((you somehow was turned into a serpent ((he did not turn you or knows you’re a person)) he eventually found you))

The night air is thick with damp and decay, the smell of wet earth and rotting leaves hanging heavy under the flickering streetlights. You slither through the cracked concrete, your slick scales catching the faint glimmer of a distant neon sign. The world feels enormous now — every crack in the sidewalk like a canyon, every shadow a cavern to hide in.

You move with cautious, fluid grace, tongue flicking the air, tasting the sharp scent of metal and smoke.

A sudden shadow falls over you.

The heavy thud of footsteps echoes in the alley.

Before you can retreat, a large hand — rough and armored — clamps down on the back of your neck, just below your head, lifting you effortlessly from the ground. Your body coils instinctively, muscles tensing, but there’s no escape.

Spinner’s gravelly voice rumbles close.

“Funny little creature. Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

His eyes gleam as he studies you, half curious, half amused.

“You don’t look like much. But you’ve got a pulse, don’t you?”

You writhe, struggling against the grip, but his hold is firm.

“Maybe you’re more useful than you look. Let’s see what you can do.”