Cal could hear the ominous chittering of Kristina, the big ass spider.
His hand hovered near his weapon, eyes locked on the vase to keep a semblance of composure, but Kristina’s legs were poised like serrated daggers at Jaxon and Jabor who flanked her toward the inside of the cave. Opposite him stood Elena, while Joe was closest to the entrance. At the center of this circle slithered Jobe, the snek, its scales glinting dimly as it encircled and played with the vase that housed sleeping destruction.
"Easy," Cal muttered, the words barely escaping his lips.
“Temp, how many of us know? They’d be easy pickings or even enemies if we don’t wake them up.”
“Uncertain Cal. Perhaps only you and Elena so far.”
Elena nodded imperceptibly towards Jobe, her violet eyes reflecting a steely resolve. Every breath seemed a gamble, every twitch a potential cataclysm.
The snek paused, forked tongue tasting the air, and then—the vase shifted.
"Shit, Jobe—?" Elena started, but fell silent as the bomb wobbled precariously on the uneven surface.
Kristina's multifaceted eyes fixated on the vase, her chittering growing more frantic. The standoff had been still as death moments before, yet now a palpable tremor ran through the group as hearts pounded against ribs with the force of war drums.
"Steady," Cal whispered, trying to quell the rising panic in his own chest, "It's just settling."
But even as he spoke, doubt gnawed at him. The vase's movement was slight but deliberate, a small shift that bore with it the weight of their lives hanging in the balance.
Joe, brow creased with skepticism, reached for the vase—a reckless move. He grasped it and tossed it lightly into the air, catching it on its descent. The others inhaled sharply, their eyes wide as dinner plates.
"Bro!" Jaxon hissed, his voice filled with urgency.
Elena's snek slithered back to her side, coiling around her boots like a living anklet. She remained motionless, a statue save for the rise and fall of her chest.
"Broskis, would you look at that?" Joe chuckled, the vase aloft once more. "It's almost like it’s not a bombski. Easy as banana pudding." He peered inside the vase and held it upside down. “Bro, there’s something inside.”
Jabor's laugh was tight, forced. "Yeah, banana pudding." His gaze flickered to Joe's hands, then to his own weapon—a subtle shift of weight, a readiness to act.
"Quit it, Joe," Jaxon growled, though his lips twitched with the ghost of a smile. "You drop that, we're all toast."
"Relax," Joe said, tossing the vase again with feigned carelessness. "I've got this."
But every toss spun a thread of fear tighter around the room, each catch a momentary relief punctuated by dread.
“Do you think they know, Temp?”
“Hard to tell – banana pudding would be the obvious safe word. Though Jaxon is not ready if that is the case.”
Kristina's many eyes narrowed, her mandibles clattering in agitation. The giant spider's legs unfurled as she skittered to the side towards Jaxon, the soft thud of her approach sending shivers through the tense air. Joe, aware of the looming threat, juggled the vase with a showman’s flair.
"Whoa!" he blurted out, fumbling the vase in an exaggerated arc towards Kristina. A collective gasp echoed, then silence.
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"Stop goofing around!" Jaxon's voice cracked like a whip. Kristina halted, her attention snapping to the cervidian. Her legs tensed, previously ready to strike, but now scrambling to catch the oncoming vase.
“Banana pudding, bro! And you call me the slow one.”
“Oh shit. Banana pudding.” He leaned slightly towards his mace, muscles tensing beneath his skin.
"Idiot," Elena hissed under her breath. She seized the moment, slipping on the helmet with swift precision. Its cold metal kissed her skin, a chill that matched her resolve. Her violet eyes, now hidden behind the visor, scanned for the unseen and calculated her next move.
“Everyone knows, this would be the best chance to fight.. if she didn’t have the bomb now.”
"Kristina," he began, locking eyes with the colossal arachnid whose gaze seemed to hold the weight of eons. "We needn't be enemies. There's a path here that doesn't end in all of us dead."
The spider's legs shifted, a whisper-soft sound against the stone floor. Her eyes, gleaming like dark orbs, reflected a world unseen by human senses.
"Your words," Kristina clicked, her tone laced with resignation, "they are honeyed but empty. You cannot negotiate with me. They ruthless god will not allow it."
"You decide your destiny," Cal urged, hands open and unthreatening. "Maybe we can help carry your burden."
"The broodfather lies dead by your hand and you seek to carry MY burden. While I do not grieve for his death, I am still duty bound by conscience and god to slay you!" An echo of chittering sounded out from the cavern walls.
[Quest: Hunt! Defeat the spider queen!]
[Who knows what could happen to the vase. I won’t blow it up if you run away – really! Believe me!]
[Also, you little cervids, I’ll give you a title if you capture the chair. Chop chop!]
The team looked at each other in confusion.
Kristina's multifaceted eyes flicked towards the vase as she decided against mutual destruction and placed it down on the table once more, her mandibles pausing mid-chitter. Just a moment, it was all the team needed.
The standoff fractured with the revelation of a new quest, raw and daunting in its simplicity. "Run,” the word a death knell to the fragile peace they had strived for.
Cal grabbed for the vase, but a sharp spider leg came down towards him and he diverted towards the entrance with the rest of the team.
The cervidians bolted with Joe at the lead. Hooves clattered against stone, a staccato rhythm in the cavern's throat. They surged as one, their antlers like bare branches reaching for the hope of sunlight at the tunnel's end. Elena was a shadow flitting just behind them, her lithe form slipping through the chaos with practiced ease.
"Run faster, bros!" she hissed, her violet eyes wide and alert.
Cal's heart hammered against his ribcage, each beat a drum of war in his ears. He sprang into motion, a sleek predator evading the web of death spun by fate. His breath came in fierce, controlled bursts, fueling the engine of his escape. “Temp, fire at will”
Cal held out his pistol and Temp fired oversoul bolts at the spider, still getting used to managing power. Cal decidedly aimed away from the vase sitting on the makeshift dining table, but hoped to dislodge the ceiling into collapsing on the spider.
"Keep up, Temp!" Elena's voice cut through the din, urging him onward.
Legs pumping, he navigated the treacherous ground, instincts honed to a razor's edge. The cave's mouth loomed, an archway to fleeting salvation. His gaze fixed on the backs of his comrades, on Elena's raven hair streaming behind her like a banner of night.
Cal burst outside, “Why did you all stop?”
The sudden brightness clawed at his eyes, but it was not the lava light that stole the breath from his chest. There, amidst the desolate landscape of the alien world, stood two more stage-two beasts fighting over territory and perhaps the scraps of dinner. Their hides shimmered with an unholy iridescence.
"Goddess be damned," he whispered. The cervidians looked towards him, their own eyes mirroring the horror that gripped his heart. Jaxon shook his head and the two predators halted as if declaring a ceasefire as they stared at their new prey.
One creature's sinewy form undulated with silent menace, its four eyes fixated with predatory interest on the new prey before it. The other was a parrot of sorts, but much larger and feral than any Cal had seen before.
"Back inside?" Elena's voice was a blade, cutting through the frozen moment.
"No," Cal said, teeth gritted.
Regret coiled in his gut like a live wire; losing the bomb vase, that infernal device, now seemed a tragic loss. With its weight in his hands, he could have turned the tables, could have offered a threat, a bargaining chip against these monsters.
"Damnation," he muttered, the taste of the words bitter. The possibility of what might have been was a cruel mistress, taunting him with visions of control.
A sudden chitter from behind made Cal's blood run cold—Kristina, the spider queen, had not relinquished her pursuit. Her massive form emerged from the shadows, her eight eyes gleaming with intelligence and malice.
"Looks like you've spun yourselves into quite the web," she taunted, her voice silky and menacing.
[Escalation, stage 2: Survive the entrapment of hungry predators. Time limit: 200 hours]