"Did it work?" I ask Gene as she finishes off the wyvern. The spiders have refocused on battle tactics and are doing a much better job than when I was involved in the conversation. I must have asked too soon because Gene is in an intense trance and does not respond. My question lingers in the air. I know she heard me, and I almost wish I could pull it back in before my disturbance breaks her focus.

The silence lingers longer. I wonder if I start stretching if that will dissipate the tension. I'm about to go through my forms when Gene frees me from my silence. Gene's eyes, full of intent, shift into a look of disappointment.

"It wouldn't let me take the form without sacrificing another."

"I thought you already knew you were at your max. Your lycan form took up the remaining three forms."

"I thought I could cheat the system." Gene takes a seat next to the empty webbing. I absorb the web and pull out a chair for the both of us. Graciously she accepts the chair, abandoning her seat on the rugged mountain top. A small fire is created, and a moment later, coffee is brewing.

"Was it the fox?"

Gene replies with a slight nod as she stirs the coffee pot.

"Are you really disappointed you had to sacrifice a form?" I say after some time.

"No. I'm just worried."

"That's fair."

"I think we are running out of time," she says. Her ears are perked, and her breaths are more rigid than natural. She continues to stir the coffee stiffly.

Whether it is Gene's anxiousness or jealousy, my hands feel like they're missing out on the action, so I start throwing small rocks at lesser small rocks. "Yeah, I can feel the dungeon core stirring within. It probably won't be long now. Knowing that it's children coming changes everything."

"I know. I should have told you at the very start. I tried multiple times. I couldn't get the words to come out. A weakness we are now paying for."

"I'd probably make the same foolish decision with the information. Hell, I might have been a bigger fool and suggest we live in the desert. I used to know a guy that was convinced deserts could become an oasis with proper plumbing. He was kind of a dunce and didn't live very long."

My pebbles finally hit their target, and I move on to a rock further away. I keep the small victory to myself. This isn't the time for celebration. The children change everything — so many kids without parents. We'll have to keep the little tykes safe and help them grow. All while the land is being invaded by power-hungry demons and core-seeking dungeoneers.

This place isn't suitable for kids. Neither are the circumstances. As safe as the Shadow Lair is, there is no way we can keep the kids in the dark without that affecting them in the long term. Not only that, but they also need fresh air. They need to be able to be kids.

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Gene, no longer content stirring the pot, joins me in my pebble-throwing shenanigans. She's a bad aim, so I jestingly let her know. "The object is to hit the rock." My crooked grin helps to sell the jest.

"Who said I was trying to hit the rock." Gene expertly flips the script, and I no longer know what the game is about.

Cluelessly, I begin throwing rocks at random objects to stay in the competition. A cool breeze carries the scent of coffee. In between the chattering spiders, shrieks of the shrillers fill the air. For a moment, we continue throwing rocks at whatever we hit, never missing. Each arbitrary point I gain inches me closer to victory.

"Maybe Ken had it right." I cut through the tense silence. "I still don't know if desert paradise would work. But maybe the problem is the solution." The line is dropped like it is from the mouth of a scholar and a not spitballing fool. Pebbles destined for tossing slip from my hand. Gene gives my comment too much attention and unknowingly picks up the rocks I dropped.

"Suppose the demons become the dungeon." Words become my new pebbles, and I aimlessly hope to hit any target. "They already don't die when they are in this realm, so there is no fear of shortage. And we already have a nice shadow lair that gives fitting dungeon vibes." Gene does pick up what I am saying, and I don't have to spew nonsense anymore.

"The shadow vortex could be modified… Draxxo would even be able to enter the realm. It would feel nice to punch him in the face again. So, we don't need to clear out all of this land. Just some of it. Lead the demons back to the lair and send the core seekers to the dungeon." Gene doesn't miss a single target, and she puts the plan together perfectly.

"We still have a fight ahead of us, and it would be good to get the spiders ranked up. With the shadow lair acting as the dungeon, our town can become a real home for the children." With each word, Gene's excitement builds. The swell pulls me in, and I am getting excited with her.

We finish making our plans, Dungeons, and Demons, while we sip our coffee. We will approach the lake as soon as we clear out the shrillers. We'll clear out enough space for Gene to set up protection rituals, and then we can set up a community. Right now, we are considering going the route of a town built around an academy. A very prestigious academy.

Once our roots are set here, I can make a quick trip back to the Greater Shadow Realm, call on a friend for a favor, and then retire for the rest of my life from ever making another plan. My freedom has never felt so confined. My path is never so straightforward. It's uncomfortable and chaffing in all the wrong ways. Not that there is any right way for chaffing — that I'm aware of.

As we finish our coffee, we go over the immediate plans again with the spiders. With Gene present, the team meeting is much more efficient and cruder. We complete the huddle with a group hiss in honor of Bones and for team-building purposes.

Gene transforms into her stormy wyvern and takes off. While she practices getting familiar with her new form, we descend the mountain and pick a more advantageous hill to fight on.

Annette's Nipple, the hill newly named by Noth and quickly voted on by the rest of the spiders, and Gene in honor of Annette's pet gerbil that I'm positive was actually called Nibbles. In Cher's words, "Nipples was a fluffy pet that looked just like this hill when it was balled up. As cute as it was, the spider eventually devoured it."

I like to tell myself the mountain's name is symbolic. It represents the loss of innocence or the devouring nature of spiders. Maybe it's that spiders devour the innocent. Whatever it is, I'm sure legends of the Nipple will somehow cement themselves in the history books. Myths and legends will be born on this iconic hill that, ironically, is shaped like a boob, but that is pretty standard hill form, if we are being honest.

We create some quick fortifications on the hill. Bone huts are built between the trees. Tunnels are dug with several exit and entrance points. Like the scorpions, these spiders are also of the digging type. Their network of mazes connects with my bone huts. Several layers of webs are set up throughout the trees, creating a network of traps.

When it's all finished, the spiders practice maneuvering through their tunnels, attacking, and quickly retreating. They keep practicing, shoring up any weaknesses well into the night. Modifications are made to the defenses as better ideas come to our minds. Gene returns from her practice, and we make more modifications based on her suggestions. After dinner, we rest and wait for the time to be right. The brightness of dawn will cover Annette's Nipple in the deepest shadows… Damn, spiders ruin everything.