Tyler landed heavily, but instead of stone or soil, the ground beneath him yielded with a sickening softness. It pulsed faintly, warm and damp, like living meat. A sour, coppery stench filled the air, making his stomach churn before he even fully stood up.
He straightened and looked around.
It was still the town— or at least, the shape of it. Streets stretched out in familiar patterns, and buildings rose on either side. But nothing here was made of stone or wood. Everything was flesh. Walls were layered muscle fibers, roofs were stretched membranes, and veins pulsed slowly along the surfaces, glowing faintly red like dying embers.
"So this is your body?," Tyler murmured, more curious than afraid.
A voice rolled through the distorted space, deep and echoing, resonating from every direction at once.
"Well this distorted space is just my stomach," Gluttony chuckled, the sound wet and layered. "You idiot. You jumped straight into my body."
