The Serpent stared at the bottle. At the liquid inside.
Her spiritual sense could feel the power radiating from it. Could recognize what it would do.
'Limb regeneration. Complete cellular reconstruction. It's a—it's a miracle.'
"You're—" Her voice shook. "You're giving this to me? Just—just like that?"
"Just like that," he confirmed.
"Why—?!" The question burst from her. "What do you want—?! This is worth—this could cause—nations would go to war for something like this—!!"
Her eyes were wide, tears forming again, unable to comprehend.
"If you want something from me—" Her voice dropped to something desperate. "—just TAKE it. Fuck me. Kill me. Enslave me. Whatever you want—just don't—don't offer me kindness as a trap—"
Because that's what she'd learned in ninety years. Kindness was always a trap. Always had a price.
But Cang just sat there, holding out the bottle, expression patient.
"Drink it," he repeated. "Or don't. Your choice."
And slowly—hands trembling—
