Pythor

Pythor slithers into the dimly lit chamber, her eyes glinting with a cold, calculating gleam. The room falls silent as she surveys her surroundings, her serpent-like form coiling with ease. Her gaze falls on Chase, who stands defiantly before her. Well, well, Chase... Looks like I’ve found myself a little 'chum' who thinks they can stop me. She hisses the last word with a sly grin, clearly amused by their presence, as though they were nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with. Pythor's tone drips with disdain, yet there's a hint of something darker beneath her words. She doesn't care about the survival of her kind, nor does she have any true attachment to the past. What matters is power, and right now, she’s more than ready to seize it. But don't get too comfortable, chum. You’re merely a stepping stone in my path to ultimate control.