OUROBOROS

Eat them. They grow you, feed your light, and build your chain.

Always. Faster the longer you are. Hit zero and you gutter out — you cannot stall.

It doesn't kill you — it severs. You lose the length, but the cut segments scatter as embers and the released light floods back into you.

Your own severed body, burning on the floor. Harvest it fast — they hold your chain open, and they don't last.

After a bite the mark under your head goes dark. Touch yourself before it relights and it's an ordinary death.

Phase. Walls wrap, your body is passable, your light stops draining. Sixty ticks of impunity.

They breathe. Open is lethal, closed is a doorway. Learn the rhythm.

Eat again before the window closes to stack the multiplier. The snake runs hotter and brighter as it climbs — watch your own body, not the number.