Quoted By:
The Bulb, in all it's malevolent aggression, refuses to die to the Nanocytic Purgatives and flees the realm of macrobiology to enter the world of meat and flesh and bone and blood, stretching new limbs, moving new trunks, bedecked in armour like the ages and with a weathered surface of dense wood.
And then it sprouts a few more manipulator-tendrils, simply because it can.
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With a soft "fshhh", a high powered blow-torch finishes its work and the ceiling of the elevator cabin drops down. Ropes follow. Ropes and shapes and smoke grenades.
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>ESCAPE PHASE
>THAT MEANS YOU LOT
>THAT BULB-TREE LOOKS AGGRESSIVE!
>IT HAS MULTIPLE ARMS! BE CAREFUL!
