Chapter 45
Dax carried the massive serpent corpse with effortless grace, the thirty-five-foot body dangling from one hand like a child's forgotten toy. The sheer size of it should have looked comical—scales still glistening with residual venom, coils dragging faint furrows in the grass—but on him it seemed almost natural, as though gravity itself had agreed to lighten the load.
With a gentle, almost casual swing of his arm, he fed the carcass into the waiting black hole. The void swallowed it without protest, edges rippling like dark water as the serpent disappeared inch by inch, trunk, head, tail—gone.
Dax lowered himself to the ground in a perfect lotus position. Both hands extended forward, palms open toward the singularity. His gaze pierced straight into its heart, unblinking, unflinching.
"I can see," he whispered.
