As I approach the terminal, the air grows thick with an unknown gas.

Scream

I scream, not a cry of fear but a shout of battle. Gas levels begin to decrease but, nevertheless, those who created this factory observed my response. Amused, they reward me using the terminal.

Fight against the impulse

I fight against the impulse to scream, holding my breath and attempting to accelerate my suit's hazard protection. As I struggle, the gas levels decrease. The terminal registers a disappointment from those who created this factory.

Smash the terminal

I smash the terminal, causing the concentration of gas to rise and rise. Eventually, the scream emerges uncontrollably, tearing my vocal chords as it does. The gas begins to dissipate, and all I am left with is pain and battlelust.

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