The cavern's air hung heavy with the scent of battle, a mix of earthen musk and the iron tang of ichor. Cal stood amidst the carnage, his breaths coming in measured heaves as he surveyed the fallen spider queen. The beast's monstrous form lay inert, a testament to the clash that had transpired.

Cal turned his dagger over in his palm, its blade now marred with a web of cracks that caught the light of molten lava. His thumb traced the jagged lines, memories of close calls and narrow escapes flooding back—a montage of survival, etched in adamant. This blade had been his silent ally, a constant through the surreal tapestry of this alien world and his own familiar one.

“How did this happen to you?”

"Looks pretty rough," Temp's voice echoed in Cal's mind, its tone an odd mix of concern and curiosity. "You really did a number on the queen."

"Didn't think it'd crack against her," Cal muttered, eyes not leaving the fractured metal. The dagger endured much—like himself.

"Maybe there's still hope for it," Temp suggested. "If we can find an egg, I believe the ritual could mend it."

Cal considered the proposition, the possibility of restoring the blade's former glory sparking interest. Temp had a point; what lay within his spatial treasure might just possess the ability to piece it back together, but that was a matter for later.

"Unbelievable," Elena breathed, her violet eyes wide with disbelief as she stepped over the rubble to join him. The cervidians, their antlered heads bowing in reverence, followed close behind, their cloven hooves silent upon the stone.

"That.” She pointed to the spider queen, “was quite the feat." Elena continued, her voice laced with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "A stage-two beast as a mortal. You are full of surprises."

"Her illusions were her only trick, and I had… er, I had her figured out," Cal replied tersely, his gaze lingering on the lifeless colossus. He felt the weight of his actions after his discussion with Kristina.

Jabor stepped forward. His voice was a melodic rumble, echoing off the walls. "Bro, I totally thought you were dead!”

Jaxon, smacked him on the back of his head, “Bro,” then continued, “we witnessed the battle and saw sparks dance around you like ancient spirits."

"Sparks?" Cal echoed, his confusion briefly surfacing before he masked it with a nod. He remembered only the fight, the push and pull of survival.

"Indeed. We can learn much from you – this sort of power…," said Jabor, his tone thoughtful. "Not of any dao-bound magic we know. It felt older. Deeper. As if the very fabric of this realm resonated with you."

Elena's brow furrowed, her stance shifting into one of contemplation. "I am also curious—it felt as if those energies were unbound by any laws that I understand."

"Unbound? Surely not, I don’t even remember seeing them." Cal turned the words over in his mind like a puzzle, sensing their importance but unable to grasp their full implication. The day's surprises seemed far from over though.

Cal's gaze remained locked on the fractured blade in his hand. Perhaps it was the “sparks” that had caused the cracks.

"Temp, are you familiar with these sparks?" Cal muttered again, turning to Temp for any semblance of clarity. "Have you seen these before?"

"Affirmative." Temp's voice was steady, a contrast to the lingering awe in the eyes of their companions. "During your prior engagements, these energy signatures manifested, though only today did one actively interact. I did not bring them up prior as they were curious, but irrelevant."

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"Energy signatures," Cal repeated, the term foreign yet oddly fitting. The notion that some unseen force had gathered around him, unseen and unfelt, stirred a mix of curiosity and unease within his chest.

Joe spoke to Elena, “Broski, we did alright as well. Thank you for coming to our aid.”

Elena nodded. “Did you see the system message about a chair? What was up with that?”

“Oh yeah, that was whack. Some funky SGP business, if you ask me.”

"System alerts?" Cal’s eyebrow raised slightly, but he kept his tone level.

"References to a chair," Jabor interjected, his antlered head tilted in bewilderment. "What fucking chair. Though a nice spot of luck and a title would be nice."

"Chair," Cal breathed out, feeling the weight of the word. Temp. He knew there would be a time to delve deeper with them, to help them understand the cryptic messages and their ties to Temp's true nature, but now was not the time.

"Strange days," Cal finally said, pocketing his damaged dagger.

Cal's boots crunched over the quickly degrading remnants of web as he moved closer to the group and sat down, exhausted. The air was thick with the scent of ichor, and his companions' expressions were soured by more than the stench.

"Shouldn't there have been something?" Elena’s voice cut through the silence, her hand slicing the air in frustration. "A treasure, some ancient artifact—anything for killing that monstrosity? We had the quest to begin with."

“Yeah, we totally got ripped off bro.”

“We barely got out of that one. Should’ve been a reward. Luckily you guys caught on.” Jaxon replied.

“Who found out first?” Jabor questioned.

Elena started, “I believe it was me, then Joe, then Temp… You two were… slow.”

“Yeah, Elena gave me a nice little cut to wake me up, while we were cooking.”

“Bro, that’s cheating. And you’re calling us slow.”

“Hahaha, was still awake before you all.”

"I didn’t even realize Joe was awake. You’re more than you seem." Cal scanned the horizon for any more danger. "It does seem we've been shortchanged, though. It’s like the system plays with us. It changed the quest right as I convinced Kristina to a truce."

"Shortchanged," echoed Jaxon, his hooves stamping the ground with discontent. "I’d get used to it."

Cal hesitated, then decided. “For the chair, when we're out of this place. When we're safe, I'll share everything."

"Hmmm, okay Temp," Elena's voice sliced through the stillness, her violet eyes searching his. "By the way, has mortal combat changed?"

He nodded, a slight firmness setting into his jaw. "Mortal Combatant is at 10% now. It seems I’m lucky. If the spider queen was focused on strength of dexterity, I would’ve been doomed."

Jaxon interjected, “yeah bro, that’s why we left her to you. Honestly, we felt bad leaving you there, but it looks like we underestimate you still.”

"Ten percent..." Elena whistled softly, the sound barely audible over the wind's whispers. "That is quite a bump – I only managed 7% while I was mortal."

"I’m just keeping up with what this place has thrown at us," he said, standing to face the cave.

Their conversation was interrupted by a cervidian, its sleek coat shimmering in the faltering light. "The Queen—the carcass. Would you like to keep it?"

Cal turned, his blue eyes reflecting a turmoil that matched the churning skies above. He considered his conversation with Kristina. The spider queen herself was extinguished beneath their struggle, because that was what it was, a struggle. Not art. "An unnecessary end," he murmured. “You know. We talked before we fought. She was surprisingly wise, but unfortunately set in her philosophy.”

"No reason not to trade her body now, though," he continued, straightening as resolve hardened his features. Cal grinned, "how about some manafruit? "

"Manafruit? I’m all out, and why would I want that carcass?" Elena arched an eyebrow, a glint of recognition lighting her gaze. “What did you talk about?”

"Agreed," came the chorus of cervidians, their antlers nodding in solemn agreement. They moved as one.

“Of monsters, power, and conflict.”

“Sounds deep, bro.”

“I think it was.”

Cal knelt by the spider queen, her chitinous shell cracked and oozing. He flipped the corpse over and his fingers probed the massive wound, slipping inside to grasp something solid yet pulsating with power. With a swift tug, he withdrew a luminous organ, the beast core emanating a soft glow that danced across his stoic face. It felt more solid than the ones he found before, more potent.

“How did I do this with a knife wound?”

“The sparks, Cal”

“The fuck? This wound is crazy.”

"Hey," Jaxon called out, his voice carrying the familiar jock-bro entitlement. "Don't forget the vase bomb."

Cal chuckled, casting a sideways glance at the cervidian. "Oh. I got a plan for that fucker."

"Better be good," Jaxon shot back, crossing his muscular arms, gray eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.

"It will be," Cal said, a mysterious glint in his eye.

Cal slowly drew energy out of the stage-two organ. It was refreshing and he relished the influx of power.

“Temp, mortals can’t –“ Elena started.

"Impossible," Elena whispered from behind him, her violet eyes wide with disbelief. "A stage-two core, you can’t. you shouldn’t be able to. How?"

[Escalation, stage 2: Survive the entrapment of hungry predators. Time limit: 199 hours]