The mist had slowed, curling around Isono like the breath of something ancient, waiting. She stood frozen, her body trembling, her breath shallow. The massive white snake coiled before her, its body undulating with a slow, deliberate grace. Its head lifted, and for a moment, it regarded her—not with hunger, not with malice, but with something far more unsettling: stillness.
It moved then, not in a rush, but with the precision of a predator that had hunted for eons. Its massive, serpentine head tilted toward her, its eyes—glowing with an unnatural luminescence—locking onto hers. Isono felt the weight of its gaze, and for the first time since arriving in this world, she felt something beyond fear.
This can't be real, she thought, her mind racing. I was just walking down the street.
The snake's body tensed, its muscles coiling tighter, preparing to strike. Isono's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She wanted to run, to scream, to do anything to escape the suffocating silence that had settled between them. But her legs would not move.
Then, something changed.
Her gaze met the snake's. It was as if she stared into its very soul. The snake shuddered, its massive form recoiling ever so slightly, as though it had felt something it was never meant to feel.