The expected currents had shifted, loyalties solidified. A sliver of elite Arraku, fierce and strong, had sworn themselves to her. The traitor, left to wither in the whispering woods, had aligned with the upstart.

  The Arrakso, a tide of thousands, yet as malleable as wet clay, were inconsequential. Their allegiance, a mere reflection of power's pull, like grains of sand swept by the wind. It was the Arrakfa, her priestess-servants, the functional heart of the nest, who held the true weight. Their numbers were fewer, but their influence, profound.

  Her children watched with eyes like polished jade, their allegiance a precarious balance, the fate of all hanging on their fickle whim. A swift, decisive strike was needed. One display of raw dominance, and they would return, bowing to their true queen. Then, victory would be assured. The Arch Demana's power and resistance would crumble before her grand design.

  Yet, a dissonance hummed beneath the surface.

  Though bright, the Arch Demana's presence was nascent. A weapon still in the forge, it would be hers, twisted and reshaped to serve her dark purpose.

  Another presence, a human male, her mate, remained a puzzle. A rare coupling, if it could be called that. Humans were frail, their blood a dilution of true power. His seed, a potential contaminant.

  But this one…he was different. While others flinched from her psychic pulse, their minds buckling under her aura, he stood firm. An anomaly, a flicker in the darkness, he was the one who made contact through the traitor, the hidden thread in her perception. She’d attributed it to Demana's power, a convenient explanation. It was not the girl’s gift—it was his. She could see the girl, and that would allow her to find a vulnerability.

  His defense was a complication, a blind spot in her senses, a shadow that could strike unseen. Easily lost in the chaos, he posed a subtle, insidious danger.

  And he was not alone. The Sasayaka reta Himitsu, a creature of shadow and deceit, slithered in his wake. Why? Had it betrayed her secrets? No matter. The creature’s motives were always selfish, its madness a constant. It held no power here, only a tool to be used against her enemies.

  Her focus remained on the Demana, the true threat, the fulcrum that could shift the arachnid tides. A swift, crushing blow was needed to extinguish this ember before it could ignite. She would use their bond against them. Love was a treacherous imbalance of the humours, an insidious virus that corrupted the mind. It was a lever she could manipulate.

  The girl stood defiant, her eyes blazing with a false fire, her presence a challenge. Breaking her would be a task, a battle of wills. But defiance was a brittle thing. Once shattered, the girl would serve, her spiders bending to their rightful queen, the Demana’s fire fueling her dominion.

  Yes, the girl would break. They always did.

  Their deceptively simple plan hinged on support. Maya would bolster Kleo, while Will would cover Jack and their retreat should things go horribly wrong.

  Her magic, versatile but fragile against such monstrosity, relegated her to a supporting role. Jack was a volatile element, his improvisations a gamble that knotted her stomach. Kleo was powerful, but if she drew too much, she would teeter on the edge of corruption, a wound that would fester with continued exertion. Maya prayed the young woman knew her limits.

  The Spider Queen, a master strategist, had already silenced their arachnid allies in a preemptive strike. Yet Kleo stood defiant, a solitary bastion against the towering queen. No hint of doubt betrayed her resolve.

  The Dark Witch’s face, a cruel smirk, and blackened lips flashed into Maya’s mind, her hands clenching instinctively. She banished the image, focusing on her task. Their initial advantage: crippling the queen’s mobility.

  She wove a spell with practiced precision, transforming the floor before the throne into a treacherous expanse of frictionless ice. The spell, indiscriminate, would hinder any who dared to cross its surface. A calculated move, an opening gambit.

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  The rest, a chaotic blur, relied on Jack and Kleo’s unpredictable dance: their whispered strategy, a secret. Maya and Will were left to navigate the storm blind.

  Her fingers traced the cool surface of the amulet’s box, a comfort, a last resort. Its pull, a siren song, whispered promises she dared not acknowledge.

  Sharp as a honed blade, Jack's gaze tracked the Spider Queen's descent, each detail a data point in his frantic calculations. Keeping her off-balance was paramount. Her armored bulk, an impenetrable fortress, would shrug off their attacks if they couldn't find a chink in her defenses. If such a vulnerability even existed.

  Her abdomen, a monstrous, bulbous mass, pulsed with an unsettling rhythm, both repulsive and hypnotic. He dismissed it; brute force wouldn't breach that chitin. The pedicel, however, that thick, flexible connector, offered a sliver of hope. Its joints, where armor yielded to soft tissue for movement, were potential weak points. Severing it might cripple her, but her legs, anchored to the cephalothorax, and the unseen stinger within the abdomen, posed its own threat. The true terrors were her razor-edged mandibles and the suffocating miasma of dark magic that radiated from her like a living shadow.

  As her colossal legs hit the frictionless ice, her forelimbs scrabbled for purchase, a moment of vulnerability. Jack seized it. A sphere of force, launched with pinpoint precision, slammed into the joint of her nearest leg. The impact, smaller than he hoped, still delivered. Her stance faltered, her monstrous frame crashing forward, her head and thorax slamming into the stone floor with a resounding boom.

  A predatory grin spread across Jack’s face. The spiders above, their green eyes gleaming with savage anticipation, clicked and hissed, their attention shifting to Kleo’s cluster. If they wanted a show, they would give them one.

  The Spider Queen, a titan enraged, heaved herself upright, her legs struggling against the slick surface. She snapped her head back, her long, pale hair whipping across her face, and Jack’s breath hitched. Where an ear should have been was a jagged, gaping hole, a void pulsing with dark energy. His pulse quickened, a thrill of danger coursing through him. A weakness? He wasn’t sure, but he would find out. And if it were, he would exploit it, tearing her down piece by monstrous piece.

  Kleo met the Spider Queen's ground-shaking impact with a predatory grin. Her eyebrows arched, a silent dare, her hand beckoning the hag forward. Provoke her. Push her into a blind rage. One mistake. That’s all I need.

  The Queen’s multifaceted eyes narrowed, her fury igniting like tinder. Perfect. She was physically compromised, her emotions following suit. Maya and Jack had drawn first blood; now, it was Kleo’s turn to capitalize.

  The plan: a synchronized assault. Jack’s orbs, amplified by her divine power, redirected with surgical precision. Together, they would force the Queen’s defenses to crumble, exposing her vulnerabilities.

  Her mind fixated on the gaping, unnatural holes where the Queen’s ears should have been. Their purpose remained a mystery, but they couldn’t be incidental. Were they the key to her psionic control, the linchpin of her vast arachnid network? If so, they were her Achilles' heel; if only she could find a way to exploit them.

  Kleo knew, deep down, that her metamorphic ability might be their last resort. The thought made her uncomfortable; she was coming to terms with it but was far from embracing this darker aspect of herself. But Jack…he didn’t know. She’d envisioned revealing her transformation in a safe haven, where she could explain, reassure. I’m still me, she thought, mostly. A wildness lurked within the change, a dangerous, untamed force, but at her core, she was Kleo. Yet, the thought of Jack witnessing her transformation in this chaotic crucible tightened her chest. How would he react, unprepared, caught by surprise?

  She banished her doubts, whispering an incantation, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart. A shroud of darkness descended, swallowing the cavern in its inky embrace. The Queen couldn’t strike what she couldn’t see, hopefully. Jack, linked by their bond, would be able to see. Maya’s magic would grant her vision. Will, blind, would navigate by feel, hugging the wall.

  “Jack, now!” she commanded.

  His volley of orbs, transformed into divine projectiles, should have erupted; their strategy, an echo of the battle with Morghadus. But that time, the raw, devastating power, channeled into a single, obliterating sphere, was too costly. Here, precision was paramount. She could not afford collateral damage.

  Her thoughts drifted to the Abbey, the reckless abandon of that devastating blow. Bart and Tholomew had escaped, but the what-ifs lingered. It would be a desperate, last-ditch gamble if such power were needed again.

  Silence. No orbs. What was Jack doing?

  Then, the darkness dissipated, the cavern bathed in eerie green luminescence.

  Kleo froze. Her breath hitched. Her eyes locked onto the grotesque tableau before her. Jack, limp and lifeless, hung from the Queen’s maw, her jagged teeth sunk deep into his flesh. Blood, dark and viscous, dripped onto the stone floor.

  A raw, animalistic scream tore from Kleo’s throat. Her knees buckled, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the cold stone. No, no, no! This couldn’t be real. Jack couldn’t be gone, not like this.

  Something inside her shattered. A primal force, untamed and vengeful, surged to the surface. Her body began to contort, fingers elongating into claws, muscles twisting with unnatural strength. All restraint vanished. All that remained was the burning desire to make the Spider Queen pay.