The coastline looked like someone had tried to erase it with the world's angriest eraser. Where David had expected to find the remains of civilization - the bones of beachfront property and tourist traps - there was only water. The ocean had claimed its territory with brutal efficiency, leaving behind a landscape that bore little resemblance to any maps he might have remembered.

"Well shit," he muttered, banking into a wide circle to survey the damage. "Guess beach front property really did turn out to be a bad investment."

Waves lapped at shores that shouldn't have existed, having carved new beaches from what had probably been suburban sprawl. The water stretched much further inland than he remembered, creating a drowned world where the tops of buildings poked through the surface like rotten teeth. Here and there, the skeletal remains of high-rises jutted from the waves, their lower floors lost beneath waters that had risen what looked like several hundred feet.

Captain chirped questioningly from nearby, the tiny creature's confusion bleeding through their mental link. David couldn't blame them - even to someone who hadn't known the 'before' times, something about this view felt fundamentally wrong.

"See those dark shapes under the water?" David gestured with a wing toward where waves broke over submerged structures. "That used to be where people lived. Before the ocean decided to go house hunting."

The morning sun painted everything in shades of gold and blue, but even that beautiful light couldn't quite hide the wrongness of what lay beneath. Strange shapes moved in the deeper waters, things that were definitely not standard marine life by any definition. Something that might have been a shark - if sharks had started accessorizing with extra fins and what looked suspiciously like tentacles - breached the surface briefly before vanishing back into the depths.

David's ears swiveled constantly, tracking sounds that didn't quite match his memories of what oceans should sound like. The waves themselves seemed different - harder somehow, more vigorous in their crash against the shore. And underneath it all, a deep thrumming that he could feel in his bones.

"Right," he said, climbing higher to get a better view. "Step one - find somewhere that isn't completely..." He trailed off as his Echolocation picked up something unusual. The pulse bounced back wrong, creating patterns that shouldn't have been there. "What the hell?"

He banked toward the anomaly, keeping altitude as he investigated. The sound-picture slowly resolved into something that made his fur stand on end - an intricate network of strands suspended between what remained of several buildings, nearly invisible to the naked eye but lighting up like neon in his Echolocation.

Well that's either really good news or really bad news. Probably bad, because when is it ever good?

David landed on a relatively stable-looking chunk of concrete, keeping a healthy distance from the nearest visible strand. The webbing caught the morning light in ways that made his instincts scream warnings - too subtle, too perfect in its placement. This wasn't the work of some mindless creature.

He searched the ground until he found what he was looking for - a piece of rebar just long enough to serve as a poking stick. The first experimental prod was almost anticlimactic. The strand bent slightly under the pressure but held firm, glistening with something that definitely wasn't morning dew. David watched, fascinated, as the liquid seemed to flow along the fiber, spreading outward from the point of contact.

"Okay, that's definitely toxic," he muttered, noting how the rebar's tip had started discoloring slightly where it touched the strand. "Question is, what kind of- wait, what's it doing now?"

The disturbed section of web had begun to vibrate, sending ripples through connected strands that spread outward like rings in a pond. Each wave carried that strange liquid further, until entire sections of the network gleamed wickedly.

His ears suddenly swiveled toward movement - something large but impossibly quiet, approaching from his blind spot. The spider's question died in their throat as David turned to face them fully. Eight legs reared up instinctively, front pairs raised in a defensive threat display that spoke more of startled fear than actual aggression. David internally winced - he kept underestimating his whole 'first impression factor'.

"I'm David," he offered carefully, keeping his voice light as those raised legs trembled slightly. "And I'm a lot less scary than I look. Promise."

Through their mental link, he quickly directed the Cuddlebugs into what he'd decided to call the 'maximum adorable protocol.' Captain, ever the overachiever, immediately dove down with what had to be the most bedraggled flower David had ever seen.

"Sorry about that," David offered, keeping his voice carefully light while watching those raised legs. "I know I come off a bit... intense. I promise I mostly just look like murder incarnate. Mostly."

The tiny Cuddlebug landed between them, pushing the flower toward the spider with an almost aggressive display of cuteness. The spider's posture shifted slightly, multiple eyes tracking between David's nightmarish form and the tiny ball of fluff now doing its best to steal the show.

"That's... surprisingly disarming," the spider managed, legs lowering fractionally. "Though I notice your tiny ambassador brought a flower from my own warning markers."

"Yeah, Captain's kind of an improviser." David kept his wings loose, carefully non-threatening. "They're also way better at diplomatic first impressions than I am. Which, given..." He gestured at his general everything, "probably not hard."

"Dr. Harrison," the spider offered after a moment. "Though these days most just call me Doc." A pause, then, "I don't suppose you have a good explanation for why you were poking at my perimeter?"

"Honestly? The sparkly one caught my eye. Like murder tinsel." David's ears perked up with genuine curiosity. "Quick question - does that stuff do the, uh..." He made a vague grabbing motion with his wing, then caught himself. "Sorry, that probably sounded... less professional than you're used to. Just... really excited about how neat your setup is."

Doc's multiple eyes glimmered in sequence, clearly reassessing the situation. "You're... a toxin specialist?"

"I mean, I shut things down really effectively?" David shrugged, surprised at how civil the whole conversation had been so far. "Which sounds worse out loud than in my head, but you know what I mean. Your setup though..." He gestured at the web network with genuine respect. "That's artwork. Mine's more like area denial. Gets the job done, but way less precise."

"A toxin specialist," Doc repeated, legs settling into a more relaxed position as David's demeanor continued to offset his appearance. "One that describes complex reactions as...'" They made a vaguely incredulous grabbing motion with one of their legs.

"Hey, I know what I'm doing," David protested as his ears swiveled grumpily to the sides, then paused. "I just... don't always know what it's called. Or why it works. But it definitely works."

Captain chose that moment to zip back up to David's shoulder, chirping proudly about their successful flower delivery. The rest of the Cuddlebugs remained high above, turning their patrol into something that looked more like aerial tag.

"That strand you were so fascinated by," Doc shifted into what was clearly a practiced stance. "It's actually part of a rather elegant combination. The base compound triggers widespread clotting, but that's just the foundation."

David's ears perked forward with genuine interest. "Multiple stages?"

"Indeed. Though I suspect you'd find the end result reminiscent of your approach." Doc's tone carried a hint of dry amusement. "The secondary compound causes extensive blistering - chemical burns that create entry points for the primary toxin. Once it takes hold..."

"Everything starts bleeding and clotting at the same time?" David's expression shifted to something far more focused, the kind of attention he usually reserved for combat. "That's actually brilliant. Brutal, but brilliant."

"The victim essentially breaks down from the inside out," Doc explained, legs moving in precise gestures that somehow conveyed complex chemical reactions. "Blood vessels rupture while simultaneously trying to clot, organs begin to fail as their blood supply becomes... compromised."

"Huh." David's ears twitched thoughtfully. "And here I've just been focusing on making things melt faster. Though..." He paused, then blurted out with the kind of earnest curiosity usually reserved for children asking about dinosaurs, "Would you be willing to tell me how you mix different effects like that? Not the Mutagen part obviously, but like... the principle? I mean, if that's not like, a trade secret or anything. Seems like a good trick."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Doc's front legs twitched in what might have been surprised amusement, multiple eyes studying David's openly eager expression. There was something almost endearing about such a terrifying creature practically bouncing with curiosity about chemistry.

"Your delivery method would be entirely different," Doc mused after a moment, professional interest clearly winning out over standard caution. "But the basic theory of isolation and combination... here." Several legs moved in a complex pattern, drawing something in the dust. "Consider it like layering flavors rather than simply increasing potency. Though I admit, I've never actually had someone ask before."

David squinted at the diagram. "So instead of just pumping more murderjuice..."

"'Murderjuice'," Doc muttered under their breath, but continued. "Yes. Think of it as a balancing act."

"Right, right..." David's tongue flicked out thoughtfully.

Multiple eyes blinked in sequence. "Try this - focus on separating just one aspect of your toxin. Something simple, like taste."

David's face scrunched in concentration. After a moment, his eyes widened slightly. "Oh shit, it actually..." He made a face. "Okay, now it tastes like pennies instead of murder-mint. That's weird."

"Murder-mint," Doc repeated flatly. "You know, for someone who just demonstrated a fairly complex chemical isolation, you have a remarkable talent for reducing things to concerning terminology."

"Speaking of concerning things," David said, shifting his wings in what he hoped was a helpful gesture. "Want some advice about your setup here? You know, trade secrets for trade secrets?"

Doc's eyes focused with renewed interest. "You have critiques of my web?"

"I mean... yeah?" David scratched behind one ear. "Like, it's really good! But also kind of obvious from up there if you know what to look for. Aaand I'm kind of an expert at the whole 'surprise, you're dead' thing."

He gestured at a particular arrangement of strands. "See how they catch the light? Really pretty, but that's actually the problem. You want to work with the terrain more, make people look where you want them to. Like..." He paused, trying to find the right words. "You know how magic tricks work by making you watch the wrong hand?"

"Misdirection through intentional visibility," Doc translated, several legs tapping thoughtfully. "Go on."

"Right! Like, see that building there?" David pointed with his wing. "Everyone's going to try to go around it, because duh. But if you make the obvious path look just sketchy enough..." He trailed off meaningfully.

Doc's posture shifted as understanding dawned. "They'll take what appears to be a safer route, directly into the actual trap."

"Exactly! And the best part is, once they start feeling clever about avoiding the 'obvious' area..." David grinned, revealing far too many teeth. "That's when you really get them. Because everyone loves catching a 'mistake'."

"Plus," David continued, warming to the subject, "you've got this great terrain here but you're trying to cover too much of it. Like, those half-collapsed walls? Perfect for creating those angles that make depth perception go all..." He wiggled his wings in what was supposed to be a demonstrative gesture. "You know, fucky."

Doc's front legs made a motion that somehow conveyed academic note-taking. "Using the ruins' natural patterns?"

"Yeah! See, from up there," David pointed skyward, "you get this perfect view of how people have to move through areas. They're going to follow the path of least resistance every time, because that's just what people do. But if you layer right..." He paused, then added with surprising insight, "The real trick is making them think they're being careful while they walk right into it."

Several of Doc's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You're considerably more tactical than your vocabulary would suggest."

"Thanks! I think." David's ears flicked as he processed the comment. "Wait, was that an insult? That felt like it might have been an insult."

"An observation," Doc corrected, though there was definite amusement in their tone. "Though I admit, your expertise in ambush is... unexpectedly thorough."

"Well yeah, that's like the one thing I'm actually good at." David gestured at himself. "Pretty much built for the whole 'death from above' thing. Speaking of which..." He pointed to another section of webbing. "If you move those strands left, they'll be practically invisible until it's way too late. Especially if you're running for your life."

"Speaking of running for your life," David said, glancing toward the ocean, "don't suppose you know if there's a safe way across all... that?" He gestured at the waves with a wing. "Because I'm getting some serious 'here there be monsters' vibes from whatever's swimming out there."

Doc's posture shifted subtly, several eyes tracking toward the water. "Depends on your definition of 'safe.' The Rifle-fish tend to stay below two hundred feet unless they're hunting, but-"

"I'm sorry," David cut in, ears pinned flat. "Did you just say Rifle-fish? Please tell me that's not exactly what it sounds like."

"Oh no," Doc's tone dripped sarcasm. "It's much worse than what you're thinking. Imagine if someone gave a barracuda a high-powered speargun for a face. Then made it angry."

David stared at the waves for a long moment. "You know what? I was going to say 'you're fucking with me' but honestly? That tracks with how my week is going." He squinted at a splash in the distance. "They're not even the worst thing out there, are they?"

"Not by several orders of magnitude," Doc confirmed. "The deep water make the coast look positively friendly, or so I've been told. Though if you can maintain serious altitude..." They paused, studying David's expression. "You have to cross, don't you?"

"Yeah." David's tone made it clear that particular subject wasn't up for discussion. "Though I'm starting to think I should have packed a bigger boat. Or like, a submarine. With really thick walls."

Doc's front legs tapped against the concrete in what David was starting to recognize as their thinking gesture. "You know," they said carefully, "there might be a slightly less suicidal option than trying to sprint across open water."

"I'm listening," David replied, trying not to look too eager. "Especially if it doesn't involve me becoming fish food."

"There's someone who operates a sort of... transit service, you could say." Several of Doc's eyes tracked another distant splash. "Much safer than trying to fly solo, especially with your little ones in tow."

David glanced up at his remaining Cuddlebugs, who had graduated from aerial tag to what looked like synchronized diving practice. "Yeah, probably not great to have them as snack-sized distractions out there. This friend of yours trustworthy?"

"About as trustworthy as anyone gets these days," Doc offered diplomatically. "And considerably more prepared for deep water encounters than most. Though I should warn you - they can be a bit... particular about new people."

"Let me guess," David's ears flattened slightly. "The whole 'terrifying nightmare bat' thing might be an issue?"

"Actually," and David could have sworn Doc was trying not to laugh, "I think they'll find your particular aesthetic a non-issue. It's more about proving you're not going to cause problems. They're quite protective of their operation."

"Fair enough." David nodded, then added with a grin, "I promise to keep the scary pointed at whatever tries to eat us, not the boat."

"Somehow both reassuring and concerning," Doc mused. "I can make an introduction, if you'd like. Though I have to ask..." They paused, several eyes studying David carefully. "Whatever's driving you to cross isn't going to bring trouble back this way, is it?"

David's expression sobered. "No. Well, probably not. Okay, maybe, but not the kind you're thinking of." He sighed. "Look, I just need to find someone. Important someone. That's all."

"Ah." Doc's tone carried a wealth of understanding, and David appreciated that they didn't push further. "Well then, let me at least point you in the right direction. Your important someone won't be helped by you becoming fish food."

"Yeah," David agreed, ears still drooping slightly. "Though I have to say, the whole rifle-fish thing really puts a damper on the whole dramatic rescue vibe I was going for. Kind of hard to look cool while screaming 'oh god it's got a face gun' at the top of your lungs."

That got an actual laugh from Doc, a sound that somehow reminded David of wind chimes. "I think I'm starting to understand why my usual warnings haven't scared you off. You've got an... interesting perspective on danger."

"More like danger has an interesting perspective on me," David shrugged, then brightened. "Oh hey, speaking of perspective - one last trap tip before I go? Those support beams over there would make amazing anchor points if you..."

"You're procrastinating," Doc noted dryly, though several eyes tracked toward the indicated beams with clear interest.

"Maybe a little," David admitted. "But also, free advice from someone who spends way too much time thinking about how to murder things from above. Consider it a thank you for not immediately trying to fight me when I showed up."

Captain chose that moment to zip down with another flower, this one significantly less bedraggled than their first offering. Doc accepted it with the same careful precision as before, adding it to what David now noticed was a small collection.

"Your tiny friend is quite persistent," Doc observed, arranging the flower with the other.

"Yeah, they're..." David watched his tiny companion return to the aerial show above. "They're good at reminding me that sometimes the scary looking ones just need a chance."

"Speaking of chances," Doc shifted slightly, gesturing toward a particularly stable-looking building near the water. "My contact usually makes dock there, just after sunset. Tell them Webb sent you - they'll know what it means."

"Thanks," David said, genuinely grateful. "For everything. The toxin stuff, the travel tip, not immediately assuming I was going to eat you..."

"Yes, well." Doc's legs made a dismissive gesture. "Your terminology may be concerning, but your tiny entourage makes quite the character reference." They paused, then added with clear amusement, "Though I do hope you'll work on that approach."

"Hey, my approach is very sophisticated, thank you very much." David spread his wings, preparing to take flight. "Though I might experiment with that blood thing. You know, for special occasions."

The Cuddlebugs descended in a coordinated spiral, taking up their usual positions around him. Captain made one final diving pass to drop a third flower in front of Doc before zipping up to David's shoulder.

"Your contact," David asked as an afterthought, "anything I should know about them? Besides the whole 'particular about new clients' thing?"

"Oh, you'll know them when you see them," Doc's tone carried a hint of mischief that made David's ears twitch nervously. "Just try not to stare. They're a bit sensitive about the tentacles."

"The what now?"

But Doc was already retreating into their web network, leaving David to contemplate exactly what kind of boat ride he was signing up for. Through the mental link, Captain projected an emotion that somehow managed to combine 'adventure' with 'mild concern.'

"Yeah buddy," David sighed, launching himself into the air. "I'm starting to think this rescue mission might need its own rescue mission."

Below them, the waves continued their crash against the shore, and something that definitely wasn't a normal fish breached the surface in the distance. David could have sworn it waved at him.

Well, at least things can't get any weirder.

The universe, as usual, took that as a challenge.