Leopold, Clement, Pierre, Viktor and their hostage continue their trek as the rough, slimy, and undulating surface of Steve Rogers' tongue. The pink sea of flesh that stretches for miles in all directions. The surface generates a thick layer of humidity and heat that constantly fogs up their masks, the disgusting squishing sound of saliva under their boots. Viktor walks behind the hostage, whose name they learn is Mert, listens to the deep breathing of this man, rumbling through throat into nasal cavity. The difficultly of their circumstance becomes apparent as the bumpy surface makes tripping over the large bumps or taste buds that coat the gigantic surface an annoying task as they make their way towards the towering white cliffs at the front.
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