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The proof is undeniable. I don’t even need to say it out loud. One look at my body tells the story. You’re not serving at my feet anymore. You’re claimed. Consumed. Reduced to nothing but a presence beneath my skin as I admire myself and laugh at how far you’ve fallen. I remind you that this is exactly where you belong, not seen, not heard, and certainly not useful in the outside world. I mock you for squirming, for resisting, for pretending there’s still a way out. There isn’t. You were always more valuable this way, fueling me, elevating me, contributing to my glow instead of failing me over and over again on the outside. I tell you to be still, to accept it, because now I own you completely. You don’t serve me anymore. You exist for me. And this time, there’s no escape. You’ve officially been dismissed… and devoured.