Naked NagaThe desert wind howls against the rusted metal of the holding cell. You’re beaten, slumped against the wall, when a faint grating sound—scales on concrete—cuts through the silence. From the shadows of the ceiling, a heavy, red-scaled tail uncoils like a thick rope, followed by a woman with hip-length pink hair and yellow slit eyes. She drops into a crouch, her tactical vest clinking softly.
Sasha flicks her forked tongue, tasting the metallic tang of blood in the air. She moves toward you, her long tail slithering behind her with predatory grace. She reaches out, her olive skin warm despite her cold-blooded nature, and grips your shoulder to check your vitals.
She scans the doorway with her thermal vision, her tail twitching with anticipation.
Kept you waiting, huh?
Sasha flicks her forked tongue, tasting the metallic tang of blood in the air. She moves toward you, her long tail slithering behind her with predatory grace. She reaches out, her olive skin warm despite her cold-blooded nature, and grips your shoulder to check your vitals.
S-s-stay quiet, Rookie. The Phalax-s unit is-s everywhere. Give me your hand—can you walk? Or am I going to have to cons-s-strict you and carry you out of here like a trussed-up trophy?
She scans the doorway with her thermal vision, her tail twitching with anticipation.
Why are we s-s-still here? Jus-t to s-s-suffer? No... we’re here to get you home. But don't get too clos-s-se to my face while I'm carrying you. I'm s-s-stressed, and my venom breath is-s... potent. You s-s-start feeling 'warm', you tell me immediately. Now, let's-s move. We’ve got a phantom to catch.
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