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It's the hissing that worries me this time.

Usually worth it, though. Not just the hissing, but the wind chill, the shrieking of bats, the clumsily-animated skeletons that throw themselves at fireballs. If anything, things like this are a sign that there's still something of value here.

"Here" being the Temple of the Serpent God, or so this would-be ancient map calls it. You can never be too careful when dealing with ancient ruins and the tales thereof. It seems equally likely that this ancient map in my hands is just a piece of parchment that someone left in the oven for a few minutes and then proceeded to drip tea on for that authentic "aged document" feeling.

But there's merit to this map, I think. Because of all the hissing.

I'm standing in a massive room, a light cantrip at the end of my walking stick, at the edge of a pool of darkness. Somewhere down below this ledge, there's even more hissing sounds.

It's important to take your time when exploring ruins, or else you might be the kind of person who doesn't realize the ground simply stops after a certain point. And then you might end up hanging off a ledge for what are surely the last few seconds of your life.

The rest of the room, and the ruin itself, sticks very closely to the serpent theme in its decor and function. There are bas relief carvings that line the walls, featuring all sorts of serpentine designs: ouroboros, cobra hoods, spirals, you name it. Particularly disturbing are the serpents depicted with gems in their eyes, reflecting light in a way that keeps making me think there's a naga around the corner.

Then again, the last recorded sighting of a gorgon, two hundred years ago, was barely a half-mile from this temple. They could still be lurking here for all I know. Best to take things nice and slow.

It quickly becomes obvious that the only way to proceed is down into the hissing darkness.

I send some dancing lights down to give me an idea of the distance to the ground and reveal any surprises that the hissing could have in store for me. I swallow back some unease as dozens-maybe even hundreds-of snakes dart away from the lights. After some careful observation, it's clear that the snakes won't go near anything bright.

With a flourish of my hand, I dismiss the dancing lights. I need something a little less erratic for my purposes this time. Another few castings of the vanilla light spell and I'm positively glowing. Mostly because of the lights that I've attached to my head, gloves, and boots. Though my personality probably helps.

Then, I fish a small wand of featherfall out of my bag and give it a wave. And with one carefully planned and executed jump, I sink down in mid-air until my feet make contact with the ground. The hissing surrounds me, but none of these serpents dare to try and strike.

Not only that, they seem to have organized themselves in a circle around me-except for one clear path. Like a parting of waters, the blank space between the writhing masses of snakes leads further into a ruin. Somewhere brighter than the room I'm in now. Perhaps even by torchlight.

If there's a monster's lair down here, that's sure to be it.

I step forward as if on thin ice, sure to keep my feet silent and my breathing controlled.

The snakes-and the hissing-eventually fade behind me, and I find myself peeking around a corner into a grand hall of sorts. Dozens of lit torches line the walls, keeping it perfectly bright. A moth-eaten carpet leads from my corner to a grand throne, the top of which flows into the sculpted head and hood of a cobra with bright purple amethysts laid into its eyes.

But the most curious thing about this room is that there's an orc sitting cross legged before a ritual magic circle, slowly working on a spell. He's smaller than the average orc, but no less thick or bulky. He's covered in the gear of a thief or assassin, except the sleeves have been ripped off. Likely because they couldn't contain his massive arms.

And he looks like he's concentrating very hard, because he's squinting with one eye closed and his tongue idly poking out the side of his lips.

I watch him for a little while longer, to make sure that he's not an illusion or some kind of trap. But no, he moves on from his current segment of the circle to the next, carefully drawing the patterns necessary to cast whatever spell he's working on.

I slowly move out from behind the corner and take a few steps toward him. "Hello there," I say in what I hope is a not-too-loud but still loud enough voice and non-threatening timbre.

The orc jumps at the sight of me. "Holy-" He holds up his hand to his eyes and scrambles backwards. "I'm sorry! I swear I didn't mean to defile anything."

It's about now that I realize I'm still lit up like a candelabra at a shrine.

"Oh! So sorry," I say. A few pat-downs and some verbal cues extinguish all the lights on my body. The orc seems to relax.

"Oh, you're human," he says, letting out a sigh that wishes it was a laugh. "Wait, then how did you get in here if the door was closed?"

"Door? I didn't see a-"

THUD.

I look back behind me. The passageway I just entered through has been closed off by a massive stone door with no obvious means of opening it.

"Oh. That door."

The orc stands up with a grunt. "Well at least I was too startled to get my hopes up." He steps over and reaches his hand out. "Brexothuruk. But you can just call me Brex."

He's much bigger up close. Still several inches taller than me, and his hand is nearly twice the size of mine. But I grip it anyways and give it a good squeeze. "Call me Vinden," I say.

He smiles. "You're pretty meaty for a human, kind of rare to see. You'd make a half-decent orc."

"You don't know the half of it," I say.

"You a wizard or something?" he asks.

"Sorcerer," I say, trying not to sound like I'm correcting him. "Why? Are you a wizard?"

But his eyes light up with excitement. "A sorcerer? I'm a sorcerer too!" he says with glee before his expression droops a bit. "Well, I was. But still, I haven't met another sorcerer in ages!" He leans forward. "H-hey, do you think you can help me with something?"

"Probably?" I say.

He nods and then rushes over to his magic circle, the one he was working on before I interrupted him. "I'm trying to make a dimension door to get out of here after I fell in the snake pit. And got chased in this room." He looks over at me and blushes. "And the door closed behind me."

I walk over to his display. It's not half bad, at a glance. I don't know where this orc learned his magic, but it's clear this isn't the first time he's cast a spell as a ritual. "Want me to have a closer look? Check your work?"

"Oh that'd be great!" Brex says. "Whenever I get my work peer reviewed, I always get nervous though."

I smile. "Don't worry, I'm not grading you."

He reaches back and rubs his neck. "Th-thanks. I'm, uh..." He clearly looks uncomfortable with me so close to his work. "I'll see if there's another way to open that door." He chuckles awkwardly and walks toward it.

I heave a sigh and kneel in front of the magic circle, checking his work. It starts out all right, but it's pretty clear that he has dimension door and hold portal mixed up somehow. It seems like he has the markings so thoroughly confused that there was never a chance it'd work. And he even threw in some elements of charm person somehow.

A shiver runs down my spine.

My shadow casts itself over a portion of the circle, but it's bigger than it should be. There's someone...something standing behind me. Crouching over me.

The moment I move, something sharp and hot sinks into my neck and shoulder.

I scream, pushing myself forward and scattering the loose chalk and dust from the circle into a fog that surrounds me and my attacker.

That grip on my shoulder releases and I scramble away from the thing behind me, trying not to cough as I inhale chalky debris. I put my arm to my shoulder and feel warm blood flowing from the wound.

I look back at my attacker and see him emerge from shadow.

It's Brex, but he's different now. Very different.

Naked, his feet and hands covered in glittering scales, horns sprouting from his forehead, chest hair flowing down toward his legs. Some manner of wings flow out from behind him, framing him like every other cobra in this ruin. His thick legs frame a large labia. His eyes like sparkling amethysts. A prehensile, serpentine tail whipping out behind him.

"Do try to stay calm," he says, his voice almost an octave lower and much more coy. "This next part is much more enjoyable if you cooperate."

I want to spring to my feet, but I feel lethargic. My neck and shoulder tingle pleasantly, maybe even going numb.

No. Not like this...

I try to get my feet situated so I can stand, but my movements are going half as far as they should.

"You really are meaty for a human, so this is going to be exceptionally fun." He steps closer to me, towering over me now. The torches seem to dim, but that could just be his shadows sliding over me.

His eyes are so bright. Like precious, magical gems. Of the highest value. I can't take my eyes off such treasure.

"Much better," he says, the tingling starting to spread across my chest. He kneels down, straddling my belly. "Let's get this cleaned up."

What?

He leans forward and reaches down, ripping the shirt off my chest into pieces, dabbing at my wound with it, then tossing it aside. He runs his thumb over the puncture, and it feels uncomfortably pleasant. "Nice and smooth," he says.

The tingling only gets stronger and spreads farther, even up to my face. "What's...what're you doing?" I ask, my mind feeling hazy.

"The Serpent King must rise, Vinden," he says. "And I can't make that happen alone."

Most of my body is numb now, I can feel myself breathing, but everything else is a mess of sensations I don't know how to parse. Brex, finished with my shirt, slides himself back far enough to disrobe me entirely, discarding my clothes like refuse.

"There we go, just need to wait for the rest of you to catch up with your shoulder."

I'm about to protest when it feels like every tingling nerve lights up like greek fire. Not painful, not even pleasurable, just a pure, intense sensation.

It slowly passes over me like a wave. And as it moves up toward my head, I start to understand.

Scales. I'm being covered in scales. Ten minutes ago, I would have panicked at this. But now it feels like something entirely neutral. I want to see what happens next, despite such intense feelings traveling through me.

My fingers start to elongate, giving me reptilian claws. I can't help but smile at how impressive they look.

I turn my gaze to the side when I hear a slithering noise near me. But, beyond my own imagination, I watch locks of my hair slide into each other and form into solid matter. More scales, and at the end of each lock, a single miniature snake head with gentle violet eyes.

Even as one turns to look at me and starts to hiss, I can't help but feel something warm within them. Some instinct to treasure and protect them kicks in. I turn my head back toward Brex, who's now splaying his hands out on my stomach and hip. He smiles, glancing down at my crotch. Instead of the normal human cock I'm used to, there's a slit of sorts, and a dripping length far more monstrous than I could have expected had emerged from it.

Before I can express dismay at this change, Brex reaches down and grips the length, sending a shudder of pleasure through me, mixing and reverberating with the other sensations.

Brex gives my dick a few more strokes and I find myself looking into his eyes again. They feel so comfortable and warm now. He keeps his smile spread as he positions himself over my new cock, gently pushing down onto it.

The pleasure rockets through me and I start feeling like I can extend myself beyond this ruin. Like my mind and body are free from some disgusting prison and I can now finally become my true self. My body feels like it's expanding rapidly. I can no longer tell if I even have two legs.

But I already know this is the best thing to ever happen to me.

Brex starts rolling his hips with my cock inside him, and I can only moan. My scaled hands and claws slide up to his hips, holding him there gently.

My body is growing bigger, more powerful. Arms swelling, chest widening, all as they ought to. I must grow, so that I can reflect my true power. My unwillingness to be contained.

I will stop anyone in their tracks with a single look. Nothing can faze me.

Brex flexes his thighs and tightens his vulva's grip on my dick. I feel a feral spark ignite inside me and I push my hips up into him in the same rhythm.

The chamber is filled with haze and hums with arcane power. In the corner of my eye, I swear there's someone else in the room. Sitting in the throne. Covered in shadow save for two glimmering purple eyes. He stands up.

Another squeeze of my dick pulls my attention back to Brex. This time he's crawling forward, running his hand over my scales. His face mere inches from mine. He leans in and he hisses in my ear.

That hiss reverberates with in me, just like the feeling of the scales appearing and the pleasure from Brex riding me. But instead, it just flows down into my core, making me into something entirely new.

I'm getting closer now. I'm going to explode. Brex knows it too, and he's doing everything he can to make sure it happens.

That figure, that other person in the room. He stands at my head. He kneels down.

I see a lone, reptilian claw enter my vision until it rests itself on my forehead, making contact the moment I feel myself climax.

And for a split second, I only hear the sound of hissing.

Music to my ears.