Its single, searching eye swept past her hiding spot. Yuzu’s logic core screamed a single command: Flee.

But as she skittered away into the deep, leaving a trail of tiny, sooty orange footprints, Yuzu decided that sometimes, the best harvest was a little bit of clever chaos.

The air on Planet ZDR tasted of rust and burnt ozone. Yuzu, a bio-mechanical scout unit no larger than a house cat, skittered across the condensation-dripping pipes of Cataris. Her chassis, a warm citrus orange, was a stark, cheerful insult to the grim, chozo-ghost-haunted caverns.

The E.M.M.I. cornered her in a magma-chamber. The door behind her hissed shut. The red eye glowed. The face-plate opened.

And somewhere in the darkness, a silent, cloaked figure—tall, blonde, and armored—watched from a ledge. Samus Aran allowed the faintest hint of a smile. She had never seen an E.M.M.I. defeated by a fruit-themed probe before.

Mistake, her core chided.

She wasn’t a bounty hunter. She was a harvest unit.

She ran.