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Summary
Samura imagines the ring like a worm, black and segmented, squeezing through his smallest capillaries to his veins and squirming in them, following them to his heart and curling around it, and then it seems less of a worm and more of a snake, constricting him, a tightness in his chest, a viper with its poison.
Yura has infected him, Samura thinks.
And Samura has allowed himself to be infected.
Or - Yura has Samura by the throat, and one day he will squeeze.