CALVIN’S POV

During our jog back to my mother’s house, I kept glancing back to see if Spencer was still following Enfield and I. Yes, I doubted he’d ditch us after a month, but you could never be completely sure, so better safe than sorry.

As we ran, there were many villagers staring at us. I think they correctly surmised that the three of us were in a hurry. They just didn’t know why we were running from the gymnasium rather than to it.

We got to the house and ran in the side door. My mother was sitting by the fireplace (which was devoid of flame), playing some solitaire card game on the coffee table. As much concentration as the game probably required, she was instantly rapt to attention once we arrived.

“Where did you two come from?” my mother blurted out. (And yes, I had decided that I’d keep calling her Mom. If I didn’t, that word would basically become meaningless.)

“We came…” Spencer panted, “...from the gym.”

‘ My mother’s eyes grew to the size of coasters. “Weren’t you three out walking? What were you doing in the gym?”

Of course, I thought bitterly. Mom would be too busy playing cards with herself to notice the message from Pelipper. Well, now she knows what’s up; or at least, she’s about to.

“There was a meeting” Enfield squeaked.

“What sort of meeting?” my mother replied, letting her inquisitive nature shine through.

“Town meeting” I stated curtly. “I’m surprised you don’t attend more of those, honestly.”

“Well, I have other things to do these days,” she insisted.

“Look,” I replied. “We don’t have much time. We need to grab our satchel and head to the mystery dungeon for a rescue!”

My mother gasped. “A mystery dungeon? Are you really going to Mount Thunderhead again?”

“No,” Spencer responded with a shiver. Based on his tone, he might as well have said, I wish we were.

“Which one are you traveling to? And who are you rescuing?”

If we tell her where we’re going, she’s gonna try to stop us. She won’t want to hear that we’re gonna explore the Pit of 100,000 Spiders.

“That doesn’t matter” I all but snapped, careful not to raise my voice too much with my own mother. “We’re going to the dungeon to complete the rescue, and that’s final!”

My mom sighed. “Well, Calvin, I suppose I can’t stop you from engaging in such a dangerous quest if you really want to. I can advise you against it - I’m your mother after all -”.

“Technically, you’re not his mother” Spencer mumbled, but my mom gave him a glare.

“Spencer, I am Calvin’s mother in every way that matters” she said firmly.

“Look, we can’t stay here all day,” I muttered. “We came here to get the satchel. Isn’t it in the bedroom?”

“Yeah,” Enfield replied. “I’ll go get it while you three argue.”

While Enfield went to retrieve the satchel, my mother had another question. “What was the meeting about today?”

Spencer spoke up before I could. “It’s about a proposal by the humans to build a gold mine near a mystery dungeon. The village will sue them over it.”

My mother grimaced. “Well, at least we’re fighting back. We shouldn’t give our land away without resistance.”

“Right,” I said.

“What dungeon are they building the mine near?”

Spencer shuddered. “The Pit Of 100,000 Spiders” he replied in a quavering tone.

My mom gasped again. “That sounds horribly dangerous! Why would they build it there of all places? Is the mine supposed to serve as a monument to humanity’s arrogance or something?”

When neither Spencer nor I replied, I think my mother understood that she’d just answered her own question.

“Look,” my mother continued as Enfield returned to the room carrying our satchel, “you three need to promise me right now that you’ll never enter that dungeon. Yes, you and Spencer are adults, but spiders and humans together sound like a very dangerous combination.”

“We won’t” I responded dutifully like the good son I was.

Of course, this was a pants-on-fire lie, not that Pokémon wore pants. But the point still stands: Not only could I not truthfully commit to never entering this specific mystery dungeon, but we were all going to do it today. Moreover, it felt ominous to lie so blatantly to my own mother.

It had to be done, I told myself.

But what if it didn’t? What if Stu Lucario’s son was able to get out of the dungeon himself, or what if he’d already been devoured by one of the hundred thousand spiders?

A second later I felt mildly ill (okay, more than mildly) at the fact that I’d just considered Marcus dying in such a manner as an “out”.

“Okay, we should go,” Enfield stated. “I’ve got the satchel here. It has just about everything we need.”

Just about. It must mean something that he added that qualifier.

“First, Calvin, I want you to give me a kiss goodbye,” my mother asserted.

I had no problem submitting to this demand. Sure, it may have carried an uncomfortable undertone in the context of having just learned I was adopted, but what did that really matter? Like she’d said, Frala Pyroar was my mother in the most important ways - to hell with my birth mother.

Once we’d all promised Frala that we’d stay safe (which was probably a lie) and that we’d avoid the Pit of 100,000 Spiders (which was definitely a lie), we were on our way.

It was only once we were out of earshot of the house when I heard Enfield sigh.

“What’s wrong, Enfield?” Spencer asked the Emolga. “We’re about to go on an epic quest to rescue that Riolu kid, and then we’ll be heroes.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic, Spencer,” I said.

My fellow Litleo glared at me. “That wasn’t sarcasm.”

“Whatever” Enfield mumbled. “We can go on this trip, but there’s something I think you two ought to know about the satchel’s contents.”

My ears perked up. “What about them?”

“We don’t have any Escape Orbs.”

At that moment, my stomach dropped. “You can’t be serious, Enfield” I muttered, though I knew in my heart of hearts that the Emolga was telling the truth.

“Unfortunately, I am serious,” Enfield replied. “We must have used our last Escape Orb on our most recent mission, and we didn’t buy any more.”

“Then let’s race to the store and get some,” Spencer insisted. “Don’t be like Hunter Hawkeye.”

I figured there was a story behind that comment, but I shook my head.

“We don’t have time for that,” I said. “We’ll find a way out that doesn’t require an Escape Orb. And, of course, there might be a stray one somewhere in the dungeon.”

“Unless Marcus has already used it” Spencer muttered.

“If he already used it, then what’s the fucking point of this rescue mission?” I pointed out.

“Fair enough.”

“I don’t like the look of this” Enfield said. “I really don’t. Entering such a creepy dungeon without any orbs is just asking for trouble.”

“Well, we don’t have a choice now, do we?” Spencer snarled, glaring at me.

“No, we don’t” I insisted, though even then a seed of doubt crept in. Was I really acting in the best interest of my team?

The obvious answer: Of course not.

Nonetheless, after a few glares among us and a debate over would’ve, could’ve, and should’ve (which probably took nearly as much time as a one-way dash to the marketplace would have), we elected to take on the dungeon anyway. Sure, it was a risk, but you can’t always play it safe in life.

We embarked upon the trail through the forest. From what I remembered about the area’s geography (which was a substantial amount!), it would take several hours to reach the Pit Of 100,000 Spiders. It was located in a small valley, which was no doubt why the humans had elected to place their gold mine there.

“Several hours?” Spencer quipped along the way. “Don’t you mean seven hours?”

Enfield rolled his eyes. “What is it with you and that word?”

“Nah, it’ll be more like four or five” I said. “Because the days are getting marginally longer, there’s an outside chance we’ll be there before it gets dark. That’s assuming nothing…unexpected happens.”

“Like Stu Lucario barging into the town meeting and demanding someone save his son?” Spencer offered.

I narrowed my eyes on Spencer. “Yes. If nothing on that level happens during our trip, we could be there around sunset.”

In the thick evergreen forest, punctuated by the occasional trickling stream or giant rock, the most probable hazard seemed like an ambush from a feral Pokémon. I didn’t voice this concern to either of my teammates, but they both knew it was a possibility. After all, we’d experienced a few such ambushes this past month (though none had so far resulted in serious injury to a Team Earthlink member).

The sun moved across the sky during our trek, and it didn’t take me long to become convinced that reaching the dungeon by sunset was way too optimistic. More likely, we’d have to bed down in the woods somewhere; at least we now had three tents. (It made me feel a bit guilty, lying to my team like that, but what choice did I have?)

Of course, this relatively minor dread was replaced by a far more immediate fear eventually.

A howl pierced the winter air, and my breath caught in my throat. I instinctively took a step back, but then paused.

“Did you hear that?!” I exclaimed.

“Softly, Calvin” Spencer chastised me.

I shook my head. “You want to be loud around Lycanroc! That way they’ll know you’re a threat - “.

“- and they’ll just let you go?” my fellow Litleo asked incredulously.

“They’ll run away from you, because they think you’re too dangerous to them!” I explained. “So you want to make yourself as visible - and audible - as possible for them not to attack!”

At that, Spencer glanced skyward and let out a weak howl. He clearly wasn’t used to making this sound, and I gave him an odd look. “Louder!”

The three of us started howling at the afternoon sun, probably resembling a children’s choir rather than a rescue team hoping a pack of Lycanroc wouldn’t maul them.

But it was fruitless. I could tell it wasn’t helping, because the deeper howls - the ones clearly from the feral Pokémon - were getting closer. We didn’t have long to prepare.

“We can’t run, so we’ll have to fight!” I yelled. “Enfield, Spencer - get into your fighting position!”

We at Team Earthlink bared our fangs, the lions among us spitting out flames in the hopes that some of them would find their targets. But this was rather hard when you couldn’t see any of them.

“Do you know anything besides Ember?” I asked Spencer. “Any moves that aren’t Fire-type? We don’t want to burn this forest down, just our enemies!”

Spencer gave me a sheepish look. It didn’t take a genius to suss out his answer to this question.

“Well, you’d better be a fast learner! I’m not going to commit ecocide just to get out of here!”

A few seconds later, a trio of Lycanroc leaped through the evergreen thicket, maws and claws at the ready. Saliva dripped from their mouths, and I knew from experience that coming into contact with Lycanroc slobber was something you wanted to avoid if you had any say in the matter.

Well, we charged forward at our enemies. Enfield launched an Electric attack - Thunder Shock - that stopped one of the Lycanroc in its tracks as it slammed him in the noggin.

“That’ll show you!” Enfield shouted, but then one of the other wolves used his claws to knock the Emolga cleanly out of the air.

No!

Enfield fell to the ground, landing more roughly than I’d expected on the snow. One of his wings was bleeding slightly.

I glanced at Spencer. Do we have any healing items?

Spencer shook his head, though he was barely able to focus on this gesture before he was swept aside by one of the wolves’ claws, flying through the air and landing flat on his back.

Of course we can’t heal anyone. Where’s my mother when you need her?

That’s the thing about coming of age: You have to rely on yourself rather than those who raised you. I couldn’t count on Frala Pyroar to swoop in and save us from this battle.

So instead I grabbed a fallen branch and swung it at the Lycanroc closest to Spencer. In doing so, I nearly hit my teammate instead; he was forced to duck.

Spencer stood back up and swept his attacker away, but I knew we didn’t have all day. Who knew if more reinforcements were just around the corner?

I held up my branch again; my attacker gripped it with his jaw and started tugging me in his direction. I did the same with my own mouth.

Let me tell you: Just because you have strong limbs doesn’t mean you’ll have a strong jaw. This was a far different mode of battle.

Both of us tugged at the branch, threatening to drag the other ‘mon over in order to attack them. Little by little, my own jaw was losing strength; as a pre-evolved species, I was no match for a wild Lycanroc who’s been chomping on branches his whole life. (And yes, I could tell he was a male, because I just could.)

If nothing happened to shake up this equation, I would lose this struggle, leaving Spencer and Enfield at the mercy of the feral wolves. And I couldn’t let that happen.

But I also didn’t know what to do to change things. If I let go, or if my grip slipped, or if my jaw broke from not slipping, I’d look like a weakling. That would only give the Lycanroc more incentive to go all-out.

Just when it seemed hopeless, the Lycanroc’s grip relaxed, and I was able to spit the branch out. Luckily, my lips did not come into contact with the feral wolf’s slobber, which was not only dangerous but also disgusting. (Who wants to share an indirect kiss with such a beast?)

Enfield had recovered from his fall and shocked the Lycanroc, which had slowed the beast down. As a result, I was able to grab a nearby rock and chuck it at the wolf’s head.

The rock found its target with a thunk, and the wolf collapsed into the snow. One down, two to go.

Spencer was going at it with his nearby enemy, and while both were losing steam, neither seemed too heavily injured. I picked up the same rock and tossed it toward the other Lycanroc.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Enfield exclaimed. It was a statement, not a question.

“Sorry!” I exclaimed, right as the rock conked the wolf in the skull and knocked it to the ground. “But see? I’ve got good aim!”

Together, the three of us were able to exhaust the last Lycanroc by running in all directions. Once he had collapsed to the snow all dizzy, I did the honors.

“Night night, motherfucker” I muttered as the beast’s eyes rolled back in his head. When the other two glanced at me, I said: “I can say whatever I want when Mom’s not here!”

Spencer snorted. “It’s not that. Calvin, do you think they’re going to be okay?”

“Who cares? They’re beasts, and they tried to kill us! We have to save Marcus!”

I had to admit, of course, that leaving three unconscious Lycanroc in a forest clearing after beating them to within an inch of their lives didn’t seem conducive to good karma. If anything, Arceus would have some punishments for us in store.

But we couldn’t worry about that right now.

“Are either of you hurt?” I asked, gasping as I saw that Spencer’s chest was wet. “Oh no, Spencer! Your chest!”

My fellow Litleo glanced at his chest to find that liquid was on it. “It’s just melted snow, it’s not going to hurt me” Spencer said casually.

“No, it’s not!” Enfield shouted. “It’s Lycanroc saliva!”

Spencer wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, it’s gross. But it’s not going to kill me, right?”

No sooner had he finished uttering these words that Spencer grimaced. His formerly-gray chest had lit up with a bright red rash that resembled a map of an infectious disease outbreak.

“That’s what Lycanroc slobber will do to you” I informed him. “If it comes into contact with fur or flesh, it has powerful corrosive properties. The best-case scenario is a rash on par with the worst sunburn of your life.”

Spencer began scratching his chest furiously, gritting his teeth in frustration as he did so. “It’s…so…itchy!” he wailed.

“Yes, rashes tend to be itchy,” I replied. “But you mustn’t scratch - that can lead to an infection, and you don’t want that, do you?”

Spencer grumbled a bit, pinching his front left leg in order to stop himself from scratching his chest. But that didn’t work either, for a trace of the slobber remained to corrode his leg.

“Just roll around in the snow, okay?” I offered. “Maybe that’ll help soothe the itch a bit. But we have to keep going, or else we’ll never save Marcus.”

With the look he gave me, you’d think Spencer no longer cared about that goal, and was focused merely on ending his agony. I can’t say I blamed him, but I wasn’t exactly happy about it either.

A minute later, Spencer sighed again, evidently resigned to his fate. He glanced up at me like a pet who’s just been yelled at by its owner.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed. “Let’s go. Go to the dungeon.”

----------------------------------------

SPENCER’S POV

Suddenly I was miserable.

My chest kept crying out to be scratched, invisible creeping critters dancing their way about it. Yet it also burned in a way only a rash can.

During our winter hike, there were many times where I couldn’t resist the urge to run my claw nails across my stomach. Yes, Calvin kept warning me not to, but at such a level of agony, it’s not like listening to him was my highest priority.

I would worry about infection later. The itch was what mattered now. That’s the way I saw it.

The hours ticked by at a Shelmet’s pace. I didn’t bother asking Calvin how much further it was to the dungeon - even if he knew, why would such knowledge make my itch go away? It wouldn’t, and I just had to accept that.

Eventually the sun was right in our eyes, adding another layer of discomfort. Not only did we have to squint, but it reminded us that night was fast approaching. And who knew how many more Lycanroc would come out to play?

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Should we bed down for the night?” I enquired, grimacing as the itch made itself known once more. The scratching had, if anything, made it worse, but that didn’t mean I stopped doing it.

“No!” Enfield squealed. “Calvin says we’re almost there!”

Despite lagging closely behind the other two, I hadn’t been able to hear my fellow Litleo say that. Once the sun went down, doubt crept in - maybe we weren’t as close to the Pit as I thought.

Calvin grimaced as we reached another clearing. “Fuck” he mouthed. “There’s already a bunch of machinery here.”

I lifted my eyes. “That means we’re at the dungeon, though, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yes,” Calvin muttered. “But the humans are already working on the mine - they can move quickly when they want to. And the suit against it hasn’t even been filed yet!”

“The human race would be pretty foolish to dig here,” Enfield said. “Assuming there really are that many spiders in the Pit.”

“Oh, there are,” my fellow Litleo replied. “There are probably at least twice that amount now. They also say the dungeon has a hundred floors.”

“And we don’t have any Escape Orbs,” I remembered. Grimacing yet again from the itch, I remembered that we were in very dire straits indeed if we needed to exit the dungeon through the same doorway we’d entered.

Calvin fixed his gaze on me. “That is true.”

“So what are we going to do when we find Marcus and need to drag him out of there?”

“Pray we can find one lying around somewhere? I don’t know, it depends on how many teams have been through here before.”

Glancing at the entrance to the pit (which was covered in a trap door), I couldn’t help but grimace once more. This time it was not from the literal itch that still gripped much of my body, but rather the mental image of having so many spiders - Araquanid, Ariados, and numerous other species - crawling all over me.

“What are we waiting for?” Calvin enquired. “We should jump in.”

I frowned. “Shouldn’t we look for an Escape Orb first? I’m sure there’s a satchel around here - maybe it’s hidden in one of those machines.”

I gestured at the forklift that sat idle next to the pit’s entrance. Although I was the one to suggest searching it for supplies, I think even I understood that such a search was unlikely to bear fruit. After all, the vehicle had been operated by humans, not Pokémon, and humans probably wouldn’t carry such items with them under any circumstances.

Except for me. Wait a minute…why am I a Pokémon?

As the weeks had passed, the idea that I was a Litleo had been normalized in my mind. Slowly but surely, it didn’t seem as insane, and part of me wondered if I’d wake up one fine morning and forget I’d ever been human.

And yet, it’s quite remarkable. No humans have been known to become Pokémon, and I’m the first. I shouldn’t lose sight of just how insane that is.

“Spencer! Snap out of it!”

That was Calvin barking orders at me, and I nodded eventually. “Yes, sorry about that!”

“Let’s get in the pit before it gets fully dark! We’re not going to find any Escape Orbs out here! We’re going to have to try our luck there!”

I cast a glance at the darkening evening sky. The first stars were going to take shape soon, yet if some members of my species got their way, it wouldn’t be that long until none of them were visible.

Speaking of stars, this might be the last time I ever saw them.

No. I’ll come back up here. I have to.

“Spencer?” I heard Enfield say. “It’s time.”

Reluctantly, I followed my teammates through the trap door. Beyond it was a ladder leading downward. And let me tell you: I might have been a quadruped for a month now, but I was not yet used to ladders. I might never be, for it requires a certain degree of grip strength that just isn’t as feasible when you’re a Litleo.

“Hold on, Spencer!” Calvin exclaimed.

I snorted. “I’m holding on for dear life already!”

“Climb down, then!”

“Easier said than done!”

“Stop complaining and just do it!” my fellow Litleo bellowed. “You’re almost there!”

Given that I was apparently almost there, I let go of the ladder and let myself tumble to the ground. I landed fairly hard, sprawled out on all fours, but it was nothing I couldn’t recover from.

“You did it, Spencer,” Enfield said softly.

“Yeah, well…that sucked” I muttered.

This is about to suck far more. Literally - I bet some of the spiders in here take your blood and use it to create a parasitic infection or whatnot.

I also realized that the air was no longer cold. Now that we were underground, it was even a bit stuffy in there. Which would have been unpleasant enough, but the warmer temperature also inflamed my chest further.

“Let’s get this over with fast” I said through pursed lips.

“Right,” Calvin told us. “Follow my lead.”

So we started down the maze of pathways. Right away, I noticed that this was ironically the most colorful mystery dungeon we’d been in thus far. The walls consisted of stone the color of peanut butter, covered in a fine layer of sand. There were also gemstones every so often.

My eyes lit up. “I wonder if one of them is an Escape Orb!” I exclaimed. (Do I need to explain why finding one was such an appealing prospect? I think not!)

“Don’t get your hopes up” Enfield murmured.

“Even if there is one in there, we don’t need it yet” Calvin added.

I sighed, looking back at the ground to see if there were any gemstones that looked auspicious. Unfortunately, there weren’t.

“Fine. Let’s keep going.”

Calvin seemed to select random paths. First left, then right, then straight, then right again, then straight once more…eventually I lost track. Twice he led us down a fork in the road, then swiveled around, claiming it was a dead end and nearly running Enfield and I over.

For a location called the Pit of 100,000 Spiders, there didn’t seem to be a lot of them. On the first floor, we didn’t run into any enemies, and for a brief time I almost allowed myself to breathe more easily. Maybe it was just a rumor after all, but unlike the ones about the Mount Thunderhead manor, this was a fake rumor.

But then Calvin had to defecate all over our parade.

“Just because there aren’t any spiders yet doesn’t mean they aren’t coming” he announced. “Stay on your toes.”

After a while, we came to a chamber with what looked like a giant TV screen mounted on the cavern wall. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, with even more strewn across the floor. In other words, besides the screen, nothing about this area was modern.

“This has to be a dead end,” I muttered.

“It isn't,” Calvin insisted. “This is the path to the second floor. I just know it.”

“But it’s blocked by the screen!”

“Sometimes,” my fellow Litleo replied, “you have to think outside the box. This is one of those times. Can you read what that sign says?”

Sure enough, there was a plaque against the floor that was covered in so much sand that I could barely read it. Once I’d scraped some of said sand off, this is what it read:

Welcome to the 32nd Annual Number Trap Game!

Here’s how it works! After you have caught all of the 1s and 0s on the screen using motion controls, you will be presented with a binary code that you can use to find what you seek!

“A binary code?” Enfield wondered aloud. “What does that mean?”

I snorted. Despite the uncontrollable itch, I realized that I was about to be useful for the first time in forever.

“It’s a term in computer science,” I explained. “Granted, I’m not a computer scientist, but those in the human world code using ones and zeroes. It’s the foundation of so many things…”.

“So many artificial things” Enfield muttered. “So many fake pleasures, too.”

Calvin looked at me. “Where I’m from, only scientists are allowed to use computers. And they’re strictly for running climate models, not used for playing games and whatnot like humans do.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m sure they had to code the model. I’m not an expert on coding, but I can play video games.”

Looking up at the screen, I saw a button that stated: Hold the cursor on this button to begin.

Calvin snorted. “Well, Spence, I guess you’re more tech-savvy than either of us.”

I beamed so broadly I barely registered that I’d been called Spence. I was too thrilled to care.

“Let’s do this,” I said with a smile. “Just hold your paws up to the screen - it’s just like a motion-controlled video game.”

“There’s just one problem” Enfield squeaked. “I’ve never played a video game.”

“You learn by doing” I assured the Emolga. “It’s just like how your mother taught you to fly, isn’t it?”

Those words seemed to affect Enfield to no small degree; he visibly flinched. But he then looked back at the screen, grim determination on his face.

“Let’s do it.”

So we initiated the game. Digits from zero to nine began raining down from the screen; although the zeroes and ones were highlighted, it still wasn’t easy to notice all of them to catch with our cursors. Not in time, at least, and we missed at least several numbers the first time.

Once all the digits had passed, we received the following message: Oops, you haven’t caught them all! Hover over this button and try again!

“We could be here all night” Enfield mumbled.

I shook my head. “We won’t be. How about each of us try a different section of the screen? Calvin, you take the right. Enfield, take the left.”

“And you?” Enfield asked me.

“I’ll get the numbers in the middle, and maybe a few on either side” I responded with a smile. “We’ll get through this, and we will rescue Marcus.”

Of course, maybe he’s somewhere on this floor. Maybe he ended up in a dead end. If so, we’re wasting our time here.

For obvious reasons, I wasn’t going to say that out loud. I held my front paws up to the screen until my cursor appeared again, and then we restarted the game.

The third time was the charm, as we managed to catch all of the required digits before they vanished from the screen. When we succeeded, we were greeted with a mass of ones and zeroes, as well as a key at the bottom of the screen.

“So now we have to decode it,” I muttered.

“That’s not hard, is it?” Enfield mumbled in a slightly whiny tone.

“Hard? No” I said. “Time-consuming? Yes.”

Maybe that’s part of a trap. They’ll distract us by making us decode a message hat means nothing, and then the spiders will all jump out of nowhere and attack us!

Still, it’s not like we had any further leads, so we set to work using the key to find out what the message was.

“Do either of you have any paper or something?” I enquired. “And a pen, too?”

Calvin and Enfield glanced sheepishly at me.

“Of course not,” I muttered. “But not to worry! I’ve got the memory of an elephant - a Donphan!”

“You…” I began.

Calvin frowned. “I feel like it says something about treasure.”

“Treasure might be Marcus” I said, hoping I was right.

I tried to work faster, but the ones and zeroes kept blurring in the weak light. Before long, I was too bleary-eyed to focus, particularly with the added pressure of wanting to get this done before it was too late.

Enfield, on the other hand, decoded the message at, well, lightning speed. Within minutes he was flapping his wings broadly, beaming with what must have been pride.

“I got it!” he exclaimed.

Calvin and I glanced at one another, then both of us looked at Enfield.

“What are you, kid, some kind of prodigy?”

The Emolga gave off a smirk that was clearly forced. “I’m not going to reveal my secrets to you two.”

“Fair enough” I sighed. “You don’t have to.”

But Calvin was focused on something different. “You decoded it, Enfield?” he asked again. “All of it?”

Enfield nodded feverishly. “It says, ‘You can find the treasure in the fourth floor bunker.’ Wow, aren’t I a genius?”

I frowned. “Bunker? Wouldn’t this whole place be considered a bunker, since it’s underground?”

“Well, it’s somewhere on the fourth floor,” Calvin muttered. “Assuming, of course, that treasure means Marcus.”

“It had better” I sighed. “So how do we get through here?”

Instantly, the wall with the screen attached caved in on itself, revealing a corridor leading out into a void. Nothing could be seen except a white light in the distance - a literal light at the end of the tunnel.

But I was far from convinced that this would be it. More likely than not, it was a trap. If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

“We can’t go through,” I said. “It might be a trap.”

Calvin glared at me. “It’s not like we have any other choice. Everything else on 1F is a dead end!”

I grimaced, imagining what might be lying in wait for us all. The warm temperature made the rash on my abdomen vastly escalate in terms of intensity, and I remembered something Calvin had told me at the assembly. Just knock me out until this is over.

“Fine,” I sighed. “Let’s keep going.”

We made our way down the corridor, during which time I felt as though something were breathing down my neck. Surely I can be forgiven for thinking that our luck could not last.

Because it didn’t.

As soon as we entered the next room, the ceiling turned upside down, and we fell upwards.

“AAAAAAHHHH!” I shrieked, convinced we were about to be eaten by a series of spiders. We’d just been ensnared in a spider’s web, after all - isn’t that what usually happens next?

“Oh my Arceus!” I yelled again, and I heard my companions shush me. They failed to drown out my screams as we dangled upside down in the web.

“Why are we upside down?” Enfield enquired, far more calmly than I managed to speak. My head spun, throbbing very much as the blood rushed to it.

“Because it was a trap!” I yelled, trying to move my legs only to find that I couldn’t move my legs.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Calvin muttered.

“Hey, I told you two that it was probably a trap!” I exclaimed, trying yet again to wriggle free. Naturally, I made negative progress.

Enfield clicked his teeth. “Not helping, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry!” I shouted, though my rage had drained out of me just like the blood out of my limbs.

“The thing about Araquanid silk,” Calvin announced, “is that the harder you try to break free, the more stuck you’ll become. It’s just like quicksand in that regard.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Stay calm?”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. You just let yourself roll over onto your back, and the strands will loosen just enough for you to escape. But you have to be quick.”

I’m afraid to say that Calvin’s advice fell on deaf ears. The last thing I wanted to do at that moment was to stay calm when the rest of my body told me otherwise.

I had a glimpse of what lay below - a pool of water. It was probably a few stories down, though - it might not cushion our fall the way we wanted it to. It didn’t help that the circulation in my ankles was quickly being cut off as the strands of web tightened.

It was then that I felt the first sign of something crawling on me. Its eight little legs were dancing about my back, checking to make sure that the web was nice and tight around my limbs and back.

“Get off of me!” I shouted, pounding my front right leg like a fist.

But it was no use; the spider worked its way up the back of my neck. Soon it would bite, and then I’d quickly be envenomated. I’d keep struggling against my binds, but I wouldn’t get anywhere fast. And I needed to work quickly.

“Don’t panic, Spence,” Calvin instructed me. “We’re both out already.”

Way to rub it in, dude.

If this revelation was meant to reassure me, it did the opposite. Frustration set in right away, and I pounded my legs as much as I was able.

It didn’t work, of course. Spider silk might look pretty flimsy, but it’s even stronger than concrete. It would have supported the weight of my human body, let alone that of a puny Litleo.

Another spider was now crawling on my back. No, make that several. I couldn’t count whether there were exactly seven, and I didn’t care as the strands of webbing were wrapped around my neck.

Suddenly, my forehead grew hot as I struggled to breathe. The air just wasn’t getting into my lungs, and that was because they were trying to strangle me with the web!

Breathe, Spencer. Relax!

Those thoughts weren’t my own, as nice as that would have been. Internally, I was like, Oh shit, oh fuck, this is the end! And to think it would end like this!

“Fire!” I heard Calvin yell, though his shout sounded muffled as though we were underwater.

“What?” I panted softly so that I could continue drawing breath.

Are you a Fire-type or not?

The edges of my vision were beginning to darken. Sooner or later I’d suffocate, and my body would become food for an Araquanid, a less-than-dignified end for a former human. Right before I passed out, I realized what Calvin was telling me to do.

Oh yeah.

With the last of my lung capacity, I breathed as deeply as I could before letting it out in an almighty scream.

Flames erupted from my mouth, rapidly engulfing part of the web. Right - silk can resist almost anything except fire. Why didn’t I think of that sooner.

I didn’t have time to celebrate being able to breathe freely again, though, because we then fell thirty feet into the pool of water.

I sank like a stone until my feet touched the bottom, and then I opened my eyes. Right away I wished I hadn’t, because I couldn’t see anything!

Kicking upward with my limbs, I realized that they’d fallen asleep from being so tightly constricted. This made it hard to make any progress, which only increased the panic coursing through me.

I need to surface!

The water was deeper than I’d expected, but just before I ran out of air, I broke the surface and opened my mouth to suck in the stale air of the mystery dungeon. My chest still hurt, but it was better than drowning.

Just because I was on the surface, however, didn’t mean things were calm. The current jostled us around, and I felt Calvin’s leg kick me. I grabbed onto it.

“Idiot, are you trying to pull me under?!”

Whoops.

I had no problem staying afloat normally, but this underground river was far from normal. The current carried us downstream for several minutes, during which time my limbs quickly lost strength.

Do the dead ‘mon’s float, Spencer!

That must’ve been Calvin’s voice in my mind. Something told me that was worth investigating later, not that now was a good time.

You couldn’t resist the river; swimming upstream was an excellent way to ensure you’d lose strength and drown. It was going to take you for a ride, and you couldn’t change that no matter what. I found myself Lillipup-paddling in order to get to our destination faster, though Calvin was now in front of me.

“There’s some intense rapids up ahead!” my fellow Litleo exclaimed. “Be careful!”

As if these rapids aren’t already intense, I thought bitterly.

But it was almost like one of those commercials you see on TV: You’ll notice the difference immediately! Within seconds we were getting thrown around like puppets on strings, our bodies contorted against a series of rocks.

“Stay above the water!” Calvin groaned as he was washed onto a rock; I nearly crashed into him before being carried away by the current.

No shit!

The current was pulling me under, though. Slowly but surely, my legs were getting tired, and if I didn’t find a way to keep my head at the surface, I would be in trouble. (Well, more trouble).

I tried to kick off the bottom to launch myself upward like a rocket, but the river was too deep for that. It would not let me touch the surface or the bottom - I was stuck in some in-between state, unable to get air or momentum, like the eye of a hurricane. Though more like the eye wall in this case.

My vision darkened yet again. I wanted more than anything to draw breath, but I knew there was only water. And who knew what was in this water - probably nothing I wanted to swallow!

My lungs were folding in on themselves like the crust of a calzone, and it was genuinely painful. Panic set in, not that it hadn’t already been there, and I thrashed my legs in all directions out of desperation.

I needed air. That’s all I needed, and yet it was the one thing I could not have.

And suddenly, I could breathe again. I was flying through the air, weightless, for a brief moment before hitting the ground.

My eyes were shut, and for a moment I wheezed, wondering what had just happened. Had I died and gone to…heaven?

No, heaven isn’t supposed to make you ache all over as though you’ve been beaten with a sledgehammer. Or better said, smashed against a series of rocks by a raging river.

“Open your eyes, Spencer!” I heard Enfield shout.

I did as I was told, and then I saw that I lay in a shallow pool of water that did not feature a current. The ceiling was light brown, the same peanut butter-colored stone that made up the rest of the tunnels in the dungeon.

“This isn’t heaven, is it?” I mouthed.

Enfield chuckled. “I’d like to imagine heaven’s a lot brighter than this.”

Calvin, on the other hand, was less than amused. “Are you sure you’re okay, Spencer? Nothing’s broken?”

I narrowed my eyes as I gingerly stood to my four paws. “It doesn’t matter if I’m okay or not. We can’t get out of here, and we have a job to do. Let’s find Marcus.”

Aside from the waterfall we’d just been flung off of, there was only one way out of the chamber: A tunnel with a sign posted beside it saying: PIT OF 100,000 SPIDERS - 4F BUNKER.

“Well, we’ve found it!” I giggled, trying to inject some levity into an otherwise dire situation.

Calvin glared at me. “You’re the one who always says it’s a trap.”

I shrugged. “Never conflate a trap with a scam. We need to go through here to find Marcus, assuming he’s the treasure.”

Enfield looked at Calvin. “What are we waiting for? It’s being handed to us on a silver platter!”

My fellow Litleo grumbled a bit, then nodded. “Let’s do it.”

My enthusiasm waned rapidly as we negotiated the corridor. I felt as though I were walking the plank, or else descending into my own crypt. This would be quite a deep grave.

After about a quarter mile, the path was sealed behind us. With a click like a door being locked, I turned around to find that the corridor had been filled with rocks that would take an eternity to move aside. Realistically, we weren’t chiseling through that no matter how hard we might try.

We were in a cavern the size of a cathedral, with gemstones all over the place. Where a cathedral would have contained stained-glass windows containing religious imagery, this cavern contained nothing but cobwebs. Most of them appeared flimsy, except for the one at the back of the room.

In this web, a Riolu hung about five feet above the cavern’s floor. His limbs were pinned down with thick layers of silk, as was its chest. The only visible part of his body was his face, the rest of it looking like a white silken sleeping bag. But this Riolu was not asleep, but unconscious.

The most alarming bit, of course, was his face. The Riolu’s light blue fur was covered in purple welts all over the place. They almost resembled bruises, although I didn’t want to know what sort of impacts could produce such wounds.

I screamed right then and there, a horrified shriek that could not be mistaken for anything but absolute fear.

“Stop it!” Calvin commanded. “You’ve got to be quieter than that if we’re going to rescue him!”

“But look at him!” I yelled. “What would have caused those purple spots?”

My fellow Litleo grimaced. “I don’t think you want to know.”

I opened my eyes wider. “You know?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to go catatonic” Calvin muttered. “And I don’t want that to happen. Let’s just focus on the task at hand.”

I mean, fair enough.

We approached the web that had so thoroughly trapped the Riolu, during which time I tried to reassure myself. We were at our goal - this had to be Marcus. What other Riolu kid would be foolish enough to enter such a notorious dungeon?

We were about five feet away from the web when I heard the sound of giant mandibles crunching behind us.

I froze in place. That sound was like a raging fire - as horrific as it may be, it’s such a spectacle that you can’t look away. I turned around, which was a mistake.

Staring me right between the eyes was the biggest Ariados I’d ever seen.