The spider knew I was there before I saw it.
That was the first bad sign.
The second was the silk stretched across my usual route from the curtain to Amelia’s desk.
Not a web.
A line.
Thin, nearly invisible, placed exactly where I flew most often.
I stopped in midair.
My wings hummed, and the line trembled faintly in the current.
Something crouched above the curtain rod.
Eight legs.
Compact body.
Large forward-facing eyes.
Jumping spider.
Not normal.
Its body was perhaps two centimeters long—small to a human, a tiger to me.
Fine hairs along its legs moved with every vibration in the room.
The Codex activated.
— Mutated jumping spider detected.
Threat level: Extreme at current host scale.
— Wonderful.
I moved backward slowly.
The spider’s head turned.
It tracked me perfectly—not only visually, but through the air movement and vibration created by my wings.
Every buzz announced my position.
The spider jumped.
No warning.
One moment crouched, the next flying through the air.
I dropped.
It passed over me and struck the curtain hard enough to shake the fabric.
I accelerated toward the ceiling.
The spider turned with terrifying speed.
A second silk line crossed my path.
I saw it too late.
One wing brushed adhesive.
My body jerked sideways.
Panic hit before thought.
I pulled.
Reinforced Exoskeleton kept the wing from tearing immediately, but the silk stretched and the spider began moving toward me.
I twisted hard.
The edge of my wing tore free with a tiny, painful snap.
Not serious.
Enough.
I flew.
The spider jumped again.
I turned around the lamp; it struck the shade and recovered almost instantly.
Smart predator.
Built for exactly this.
I crossed toward Amelia’s desk.
She was not in the room.
Mayra was downstairs.
No help.
Good.
I preferred not dying without witnesses.
The spider followed along the wall and paused above the desk.
I hovered over Amelia’s phone.
Its screen was dark enough to hold a faint reflection.
The spider’s image appeared in the glass.
Interesting.
I descended.
The spider tracked me.
Its forward eyes shifted between my body and the movement on the screen.
Not confused yet.
But aware.
Jumping spiders committed fully when they attacked.
That was their strength.
It could become a weakness.
I lowered myself until I hovered half an inch above the phone.
The spider crouched.
Its abdomen lowered.
Legs tightened.
I waited.
Jump.
I moved sideways.
The spider launched toward my reflection and its own.
For the smallest fraction of a second, too many moving targets occupied the glass.
Its front legs struck the phone.
I dove beneath it.
My proboscis found the soft underside of its abdomen.
Pierced.
The spider convulsed.
I withdrew.
No venom trait yet.
Only injury.
It twisted with horrifying speed.
One leg struck me, and even with reinforced chitin I spun across the desk and hit a pencil.
I recovered.
The spider lunged.
I flew toward Amelia’s bed.
Bad choice.
It followed.
A silk strand caught the edge of my abdomen.
I pulled forward, but the spider reeled me back.
No.
I drove my wings harder.
The strand tightened.
The spider approached, mandibles open.
Then the dorm door unlocked.
Amelia entered.
Her eyes found the entire scene immediately.
Spider.
Me.
Silk.
No explanation needed.
Cold gathered around her fingers.
The spider sensed the larger threat and turned.
I stopped fighting forward and dropped instead.
The angle changed; the silk loosened enough for me to twist free.
Amelia flicked one finger.
A shard of ice struck the desk beside the spider—not the creature itself, because I was too close.
The impact made it jump sideways.
I attacked again.
Same wound.
Soft underside.
Pierce and withdraw.
The spider convulsed.
Amelia froze the phone beneath its legs.
Traction vanished.
It slipped.
I moved clear.
A controlled pulse of cold covered the spider.
Its legs slowed and stopped.
Dead.
I hovered over the desk.
Amelia looked at me, then at the silk strung across my habitual route.
“You attract trouble,” she said.
Idiot buzz.
She did not understand.
Still satisfying.
I landed near the spider’s abdomen.
Amelia watched but did not stop me.
Progress.
The Codex scanned.
— Mutated jumping spider biological material available.
Compatible adaptations detected: 1.
Adhesive Limb Structures I Improves surface attachment and grip.
Compatibility: Moderate 2.
Vibration Sensitivity I Improves detection of movement through air and surfaces.
Compatibility: High 3.
Neurotoxic Venom I Provides a small biologically integrated neurotoxic delivery system through the host proboscis.
Compatibility: High — All useful.
Could I take two?
— Current host architecture cannot safely integrate multiple spider adaptations without conflict.
Select one.
— Adhesive grip would help, but mosquitoes already landed well enough.
Vibration sensitivity might warn me sooner next time.
Venom would make one successful strike matter.
My current fights depended on piercing soft tissue and hoping the target respected inconvenience.
I selected venom.
— Neurotoxic Venom I Integration cost: 0.8 Evolution Energy Proceed?
— Current energy: 0.82.
Almost all of it.
Fine.
I selected yes.
Pain gathered near the base of my proboscis.
A minute gland formed, along with a duct, reservoir, and supporting tissue.
The structure was tiny.
Enough.
— NEUROTOXIC VENOM I acquired.
Effects: – Allows delivery of a small neurotoxic dose through the proboscis – Causes localized motor disruption in small arthropods – May cause minor pain or irritation in larger organisms Limitations: – Reservoir capacity extremely low – Production requires energy and nutrients – Current dose is not meaningfully incapacitating to healthy adult humans — Good.
No instant human paralysis.
No absurd jump in power.
The gland felt strange, slightly heavy on one side.
My flight balance shifted, and I wobbled during takeoff.
Amelia noticed.
Then she noticed the subtle change near my proboscis.
Her eyes narrowed.
“You did it again.” I looked away.
No.
Nothing.
She leaned closer.
“Cockroach shell,” she said, pointing to my body.
Then, toward the frozen spider, “Spider venom.” I froze.
Damn.
She had inferred correctly.
Amelia sat at the desk and placed one hand nearby—not trapping me, simply offering a stable surface.
“What are you?” Excellent question.
I was not prepared to answer it.
I flew toward the curtain.
Amelia let me go.
Behind me, she studied the dead spider and the silk line built to catch me.
I had gained a weapon.
Amelia had gained evidence.
We were both becoming more dangerous.