Queen Celeste's eyes widened, and her wings fluttered nervously behind her. She leaned slightly forward, her fingers fidgeting at the edge of her throne.
"So what you're saying is that a termite colony was discovered somewhere near one of the training routes?"
Valeria stood tall, her armored exoskeleton gleaming under the chamber's light. Her antennae swept sharply from side to side as she addressed the Queen and elders, each movement precise and controlled.
"Yes. One of our recruit squads was almost completely wiped out by an assault of three termites. Fortunately, Ari happened to be with them. He and another recruit each took down a termite and severely injured another, saving their own lives," she said, her voice firm and unwavering, leaving no room for doubt.
Queen Celeste folded her hands delicately in her lap, her wings settling gracefully behind her. Her gaze swept over the council, calm yet commanding.
"I see. In any case, we must be grateful that some of our recruits returned alive. And now we know a termite colony lies hidden nearby. Termites are highly dangerous foes, capable of harming almost any insect with their toxic acid. If left unchecked, they could pose a serious threat to our colony in the near future."
One of the elder ants straightened his posture, his antennae swaying slowly as he considered his words.
"My queen, that is preposterous. Termites take months, sometimes years, to establish a colony. There is no way such a colony could have appeared suddenly or gone unnoticed for so long—not with our scouting teams patrolling the terrain beyond the colony every day," he said, his voice steady and measured, carrying the weight of experience.
The elder's antennae twitched violently, and his posture stiffened as he spoke, each word cutting through the chamber.
"Then that must mean the scouting troops are not performing their duties adequately! How could a threat with the power to wipe out our entire colony be missed?"
Valeria shifted her weight slightly, the plates of her exoskeleton clicking softly as she exhaled. Her antennae swept back with controlled precision, a subtle sign of her focus.
"That is not the case. I cannot deny that before the new recruits began their training, the scouts performed their checks and deemed the area safe. However, they are not at fault. I should have ensured that every zone was thoroughly inspected. Had I done so, we would not have suffered so many casualties."
Queen Celeste leaned back slightly in her throne, wings settling gracefully behind her. Her eyes softened as she regarded Valeria, and her hands rested lightly on the armrests.
"There is no use blaming yourself for what happened, Valeria. Let us focus on addressing this threat before it endangers our very existence."
Valeria's antennae twitched sharply as she straightened her posture.
"That's right. Which is why I brought Ari with me—to lay out our strategy for eliminating them." Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
One of the elder ants clicked his teeth in irritation, his exoskeleton plates bristling slightly. His antennae swayed with disbelief and anger.
"That outsider again? Why should we let him take the lead on a matter that does not concern him?"
Valeria's antennae flicked sharply, her armored plates clicking as she straightened her posture.
"After his plans saved our colony from Helena's army, you dare call him an outsider? I care little for your titles, council—show some respect where it is due."
Valeria ignored the responses and murmurs of the elders, her antennae flicking sharply as she fixed her gaze on Queen Celeste.
"I made him in charge of this mission. Is that alright, Your Majesty?"
Queen Celeste's wings fluttered lightly behind her as she leaned forward, her fingers resting gracefully on the armrests of her throne.
"I do not oppose your judgment, Valeria. Ari has proven himself invaluable to our colony. I will entrust him with the command of this mission and grant him authority to determine our course against this threat."
Valeria's tone was clipped, her antennae twitching as she gestured toward the chamber doors.
"Very well. Ari—new recruits—enter."
Isla shuffled in with a pout, her mouth tightening slightly as she muttered under her breath.
"Commander Valeria is so cruel… she didn't even remember my name. That's just unfair."
Rory stepped in behind her, his eyes widening as he took in the vaulted chamber and the line of elders seated in silence. His voice dropped to a whisper, tinged with awe.
"So this is the council's hall… the room of the great elders. I've never set foot here before—and it's all thanks to Ari."
Ari leaned in, voice low against Valeria's ear.
"Thanks for sticking up for me."
Valeria's antennae flicked once; a faint heat rose at her cheeks before she tamped it down. She jabbed him in the ribs—hard enough to make him grunt.
"Shut up."
Ari rubbed his side, grin crooked despite the ache.
"Man, she still packs a punch."
Valeria straightened, plates clicking as she set her jaw and pushed the moment aside. Her tone returned to her usual clipped manner.
"Enough. Back to the matter at hand—here's the plan."
After the elders and Queen Celeste approved the strategy, a dispatch of four hundred ants was assembled and placed under the joint command of Ari and Valeria to purge the termite colony.
After traveling for over seven days, the soldiers of the ant colony finally reached the far edge of the training route—the place where the ambush had occurred.
The journey had been long and punishing.
They moved through the underbrush like a living current, boots sinking into damp moss and leaf litter with each disciplined step. Towering blades of grass loomed like trees, casting shifting shadows across their path. Thorny vines crisscrossed the terrain, some as thick as their arms, forcing them to slice through or detour around.
Ari crouched low, running his hand across the scorched earth. The brittle soil crumbled between his fingers as he rose to his feet.
"This is where they attacked us," he said quietly.
The clearing bore the scars of violence. A wide, blackened scorch mark marred the once-green grass, its edges curling inward as if the earth itself had recoiled from the heat. The soil beneath was still cracked and brittle, despite the passing days. Scattered along the perimeter were remnants of the fallen—shattered mandibles glinting faintly in the filtered sunlight, half-buried in dirt or tangled in the roots of nearby weeds.
Isla's gaze swept over the scattered remains, and she quickly turned her head away. Her voice was low, uneasy.
"There's nothing left of them… just their mandibles. Not even bones."
Ari's eyes followed the faint grooves in the dirt, his antennae twitching as he traced the direction. He lifted his chin toward the dense brush.
"Judging by the path it took, their colony should be that way."
He moved forward without waiting for confirmation. The soldiers fell in behind him, their armored boots thudding in rhythm over the forest floor. The air grew heavier the farther they marched—thick with the scent of wet bark, decay, and something acrid lingering just beneath it.
Eventually, the forest thinned, and a grim silhouette rose ahead.
At the center of a hollowed glade stood a massive, rotting tree stump, its surface warped and hollowed by generations of termite burrowing. Its sides riddled with tunnels and gnawed-out vents that hissed with faint vapor. Faint lines of moisture traced down its bark like dried veins, and the ground surrounding it was littered with the corpses of dead vegetation—stripped clean and forgotten.
Ari stepped closer and pressed a hand to the damp, brittle bark. It crumbled under his touch—dry, fragile, and layered with resin that caught the light.
"Just as I thought," he muttered. His eyes narrowed on the rotting stump.
"The colony's massive… and fortunately for us—it's flammable."
Valeria's gaze lingered on the hollowed stump, her arms folding across her chest. Her voice was steady, clipped.
"You were right. A reckless charge would have gotten us all killed. So—what's your plan, Ari?"
Ari scanned the clearing, eyes narrowing on the scattered brush and fallen branches.
"First, gather every stick, branch, and log you can find. We're going to need all of it."
Isla shifted uneasily, glancing between the rotting stump and Ari. Her voice wavered with uncertainty.
"Um… Ari? What exactly are we doing with all that wood?"
A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Simple. We're going to start a fire."
A ripple of shock passed through the ranks of soldiers, their antennae twitching and mouths tightening as murmurs spread.
Valeria's eyes narrowed, her antennae angling forward with precision. Her voice cut through the noise, calm but edged with disbelief.
"What do you mean by creating fire? That is impossible. Only the fire ants possess such an ability."
"It doesn't surprise me that you don't know how to start a fire. Well, let me show you."
Ari pressed the two sticks together, rubbing them rapidly. Thin wisps of smoke curled upward at first, teasing the air with the faint scent of scorched wood. The ants leaned forward, uncertain, as the smoke thickened and blackened. Then, almost suddenly, a bright orange flame leapt to life, crackling sharply between the sticks.
The soldiers recoiled instinctively, antennae bristling and mouths agape, staggering back as the blaze flickered in Ari's hands. Shock rippled through the ranks—none had ever seen fire appear so abruptly, nor in such a controlled manner.
Valeria's antennae twitched as she observed him, eyes narrowing in cautious curiosity.
Who exactly are you, Ari? she wondered, a hint of reluctant respect threading through her thoughts.
Ari's gaze swept over the stacked branches and logs, and with a swift motion, he scattered the small flames across the pile. Sparks hissed and crackled as the fire took hold.
"As I said earlier, we're going to flush them out of their colony. Anyone who tries to escape the flames… we slay."
The heat licked at their faces, and the acrid scent of smoke filled the clearing. The soldiers instinctively shuffled back, the flames dancing and growing with every tossed ember.
The first scream came muffled, echoing from deep within the hollowed tree stump. A second followed, sharp and frantic, then dozens more erupted in rapid succession, filling the clearing with a chaotic chorus of terror.
Ari stepped back from the blaze, watching as the smoke thickened and the flames began to crawl up the resin-veined bark. The fire hissed and popped, devouring the dry wood with relentless hunger.
From within the hollow trunk, frantic scratching grew louder. Then the termites burst out.
Dozens at first, pouring from the tunnels in a panicked flood. Their eyes were wild with pain, their chitin scorched and peeling. Some still smoldered as they fell into the open, clawing at the ground in confusion.
Beatrice's voice cut through the thickening smoke, sharp and urgent.
"Take them out! Don't let them escape!" Her antennae bristled as she advanced, eyes scanning the flames for any sign of movement.
Lines of fire lit the battlefield, casting flickering shadows across the charging ants and the stumbling termites. Screams tore from the colony's interior as more termites emerged—blackened, disoriented, but still dangerous.
Acid hissed through the air.
Streams of corrosive fluid shot out from termite claws, splashing against the dirt and melting it into bubbling muck. But the ants kept moving—dodging, weaving, diving behind rocks and exposed roots.
"That ant wasn't lying!" a soldier barked, his antennae twitching with urgency. Smoke stung his eyes as he gestured toward the advancing termites.
"They can only fire in straight lines or tight angles—they're wide open if we scatter!"
Valeria needed no such reminder.
She was already in motion—blurring across the battlefield with lethal purpose.
Gripped in each of her hands were two massive mandibles—curved and serrated. She spun them effortlessly, like extensions of her own limbs, slicing the air as she sprinted straight into the chaos.
The first termite turned too late.
Shunk. The left blade cleaved through its wrist before it could raise its arm. She pivoted on her heel and followed through with the right—an upward arc that cut through thorax and spine. It dropped without a sound.
Another charged her from the flank, hissing acid pooling at the edge of its palm.
She dropped to one knee and slid beneath the attack, the acid sailing overhead—then exploded upward with a crossed slash, both mandibles flashing as they split the termite from hip to shoulder. A spray of ichor painted the ground behind her.
Her footwork was surgical—sidestepping a lunge, leaping over a splash of acid, twisting mid-air to land a clean strike that opened an enemy's abdomen. She didn't waste movement. Every dodge was tight. Every kill, clean.
From the left flank, Rory stumbled into the chaos, his eyes wide with adrenaline. Unlike the veterans, his stance was tense, reactive—but still, he pushed forward with courage that hadn't yet hardened into instinct.
A termite hissed and raised its palm.
Too close.
Rory dove forward on instinct—just as a bolt of acid blasted over his back, sizzling into the bark behind him. The heat scalded the air.
He rolled once, then sprang to his feet and swung his jagged lance upward with a wild cry. He slashed through the termite killing it in the process.
"I… I got one," he breathed, stunned.
"I actually got one…"
But just a few steps away, Isla stood frozen.
Her mandibles shook in her hand.
She stared at the battlefield—a burning tree stump surrounded by corpses, acid melting soil, screams of death and the clash of mandibles.
It was too much.
The noise. The smell. The heat.
A termite ran past her without noticing—drawn to another target—and she didn't even raise her weapon.
Her knees buckled slightly.
"I… I can't…"
She gritted her teeth, but her limbs refused to respond.
"Not now…" she whispered, her voice low and tense.
"Why now?" Her chest rose sharply as frustration prickled along her antennae.
Smoke curled past her legs. Another scream echoed. And Isla just stood there, trembling, lost in the storm.
Then—a growl.
Her heart plummeted.
Slowly, her head turned toward the sound.
A hulking termite had locked eyes on her. Its arm was raised, acid already gathering in its palm, sizzling and spitting as it prepared to fire.
Her antennae jolted, panic rattling every nerve in her body.
"What… What do I do? I've never—I've never fought—"
Her mandibles rattled uselessly in her hands. Her heart slammed against her ribs, but her body refused to move.
"Move… come on! Move," she hissed under her breath, jaw tight and antennae bristling.
Her legs trembled violently, but they refused to obey, rooted to the scorched ground as frustration and panic coursed through her.
Her breathing quickened.
Her eyes darted frantically, searching for someone—anyone—to save her.
"Please… someone… help me—"
The termite aimed its acid-coated hand, its growl deepening as it launched the deadly shot.
A silver blur slashed across Isla's vision.
Beatrice.
With a clean, practiced sweep of her mandibles, she severed the termite's arm and followed through with a brutal finishing strike. The termite crumpled at Isla's feet.
Beatrice's voice rang sharp and firm over the crackling flames.
"Look alive, recruit! If you want to survive out here, you face your fears—or you perish." Her antennae twitched with intensity as her gaze swept the smoke-choked clearing, scanning for any sign of hesitation.
Isla's chest heaved, wide-eyed, the echo of her heartbeat louder than the battle around her.