Agent 325 was stuck carrying the cat. Of course he was.

No one else thought it was worth paying attention to. Even though it was a named creature that clearly didn't belong.

Too much of the leadership was missing, 325 grumbled to himself. If anyone with real authority had been around, they'd have known what to do. Instead of shrugging and saying 'Finders keepers.' What was that supposed to mean, anyway?

They split up into groups of ten to finish clearing out the forest. 325 was lucky enough to have their subsquad run into no fewer than four of the cunning spider-skunks that stalked the trees.

On the fourth, he finally felt the growing power within him click over into the next tier.

He raised a hand to select 'Fighter', then stopped. 'Tamer'? That option was new.

He glanced at the screen, then at the dead cat draped over his shoulders, then back at the screen.

Maybe this was fate giving him a hint?

Levi was midway through upgrading his last few armor pieces when he felt the tug. Something slowly slipping out of his grasp.

If he hadn't spent days following that exact same tiny feeling he might not have recognized it for what it was. But when it started to happen he intuitively understood it as the contest between their separate claims. Someone was trying to steal Becca.

He'd lost the rift cat on the first floor, toward the end. That meant that whoever was coming had finished the easy rooms already and reached her. And also that they had a tamer with them.

Levi hadn't ever thought about how trying to tame someone else's minion would work. He and Gordon had only ever traded minions after they'd been unbound.

In this case, his own claim was strong, rooted in weeks of companionship and reliance on one another. The opposing tug was based on pure strength and the desire for unquestioned domination. He knew this in the echoes of their conflict, the way the tether binding him to Becca vibrated and twisted. The person on the other end was stronger than Levi, but not by enough to easily claim dominance.

Levi wasn't sure how long he could hold on, but he wasn't going to let Becca go without a fight. She was one of his oldest minions, whose full potential had yet to be realized.

Finishing his crafting was a strain. With half his attention focused on the constant mental battle it was hard to juggle the precise timing the crafting process could require.

He finished upgrading the gloves, but didn't start on the boots. The fractional difference in survivability they'd provide wasn't worth the time it would take. If the invading team was already inside the dungeon, that meant they were out of time. If this was going to work, he had to go now.

He packed up his supplies hastily, Skarm helping toss things into their appropriate storage, then jogged out to where the others had been working together to create the saddle for his new ride. Since 'lobsteroc saddle' wasn't a standard recipe in the system - or if it was, Levi hadn't unlocked it yet - there was no particular reason it needed to be Levi himself creating it. Anyone could cut and fasten leather into the right shape.

He'd been surprised how adept some of the prisoners had been, a few of them taking charge immediately and talking about specifics of working with the various materials that Levi himself would be hard-pressed to remember, much less understand to that depth.

Now that he returned to see their progress, he was thoroughly impressed. The harness - it couldn't really be called a 'saddle' - wrapped around the roc-lobster's neck, chest, and behind both wings, with a thin metal layer added to protect it any place it intersected with the edge of a chitin plate.

It included a full double V strap for intense maneuvering, one that went over Levi's shoulders, legs, and around his waist while leaving his arms free, and a set of straps and loops like knee-length stirrups he could slip into and out of more quickly if necessary.

Honestly, it was far superior to anything he'd imagined, with exactly the right amount of flexibility. The design could probably be improved on given more time, but for something thrown together in under an hour? It was pretty damn impressive.

While final measurements and adjustments were hastily undertaken, Levi sorted out their minion situation. He didn't want to leave anyone more bound to him than necessary, just in case something went wrong. And besides, better to have someone on hand who could specifically direct them in case of a crisis.

Lash and Bolt he handed over to Peter, Packrunner to Mark. Those three in particular, if they went out of control, could kill everyone here in minutes. He wasn't so concerned about Bladefin or Crackle, their utility outweighed the risk. Lash could take care of them if anything happened.

"Irene, you're in charge. Peter, keep her safe. Lash, stay focused."

"I don't like this," Irene said, holding his hand and not letting go. "You still haven't told us what exactly you're doing, but the way you're acting..." She stared into his eyes. "You don't expect to survive."

"I do. There's a--" he choked on the word 'good', which refused to come out-- "decent chance I won't die."

"Then let me come with you," she said fiercely, "and I'll make sure you don't."

Protests immediately rose to his lips. "You can't leave Peter alone. There's only one harness." I don't to risk your life too.

"As a matter of fact, there are two." She gestured to the smaller, slower lobsteroc, who - Levi now noticed - had indeed been outfitted with a similar harness. "And I trust these people. They can get Peter out safely. I'm more concerned with getting you back safely."

"It's going to be the exact opposite of safe."

"Safer with me."

He wanted to keep arguing, every instinct within him screaming to keep her out of it. She'd slow him down, prevent him taking the kind of risks that may be necessary to win. But... she wasn't entirely wrong. Her presence would force him to take survival more seriously.

The mental tug in his mind shifted a fraction towards his opponent and he clamped down on his emotions.

"There's no time to argue. I'm going."

"And I'm coming with you."

He couldn't stop her, so he didn't try. A minute later they were each aboard their own roc-lobster, verifying the fastenings for the final time, when Peter spoke up.

"You can't set out without naming them! It's their maiden voyage. They have to be named."

Levi had entirely forgotten about names, at this point he was almost inclined to just keep the names generic so he could find them faster in a list, as keeping track of which minion was who would only get harder the more he collected.

But right now, he didn't have time to argue.

"Snip," he pointed to Irene's mount, the smaller one with the Slice ability, "and Snap." His own, with larger claws. "Wait five minutes, then get moving. The treasure locations are higher up this mountain, halfway along the ridge, in the middle of the hills, and right by the exit. If you encounter any problems, or even feel like something's wrong, forget about the rest and just get out. Understood?"

He cast one more glance over the gathered prisoners, half-equipped, expressions ranging from uncertain to terrified. "Once I do this, there won't be anything left for you to fight. You'll be perfectly safe. Stay together, you have Lash and the kalvex." His eyes lingered on his son, standing straight, one hand on Bolt's back, the other gripping the hilt of the Beastly Shortsword.

Peter nodded seriously. "I'll make sure they all get out."

Tearing his eyes away, Levi pulled out a stamina restorative and passed it up to Snap. "Here, you're going to need this."

Snap swiveled his eyestalks back to look, then reached a claw to accept the small bottle Levi held forward. In a quick movement, the roc-lobster poured it down his beak, then started running. Irene did the same, Snip following in close pursuit.

The ravine was too narrow for a proper takeoff, so Snap and Snip clambered up the side of the shallower slope to the left before launching themselves into the air.

Levi waited until they were well over halfway toward the southern entrance, anticipation and dread building with every moment.

He reached into his pouch and pulled out the vial of Destruction essence.

Immediately, he felt the atmosphere of the dungeon shift. It was tangible, the already oppressive weight coalescing around him as though some vast presence had just directed its full attention towards him.

The dinosaurs on the ridge to the southeast lifted their heads. The roaming packs of kalvex to the north snarled and began moving together. The soaring lobsterocs shifted course, and from beneath more jumped from their mountains into the air, milling about and shrieking to one another.

For a moment Levi paused, breath coming unsteadily. His heart was racing like he was in a life-or-death battle, blood rushing in his ears. If he had any less self-control, his hands would have been shaking. This might be enough. He didn't have to go all the way.

Mouth dry, Levi shook off the hesitation. They might be content with chasing him off this floor. He needed to be absolutely certain. This was the only way to be sure everyone else would be safe.

With a single motion he unstoppered the vial of essence and poured it out into his hand.