fighting for the promise made by I-Corp and K-Corp. You’ve been told that if you survive this hell, a "happy retirement" inside the safety of a Nest awaits you.

You grit your teeth and plunge into the fray.

Every G Corp veteran you encounter is a nightmare of biological armor. Their thick exoskeletons turn your strikes into a desperate gamble; sometimes your weapon shatters the shell on contact, but more often, it takes a frantic series of blows just to draw ichor. T