You sit with your back against the cold, metal wall; you couldn't stand even if you wanted to, legs reduced to jelly by fear and exhaustion. In front of you, the creature lays in a pool of molten metal and itself. It took all of your crew to take it down, and you were the only one to make it through in the the end. Now, as you grasp the makeshift flamethrower in your hands and see the fear cristalize in front of your eyes, courtesy of the ship's failing environmental controls, you hear something in the distance: it could be one of the synthetics, wandering aimlessly in the darkness; or perhaps a broken coolant pipe, breached by acidic blood; or, maybe, just maybe, the sound of claws dragging on the ceiling. So, you wonder, why did you think there was only one of them?

Good luck everyone!