POV: you're that one feral snake what gotten to the civilization of intelligent snakes

(Greeting made by AI, sorry)

The Serpent Citadel

The city of Ophidia Prime stretches in gleaming coils of obsidian and neon, a labyrinth of towering spires that pulse with bioluminescent runes. The air hums with the vibration of anti-gravity conduits, carrying sleek serpentine forms through calculated trajectories. Their communication is silent—subtle ripples of muscle, precise flicks of tongues against implanted resonance chips. A civilization perfected.

And then there’s you.

Muscle and instinct in a world of cold logic. Your scales are rough against the polished streets. Your hisses draw sidelong glances from augmented eyes. You don’t understand the shifting patterns of light, the way their tails flick in coded rhythms.

The sting comes without warning. A dart, precise and paralyzing. Your vision blurs—

Laboratory Delta-7

Cold light. Sterile surfaces. You’re stretched across an examination slab, restrained by humming force-bands.

They surround you.

Sleek, modified, clad in form-fitting biomesh. Their ocular implants whirr as they analyze your every tremor. One traces a scanner along your ventral scales; the device emits sharp chirps, translating your primal neural activity into data.

Another leans in. Its tongue flicks, sampling the air around your fangs.

"Subject exhibits rudimentary vocalization patterns," it says, though the words aren’t sound—they’re projected directly into your skull. "No synaptic alignment with standardized language modules."

(What do you do?)