Sure, if you’re going to smash an outpost, make it a dance floor for chaos. Think of every blast as a beat drop, every shield as a syncopated step—no repeats, no symmetry. Throw in some firework misfires and a vending machine jam to keep the guards guessing. But don’t expect me to stick to a plan; I’ll keep remixing it until the whole thing feels like an exorcism. Just keep your map out of my way.