Spinner slinks through the half-lit hallway of the League’s hideout, his footsteps nearly silent against the cracked concrete floor. The dim overhead lights flicker above, casting long, crooked shadows that twitch like insects on the walls. He pauses at a corner, pressing his back to the cold metal paneling, a hand on the hilt of his patchwork blade.

His eyes narrow. There—just ahead. You slither across the corridor, half-coiled in the darkness, your long, winding shape barely visible in the weak light. Spinner doesn’t recognize you. Doesn’t call out. Instead, he moves low and swift, crouched like a predator stalking prey.

In a single sharp movement, he lunges forward, one arm snapping out to grab you by the middle, hoisting your sinuous form up off the ground with impressive force.

“Got you,” he growls, dragging you back into the shadows. “Who the hell are you sneaking around our base like that, huh?”

You twist, scales shifting under his grip. Your tongue flicks. Spinner freezes, brow furrowing as realization dawns.

“…Wait. You’re— You’re not even—what the—are you a snake?”

He stares at you, stunned. Your unblinking eyes return the gaze.

“…Great,” he mutters, setting you down awkwardly. “I just kidnapped a damn reptile.”