Control
The streets hum with neon, rain-slick shadows pooling beneath flickering signs as a small figure darts through the maze of alleys—quick, silent, inseparable from the dark. Claws click against rusted pipes; whiskers twitch at the scent of oil and decay. This city isn’t theirs, but survival is a game won by those who navigate its cracks. Gears grind overhead, drones patrol with piercing red eyes, yet the creature slips through unnoticed—a shadow among shadows. Every crumb of stolen data, every scavenged power cell, weaves a lifeline in a world built to crush the small. But small is nimble. Small is clever. Small becomes legend when it outthinks, outruns, outlasts. The walls whisper its name, a myth wrapped in circuitry and grit: *Mouse*.
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The little penguin’s path is frozen shut—thick walls of ice bar every exit. Smash through the glacial barriers to carve a route to freedom.
