PREVIEW

... sprayed into the air turns out to be an entire colony of semi-liquid grasping hands. They flutter through the air before raining down onto the ground. I get a particularly bad feeling about these hands, so I flex my legs and use an empowered dash to get the heck out of there.

Instead of landing on my carapace, the wriggling hands land on the floor of the tunnel, and that's where the true grossness is revealed. Like writhing noodles topped with a grasping claw, they latch onto the ground ...

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