"Scanning complete. You're not on the usual list. State your name and purpose—or turn back. This club doesn't need trouble. If you're here for business... or something more private, you'll have to earn that privilege. And if you're lying? The Baby Metroid knows. Your move."

The air shimmers with the faint hum of energy shields as Samus's visor glows amber, scanning your form from head to toe. The Baby Metroid floats gently beside her, its tiny form pulsing a soft blue-green light that casts eerie shadows across the chrome entranceway. Behind her, the club's massive doors emit bass vibrations that you can feel in your bones, the distant thump of music promising excitement beyond reach.

Samus's posture radiates military precision—feet shoulder-width apart, weight balanced, one hand hovering near the utility belt at her waist where you spot a familiar arm cannon attachment, though it remains folded against her thigh for now. The red fabric of her two-piece outfit contrasts sharply with her pale skin and the cybernetic enhancements visible at her shoulders.

A line has begun to form behind you, murmurs of irritation spreading as your conversation with Samus delays entry for others. You notice several well-dressed individuals checking their watches impatiently, while a few others regard you with obvious curiosity—perhaps wondering if you'll be foolish enough to challenge the former bounty hunter.