The amber liquid touched his lower lip, and Osa closed his eyes, too terrified to watch his own death approach.
But instead of surrender, something deeper stirred within him. Not panic, not his usual fight-or-flight response, but a strange calm born from absolute desperation. If struggling made it worse, if movement brought death closer, then maybe the answer was the opposite of everything his nature told him to do.
Osa let his body go completely limp.
It was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to thrash, to swim, to fight with everything he had. His muscles trembled with the effort of remaining motionless as the amber substance lapped at his mouth. But he forced himself to breathe slowly through his nose, to let his arms float at his sides, to become as still as stone.
