"You know what the truly beautiful part is?" she said, lifting him by the throat with one hand. "I'm still going easy on you, precious. This is mother being gentle with her new acquisition."
Her smile was radiant, maternal, and absolutely terrifying.
"But if you keep struggling, I might have to get serious. And trust me, darling—you really don't want to see mother when she's serious."
The processing center had become a graveyard of twisted metal and sparking electronics. Every surface bore the scars of their one-sided battle, but Noah was beginning to understand something crucial—this wasn't a tactical engagement anymore. This was survival. Pure, desperate, animalistic survival.
'Stop thinking like a soldier. Start thinking like someone who wants to live through the next ten seconds.'
