“Do you need to be murdered for your portal to appear?” Qube asked the giant scorpion towering over them.

The scorpion shook its tail.

“I think that means no,” Qube said, turning to the others.

“What’s that on its back?” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady asked from her heightened position. She raised herself higher still, her face just clearing the top of the Boss. “It’s some sort of wound, or blemish, similar to the ones on the other Bosses we fought.”

“I recall that our Noble Patron seemed to target those when we fought them,” Sewer Bard said, smoothly stepping out of the way of the scorpion’s questing claw. The scorpion raised itself up on its legs in a move remarkably similar to Sexy Screamy Spider Lady when she was angry, bringing its pincers in front of it in a protective move.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you,” Qube hurried to reassure the scorpion. “Maybe you could try telling the Temple that we’ve defeated you? Would that work? It must have some kind of connection to you, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Definitely Bad Guy corrected her. “If it is, as I suspect, some kind of summoning spell that brings the portal into existence, then it may very well have no way of communicating with the Temple. Do you have reason to believe that the Temple can be communicated with?” he asked Qube curiously. “I have noticed no such ability in the past.”

At any other time Qube would have loved the excuse to tell everyone all about her TIMES theory, and how she thought that the Temples had been made to house the Bestowal pedestals and act as tests for those who wished to gain their power, and how the housing of so much magic had imbued them with their own magical abilities. But right now she was more concerned with the whole ‘death ritual to move forward’ issue.

“It makes sense that the Bestowal pedestals are stored in your inner pockets,” she informed the scorpion. The scorpion started pattings its sides. “Everyone has inner pockets, spaces inside them, which hold items,” Qube told it. “Probably,” she added, in the interest of accuracy.

The scorpion started pressing on its own carapace, as if trying to access its own inner pockets.

“Oh, don’t try and get into them yourself!” Qube said, reaching out and gently touching one of its giant yellow claws. “I once accidentally saw someone’s inner pockets, and it’s really not something we should be messing with. We don’t know if taking something out of them would hurt you or not!”

The scorpion stopped patting itself and slumped back down. It started tapping on the floor and walls, as if hopeful of finding inner pockets that way.

“If our associate here was to hit itself in the red spot, would it die of its own poison?” Sewer Bard asked Definitely Bad Guy in an undertone.

“Venom, not poison,” the Mage absentmindedly corrected the Bard. “I do not believe so, although the cutting damage would be enough to potentially kill it.”

“No one is killing anyone!” Qube said indignantly. She tried to think of any way they could move forward. Desperate, she turned to the littlest party member. “Squiggles, is there anything you can do to help?”

The sharktopus looked at Qube and tilted her head first to one side, then to another. She seemed to be pondering the question deeply, searching her little mascot brain for anything that could help. Perhaps she felt an affinity for a fellow Temple creature who was in the same position she had once been so long ago.

Squiggles straightened up and, still clinking from the jars stuck to the ends of her tentacles, skittered in front of the scorpion and looked it in the eyes.

The rest of the party fell silent, waiting to see what she would do. Even the scorpion looked up from its contemplation of its surroundings.

Squiggles started to dance.

The others waited for a few minutes, to see if there was anything more to it. But no. Squiggles just kept dancing, causing a terrible racket as her glass shoes smashed into the stone floor.

“Thank you, Squiggles,” Qube raised her voice to be heard over the noise. “It was a very nice effort.” She turned to the others, trying to tune out the crashing and clinking as Squiggles continued her performance. “Did anyone else have any other ideas?” she asked, without much hope.

“We should try and free the poor dear,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said passionately.

“Your enthusiasm for freedom and wild spirit are just two of the things I love most about you,” Sewer Bard said to Sexy Screamy Spider Lady earnestly, “but we require this creature to move forward.”

“How is that its problem?” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady shot back. “Just because we want something from it, doesn’t mean it has to give it to us.” She approached the scorpion, who seemed enraptured by Squiggles. “My dear,” she cooed, “would you like to leave this horrid place? It’s so small and cramped! Surely you wish to stretch your legs, and be your best fabulous self?”

The scorpion turned away from Squiggles and eyed the Hunter. It swivelled to the doorway they’d come through, and sideways stepped towards it thoughtfully.

Looking at the size of the doorway, Qube actually had no idea how the giant Boss had gotten into the room in the first place. It was easily five times the size of the doorway, and even if it squished itself together, there was no way it would have been able to fit through.

Which implied one of three possibilities: that it had been brought into this room when it was small and grown up in this large chamber, it had, as Definitely Bad Guy speculated, been formed out of mana in the room itself, or there was some other entrance to the room that it could access.

The scorpion, turning so it could still face Squiggles, who had branched out into doing kicks now, tried to gently push one of its claws through the doorway. It only just fit, scraping against the sides. The scorpion tried to shove the rest of itself through.

“Stop,” Qube said, distressed. “You’re going to get yourself stuck! You’re too big!”

The scorpion seemed to agree with her, withdrawing its claw and skittering sideways back to its original position. Then it skittered back to the doorway. Then over to the other side of the room. Then back to the middle.

Then it started to skitter in place, its giant legs pumping as it awkwardly hopped from side to side.

Qube stared at it, totally lost. Was it having a fit? Angry that it couldn’t leave? Trying to communicate with them?

And then one of its claw legs managed to straighten out mid hop, and Qube realised what it was doing.

It, too, was dancing.

Qube watched as the giant scorpion Boss and sharktopus danced at each other, clanking, clicking and kicking with enthusiasm, speeding up and slowing down to match each other. Qube felt her heart swell until it felt fit to burst.

“They’re friends,” she whispered to the others, holding her hands over her mouth.

“It certainly seems to have taken a shine to our Lady Squiggles,” Sewer Bard said, torn between amusement and frustration.

“You see?” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady crowed. “How could you harm such a happy, sweet little thing?”

Only Sexy Screamy Spider Lady could describe a giant, deadly scorpion capable of crushing them as a sweet little thing, Qube thought.

“Then how do you propose we progress?” Definitely Bad Guy asked with something close to a snap. “It will require a substantial amount of blood to trigger the death magic, given the portals have only appeared after the other creatures have completely perished.”

“Is there any way you can help us?” Qube asked the Boss again. “We need to get to the pharaoh's tomb.”

The Boss stopped dancing and looked at her. Heartened by this sign of interest, Qube continued: “You see, we have to make a decision there, and get an item that will help us defeat the Evil Emperor. But normally a portal would take us there. Do you know where the portal leads to?” She thought about all the other Temples they’d gone to, and where the portals tended to take them. “They tend to take us to far-off places, very self-contained. Very magical, and powerful.”

By this point Squiggles had also stopped dancing. The silence as her crashing stopped was a relief.

The scorpion backed away a few steps, and then slammed its claws into the ground. Surprised by this sudden aggression, everyone jumped back. Definitely Bad Guy and Sexy Screamy Spider Lady instantly assumed their battle positions, and even Sewer Bard unslung his lute.

“Wait!” Qube cried. “Stop! Don’t hurt it!”

The scorpion slammed again, and a crack appeared in the slabs on the floor. Ripping the crack open with its claws, it burrowed into the ground, and out of sight. There was a beat of silence.

“Well,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said, relaxing and dropping her daggers. “At least the poor thing is free, now.”

Then the scorpion erupted out of the floor behind them.

“[Lesser Shield]!” Qube cried, protecting Definitely Bad Guy, who was the closest to the Boss. But instead of moving towards them, the scorpion turned and slammed against the wall, causing another crack, and burrowing back into it.

“What— what is it doing?’ Qube asked, staring at the slowly healing wall behind the Boss.

“I think,” a voice said from the doorway, “it’s trying to find the pharaoh’s tomb.”

Qube swung around and lit up when she saw the Chosen One.

“Chosen One!” she cried, hurrying towards him. While she no longer felt the overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms like when she’d thought he was her childhood friend, she was still extremely glad to see him. “You’re awake! How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?”

“I didn’t actually sleep,” the Chosen One said, giving her a tired smile. “I got bored with resting, though, so I decided to come check on you guys. Then, when I saw how far you’d all gotten without me, I figured I would see what you could all do.”

“Sure,” said another voice, “that, and you didn’t wan’ me to interfere.”

The Chosen One grimaced as Warwick stepped into the room behind him.

“Hey everyone,” the Chosen One said with a sigh. “This is another of the Devs.”

“Hiya,” Not-Warwick said, leaning against a wall. His body language was totally different from the last time they’d seen him. Instead of the rigid, upright and controlled stance of Alex, this version of Warwick looked like he was only just being held together. He practically slumped, loose-limbed and casual.

“Pleased to meet you,” Qube said, because she was by nature polite. “How are you?”

The Dev looked her over, and winked. Qube instantly felt uncomfortable about being winked at, and stepped back a bit next to Sexy Screamy Spider Lady, who shifted her legs to shield the Healer a little.

“So youse the one who’s been givin’ us so much trouble, eh?” he said.

“When did you join?” Sewer Bard asked, his voice carefully controlled. “Have you been watching us for long?”

“Nah, Casanova, not tha’ long,” the Dev drawled. “I jus’ happened to pop by to drop off some stuff after a few drinks and what do I see but our resident insomniac workin’ hard. And givin’ off some very interesting brainy-boops.”

“I was resting,” the Chosen One said defensively.

“Sure, mate,” the Dev replied, and grinned. “So I figured hey, let’s see what all the fuss is about, and thought I’d come say hi. Imagine my surprise when I found our Hero snoozin’.” The Dev moved as if to nudge the Chosen One with his shoulder, but the Fighter sharply stepped await from him.

“Easy,” the Chosen One said. “Didn’t you hear about what happened to Bee and Al?”

“Oh yeah!” the Dev said, throwing back his head and laughing. “I heard they finally —”

“In here, Cazza,” the Chosen One interrupted. “When their models touched.”

“Is that what they’re callin’ it nowadays?” the man named Cazza said and gave a meaningful chuckle.

While she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, something about this Dev reminded Qube of Sexy Screamy Spider Lady and Sewer Bard. Obviously the Dev was a much more elevated being than her friends, but something about the way he spoke just seemed… familiar.

“Well, well, well,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said under her breath, before approaching the Cazza Dev. “It sounds like two of the Devs have found true love.” She raked the Dev over with her eyes. “I had no idea that Devs could even fall in love.”

The Dev squinted at the Hunter, blinking as if trying to focus.

“Oh yeah,” he said, vaguely. “You’re the creepy-crawly Bee was bangin’ on about.”

The Chosen One slapped his palm against his forehead.

“Cazza,” he said, exasperated, “how do you have so much tech skill but so little social skill.”

“Min-maxed my brain poorly,” the Dev said, and burped. Qube felt some of her reverence for the Devs shatter a little. The other Devs had been odd, true, but if she didn’t know any better she would have said that this Dev was almost drunk. She’d only experienced drunk people once, so she wasn’t an expert on it, but it certainly seemed like it.

However, before she could say anything, there was a tremendous racket, and a crack appeared in the chamber wall.

The scorpion had returned.