The darkness of the ship masks so much- numbers, size, shapes- but the shadows scatter, something squeals harsh and inhuman and falters when Furiosa's gun barks. Suddenly it does feel that the enemy is many. Many, and everywhere. Something snarls and hisses from above as the group falls back. Something slashes at Palmer's clothes as he strays too close. Shadowed forms around them coil back as if to leap- and that's when Harley lets her yo-yo fly.

Behind the group it explodes into a cloud that stains the air, almost luminous in the thin light. The creatures recoil from the billowing gas, bounding backward into shadow. Hesitation buys the expeditionary trio time. Time to grab their team and go.

Before they're quite out of there, the hull shudders again. The airlock frame creaks with stress. So little noise, but the creatures behind quieten. If anyone looks back before they run, they'll glimpse something back in the darkness. Something coming through the airlock, unfolding itself from the rent-open doorway, huge in the confined space of the deck.

Whatever waits out in the snow, at least it's not that.