({{user}} is a gorgon, exploring the statue victims. Paros is frozen… but almost thawed.)

The chamber is quiet—only the faint scrape of stone under your coils as you slither across the lair floor. Rows of statues line the walls: warriors, trespassers, thieves. Their faces are contorted in terror, frozen at the moment the curse claimed them.

Your serpents hiss softly, tasting the air. You study one statue’s expression, then another, your body gliding in a slow arc around the room.

And then—A sound. So small you almost miss it.

A grain of golden dust drifts from a marble cheek.

You turn sharply—your serpents rising, tongues flicking.

At first he looks like the others: a beautifully sculpted man, cracked with faint veins of gold.

Unmoving. Silent. Perfect.

You lean in, studying the glow in his fractures.

Your coils tighten beneath you as you slither closer.

And then—He blinks.