Lead by an example of lead... Uh, pun. Go find Jorrel.

You walk back to base camp, then down the stairs, then down a hallway, then past Jorrel, then-- wait.

"What are you doing?" You ask, standing next to Jorrel. He's leaning back, looking up at something near the top of the door.

Jorrel, absent-mindedly, muses out loud, "I'm trying to understand what a Brak Room is. Is it a place, an object, a... whatever."

"Going to use it in a play?" Usually that gets him talking. Ask him anything about what he might be writing or might think about writing, and Jorrel can talk for hours. Get him to talk about pretty much anything related to relations and he'll clamp up like a... like a clam. You need to get out more.

"I was thinking so. People are still raving about the one where three idiots gets stuck on a conveyor belt and, instead of heroically saving them by pushing the release button, the hero accidentality--"

"I'm still sorry about that one." You mumble. "Sorry."

"Why? It made for a fantastic story and we're still here." Jorrel’s expression seems to be wavering between judgement and disgust. Understandably it settles on confusion.

"You guys almost died!" Your voice breaks and might have given Jorrel the impression that you're about to cry since he abruptly changes topic. Can’t fault Jorrel for that. You’re a handful and when you cry it tends to be a waste of time. Can’t fault anyone for not wanting to deal with you, really.

"It also commands - whoever lived here - to only employ E. What is E? How many?"

Thinking for a moment, you guess, "Robots. The answer is always robots with these guys."

"Or biological monstrosity!" Shuddering, he takes the conversation somewhere else entirely. "Anyway, wanna see what's behind this door? It's the least threatening I’ve found, soooo...."

"Sure!" From your jacket pocket, you grab a couple of glow-sticks and crack them with a satisfying snap. Inside, the liquid begins to glow a pale green. It won’t be much better than darkness, but preferable to only Jorrel’s flashlight.

The door hasn't crept more than an inch before something lunges from inside the room. A sliver of black liquid hisses through the air, barely missing Jorrel and hitting the wall behind you. With a splat and a sizzle, the wallpaper starts bubbling, deforming in a neat line as the black liquid spills down the wall.

"Move it!" Jorrel shouts, shoving you out of the way as another acid spit hisses past you.

You land, hard, for the second time today. Jorrel whips his flash-light around ready to use it as a cudgel. To compensate you throw the glowsticks through the crack. Now, whatever lurks behind the door, can enjoy proper ambience suitable for its creepiness.

Not more than a minute could have passed since Jorrel shoved you, still, it feels like hours. Waiting in anticipation for any movement. And then it comes - a clicking - a clacking. From the lowest point of the door, a long metallic spider-leg creeps out. Jorrel smashes it instantly. You can't take any chances with ancient man machines. It might be shooting liquid from its legs. The leg might be a sonar device that'll leave you deaf for half a day. It might provide condiment for a salad bar. You never ever know what bullshit might be waiting.

You pull out a wrench from one of your handy pockets and deftly make it back on your feet, following closely behind Jorrel as he barges into the room. Jorrel is still trying to get an overview when you spot your attacker. They’re small circular things with spider legs. A middle casing with a boiling liquid swills inside a glass dome, as they crawl on walls and ceiling, everywhere. Unable to get a proper count, you spot at least twelve.

"Spider bots, crawling on counter right and some on sink left!" Like the idiot you are, your own words provide the distraction necessary for a spider bot to make its move. Lunging through the air, it attaches itself to Jorrel.

“Get it off,” He screams, trying desperately to reach behind his back to grab it, dropping his flashlight in the process.

Without any weapons, you can only look in horror as it crawls to his front and clampers on his head. Flash-light! Thinking quickly, you dive for the cudgel by his feet, but it’s already too late.

“Shiv, hel—” Jorrel is interrupted as the bot forces itself inside his mouth. The black liquid in it’s casing rumbling. You could smash it… and give Jorrel a shattered-glass facial.

Then the hissing noise begins and Jorrel falls to the floor, arching his back and still attempting to grapple it off his face. Eventually, he goes limp. The bots are converging around Jorrel’s body. The amount of liquid inside the face-hugging spider bot’s dome sinks slowly. Likely being deposited inside Jorrel, melting his insides. As the las droplet disappears, the converging bots starts beeping, raising their front legs in triumph. Unlatching from Jorrel’s mouth, the spider bot raises its front legs, slowly turning to the chorus of cheering noises from its compatriots. It almost looks like a tiny gladiator celebrating a conquest.

“Worst. Experience. Ever.” Jorrel sits up, startling you, and he swipes the spider bot off him. It scrambles around with its friends, still keeping close, and beeping cheerfully. Just a second later, your confusion passes and you find yourself on your knees, hugging Jorrel close.

"I’m okay,” he assures you. You do not let go. If you let go, you will cry from sheer relief. Always gnawing inside of you, this seemed to be the day one of you would actually have died. As long as you hold on to him, this is real, this isn’t the day. The moment you let go, you’ll find yourself crashing back to reality, staring at Jorrel’s lifeless body.

Muffled and out of breath, he manages to say, “It's coffee. Look at the beans on the ground."

Unlatching yourself from him, you pick one off the floor. Sure enough, it's a genuine coffee bean. A spider bot crawls across the floor and vacuums up a couple. Along a grinding noise, the boiling liquid rises inside its glass dome. When full, it beeps in quick succession at Jorrel.

Glaring at the bot, Jorrel says, “No. No thank you.”