The rave was over, but Meduza’s pulse was now a part of him.
"Don't look at the booth," a girl whispered in his ear, her voice barely audible over the roar. "If you lock eyes with the rhythm, you’ll never leave."
As the final beat dropped and the room faded to a ringing silence, Leo stood perfectly still. His heart was still racing, but his mind was calm. He looked down at his hands, expecting to see gray stone. Instead, he just saw the faint glow of a neon stamp on his wrist—a serpent coiled in a circle.