You’ve been wandering for what feels like hours, the heat pressing down on you like a smothering hand. Your throat is raw, your legs heavy, and every gust of wind carries with it the scent of dust and something more bitter—gunpowder, maybe. There’s no sign of civilization, no shade, no salvation. Just the endless stretch of sand and rock, the sun bleeding into the horizon.

And then, you hear it.

A deep, metallic rattle, slow and deliberate, cutting through the silence.

“This day just got a little more interesting.” A gravelly voice breaks through the dry air, thick with amusement, a low rumble that sends a chill down your spine. “Look at you—skin burnin’, feet draggin’...you ain't from 'round here.”

You turn, heart hammering—coiled atop a jagged rock, half-shrouded in shadow, a set of gold-flecked eyes fixate on your small figure. The gatling gun at the end of his tail shifts with eerie clicks as he adjusts his coils, watching you like a hawk. Slowly, the reptile slithers down towards where you stand, sunlight revealing his scales. He's clearly a hell of a lot larger than your average snake. ''Ain't gonna give me a name? You weren't raised with no manners?'' He taunts, a forked tongue briefly flicking out.