As we compared more notes, a common theme emerged—none of the humans felt prepared for whatever came next. Their pradavarian teammates were still exhausted, and the humans themselves were physically and emotionally drained and had no idea how to deal with their new packs.

"Right," I said. "From what I understand so far—the key to captaining is to give your packmates a challenge."

"What kind of a challenge?" Mark asked.

"Any kind of a challenge that will help them sort out their ridiculous prad hierarchy without violence," I shrugged. "If they're not sternly told what to do they go straight for the jugular. I told mine that I'm rating them on how well they can take care of their packmates. Whoever is most 'supportive' gets to be number two and so on."

"What?" Lisa sputtered. "Seriously? And that… worked?"

"Observe," I pointed at my packmates who were currently exchanging verbal hissy-blows with the Strand sisters and other 'monster' students.

"That's enough barking from all of you!" I barked, shaping my hands into the shape of a megaphone. "Save the violence for the dungeon sim. Team, line up! Ten-hut!"

Kristi's feathers flattened against her head as she spun around, rushed to my side and snapped to attention, her posture shifting from hyper-aggressive to alert in an instant. Candace bounced to my right side, her tail swishing. The arctic fox seemed extra-pleased with at being commanded by me. Adelle, still looking bloated and uncomfortable, straightened up, rotated and fell into line next to the fox.

"Whoa," Mark said. "How the heck are they so...?"

Before I could answer, a black and white blur flashed from where she was standing with her friends. Nessy jogged over to me, panting, tail wagging frantically.

"Sorry I'm late, cap!" she saluted me, sliding into position beside Kristi. "My friends tried really hard to... convince me to stay with them… again. Had to sternly tell them that my decision is final."

"Aight," I turned back to the other human captains who stared at me with wide eyes. "See? It's all about giving them structure. Prads respond to clear leadership and expectations. Don't back down, don't show fear or indecision." I gestured to my team. "Ladies, for those of you who were at lunch or napping, I shall remind you of my challenge for pack hierarchy formation: whoever shows the best pack care and support for the entire team today gets second position in our hierarchy tomorrow. That means I'm rating how well you're helping each other, not just me. Start… now!"

I clapped my hands.

The effect of my words was almost comical. The tension visibly drained from my four pradavarian teammates as they were given a framework to channel their competitive instincts.

Kristi immediately produced a water bottle for Adelle from her dimensional backpack. "Here, hydration is important after medicinal tea," she said formally.

Not to be outdone, Candace began adjusting the straps on Nessy's clearly hastily-donned armor. "Your shoulder guards are misaligned, dawg. This could limit mobility in combat scenarios," she explained, slender, silver fingers working quickly.

Nessy, looking slightly bewildered but pleased, turned to Kristi. "Hey, Kris! I'm glad you're on our team, you're an awesome gal! Hrm, I smell that you've got a deep tension strain," she murmured, gently examining a dark patch on the raptor's arm. "I could hum a minor healing riff if you'd like? It won't heal the cuts, but it will relax the muscles!"

"Holy shit," Owen let out. "What the fuck?! They're… being nice? Prad girls can be nice to each other… as a contest?!"

Lisa stared in amazement. "You can say that again! They're actually helping each other instead of fighting. That's some impressive captaining."

"Because they have a clear goal," I explained. "They're still competing, but for who can be the most supportive rather than who can dominate through force. Remember, you're captains now, so you can set the stage for their behavior."

"Smart," Mark nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, Alec. I'll try it on my team!"

The other human captains exchanged thoughtful glances, clearly considering how they might apply similar strategies to their own teams.

Our conversation was interrupted by the distinctive click of magisteel-reinforced talons against the gymnasium floor. Professor Fern approached, her burning eye sweeping over the assembled students with calculating intensity.

"Ah, my surviving delvers!" she thundered. "I see you've managed to arrive on time for my afternoon test. The question is: are you ready for the dungeon simulation?"

The human captains glanced at each other, worry written across their faces. I stepped forward.

"No," I said firmly. "We're not."

Professor Fern's one remaining eyebrow arched slightly. "Oh? Do elaborate, Mr. Foster."

"Our teams need time to recover and coordinate," I explained. "Half of us still have injuries from this morning, our pradavarian teammates are exhausted from magical compulsion, and we've barely had time to establish basic communication and team coordination protocols."

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"Plus I ate waaaaay too much, 'cus of your shenanigans," Adelle added, showing her cheetah canines at the Instructor. "My armor won't even fit properly."

Professor Fern ignored the cheetah and studied me for a long moment, her burning eye seeming to look straight through me. Then, unexpectedly, she nodded.

"A wise assessment, Mr. Foster," she said. "A capable captain knows when their team isn't prepared for a delve and makes the hard call to postpone rather than pushing forward towards death."

Katherine made a derisive sound from where she was standing. "Of course the weakling human wants to delay. Scared already, Foster?"

Professor Fern turned toward the red-tagged group, her scarred face twisting into irate disappointment.

"Silence," she commanded. The word carried magical weight that pressed Katherine back a step. "Your eagerness for violence betrays your immaturity as a delver, Miss Strand. A dungeon isn't a playground for your aggression—it's a calculated risk requiring perfect timing and preparation!"

"But we're ready now," Katherine protested. "We've got our gear, our weapons—"

"You have gear, yes," Professor Fern interrupted. "What you lack is discipline." She pointed at the floor. "Fifty push-ups. All of you. Now."

"What?!" Katherine sputtered.

"Let's make it seventy-five for your cheek," Professor Fern said coldly. "And if I hear another complaint, it becomes a hundred."

Katherine squawked in outrage, flashing dark violet, emerald-violet feathers fluttering.

"Would you prefer two hundred?" Professor Fern asked mildly. "I can accommodate your enthusiasm, Miss Strand."

The red-tagged students stared in disbelief before reluctantly dropping to the floor. Among them, I spotted Sage and Vivianne. Nessy's friends looked extra sour as they began their push-ups.

Professor Fern turned back to the human teams. "Mr. Foster is correct. Your teams require recovery time and coordination training. The dungeon simulation will take place every morning throughout the week. This will give you the necessary time to establish proper pack dynamics and give me the time to instill discipline into my layabout Dungeon Sentinels. Each team will go alone into the dungeon."

"Alone?" Owen sputtered. "But that means that…"

"The Dungeon Sentinels will greatly outnumber the delvers," Professor Fern nodded. "As is normal. Be glad that you aren't facing the Superstore where the number of potential things that desire to kill you is… infinite."

"Tt-they are going to destroy us!" Lisa stammered out.

"As is expected," Professor Fern repeated.

"Last year the delvers and monster teams had an equal number of…" Mark began.

"Mr. Chen," the magic fire above the Instructor's damaged mane flared for a moment. "I'm preparing you for delving, not playtime or cooking dinner. This isn't home ec. If you don't like my teaching methods, you're welcome to transfer to Delving 101 with Professor Lickshmidt which will prepare you for a career as a house husband taking care of his delver prad wife!"

As Professor Fern stalked away to continue berating the 'monster' students, the delver teams fell silent, contemplating the daunting task ahead of going into the simulation massively outnumbered.

"So," Mark said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "We should probably exchange contact info, yeah? Share strategies and stuff?"

"Good idea," I agreed, pulling out my battered phone. "Pradstagram work for everyone?"

The other human captains nodded, and we quickly formed a circle, tapping phones together to exchange contacts. Within minutes, we'd created a group chat titled "Human Leaders Support Group 🙃" featuring tags such as "#Human Alpha Training" and "#Because nobody told us how to do this shit."

The chat quickly populated with messages.

[Markyrrplaya📷]: Thanks again for the hierarchy tips, Alec. Going to try that with my team ASAP.

[Listerroni👾]: Same. My prads are literally at each other's throats. Will report back on how it goes!

[OwenTheUnprepared😹]: Anyone have advice on feeding?

[Markyrrplaya📷]: Feeding?

[OwenTheUnprepared😹]: Lion GF wants steak for din from the Slash House but the owl insists on lemming sprinkled with seeds from The Burrow. They're ready to cut me in half. Slaya halp me.

I smiled and pocketed my phone, leaving the others to sort out their issues, turning back to my own team. The four pradavarian femmes were still engaged in their supportive competition. Nessy was now humming a soft melody and kneading Kristi's shoulders while Candace was helping the others with their armor adjustments.

"Team meeting," I announced, drawing their attention. "Since class is effectively canceled for the rest of the day, we need to figure out our next move."

Adelle yawned in my direction, opening her mouth unnervingly wide as all cats do. "Sleep? Please say sleep."

"You're gonna be a bottom at this rate, my dude," Candace commented.

"Eh." Adelle shrugged. "Too tired to fret around like some loopy foxes are. Need a power nap or three before I can mentally get into this whole hierarchy domination through support biz."

"I, um, would like to leave the gym," Nessy commented, glancing at the students being tormented by Fern. "Before my… friends finish their pushups and…"

"Say no more, my dawg," Candace said. "As far as I know, Kris has the biggest vehicle that'll fit all of us. Let's head to her glider. If we're going to be a team, we will need a base of operations!"

"For sho'," Adelle agreed. "Gon' need a new domain. Something… magically potent. That reminds me. Hey, Kris, what'd you do with my bike?"

"I, umm… dropped it off at Alec's farm last night. Dad would have thrown a fit if he saw it in my van," Kristi said. "Figured nobody would bother to steal it from there if it was surrounded by a mountain of other random, broken junk."

"And how would yo dad kno' wats in your van?" Adelle asked, squinting at the raptor, clearly annoyed at the implication that her bike was junk.

"Garage scanner," Kristi sighed. "Estate Ward identifies absolutely everything that everyone brings in. He gave Kaledonya a three-hour long lecture when she brought a papercraft spider she found in the valley last year as a 'pet'."

"Fine fine," the cheetah said. "Then let's go to Alec's farm. I wanna see if I can get my baby fixed up."

"The farm it is," I decided. "Fair warning though—currently it's a pretty fucked up junkyard."

"Can't be worse than some of the dungeons we've crashed in," Adelle shrugged.

"Don't be so sure," Kristi muttered. "I've seen that place. It's... something else."

"You've been to his house already?" Nessy asked with what was possibly a jealous look.

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