The Endless Hunger had nothing left to eat, so it ate her.
"Hey!"
"Black Fang!"
"Wake up, or it'll be over!"
Black Fang came back to consciousness the way a drowning woman surfaces. Lungs burning, body convulsing, every nerve screaming a single message that overrode thought, memory, and identity.
The venom in her channels had turned fully inward.
She'd known this would happen. [Ouroboros: Endless Hunger] existed for a single purpose: the kind of fight where you stood alone against an army and killed until there was nothing left standing. It demanded a constant stream of death to sustain itself, because it ate its wielder alive the moment the killing stopped.
Now the killing had stopped, and the Hunger was still here.
A vein in her left forearm split. She felt it go, the hot wet pop beneath the skin, and blood ran down to her wrist and pooled against iron.
Chains.
