The colony's training grounds lay shrouded in fragile morning silence, broken only by the faint hum of workers beginning their daily labor. A thin veil of mist curled low across the dirt paths, clinging to the grass like threads of silver.
Valeria stood tall before the scattered recruits. Her gaze was sharp, unyielding, her posture as rigid as the oaks lining the edge of the field.
On the ground, Ari, Rory, and Isla huddled together, slumped against the packed earth. Their breathing was uneven, shoulders sagging, muscles still tight from the brutal trial that had wrung the strength from every sinew.
Ari shifted uneasily, rolling his stiff shoulders until the joints cracked. A dull ache radiated down his limbs—the kind of soreness that only came from pushing past every known limit. The weight of the boulder they had spent days hauling still seemed lodged in his bones, a heavy echo of the ordeal. He flexed his fingers one by one, the joints tight, faint tremors running beneath his chitin.
Back when I was human, he thought, eyes narrowing against the pale dawn light, I would've collapsed on the first day. Weak. Scrawny. Always last in gym class. His jaw tightened as he drew in a steady breath. But here… here, I'm stronger.
A slow breeze stirred, carrying the faint scent of crushed leaves and damp earth. The morning air cooled the sweat on Ari's exoskeleton, but it did little to ease the fire burning in his muscles. His mind, sharpened by the ordeal, pushed past the ache, refusing to linger on it.
A sharp clap cut through the quiet. Valeria stood with her hands still raised, and every head snapped toward her at once.
"You endured a trial of endurance." Valeria's voice cut through the morning air, each word deliberate. She let the silence stretch before continuing. "But now we turn to something just as crucial—muscular endurance. In battle, it isn't enough to last long; you must be able to carry weight without faltering—whether it's your gear or the body of an injured comrade. You must resist collapse and push beyond what you think is possible."
Rory groaned, a low rumble deep in his chest, already regretting whatever challenge was coming next.
Beside him, Isla stayed curled into herself like a wounded creature. She lifted her head only slightly, her eyes glassy with fatigue, lips trembling as she forced out words.
"W-what… what exactly does that mean?" Her voice cracked, raw from exhaustion.
Valeria's smirk spread slowly, deliberate, almost mocking. "Simple. You'll lift a boulder nonstop for three days. Then, once that's done, you'll move into a plank position—boulder balanced on your back."
A heavy silence fell over the recruits, thick and suffocating, pressing against their chests like the weight of the task itself.
Isla's face twisted with dread and disbelief. "I—I think I'm going to die this time," she whimpered, her voice barely above a shuddering breath, shoulders trembling.
Rory exhaled sharply through clenched teeth, jaw tight, and nodded to himself, bracing for what was coming. "So… just raw strength, huh? Fine."
Ari's brow furrowed, thoughts churning. This was less training and more torture—but I'll keep silent, he decided, muscles coiled and ready, not yet willing to speak.
Valeria gestured toward the designated area of the training grounds, where enormous boulders lay scattered like ancient relics, their rough surfaces mottled with moss and cracks. Each stone was custom-chosen to match the strength of the ant meant to bear it. Isla's was small but unwieldy, Rory's was moderate, and Ari's—no surprise—was the largest, a jagged slab of granite that seemed impossibly heavy.
"You will hold the boulders above your heads for three days. If you drop it, you pick it back up. There will be no breaks. This time, you will not eat or drink to replenish your energy." Valeria's gaze swept over them, unwavering, every word sharp and absolute.
Isla's eyes brimmed with tears before they even began, shimmering like dew on fragile petals.
"Begin," Valeria ordered.
The instant Ari hoisted the boulder overhead, his arms cried out in sharp protest. A white-hot burning radiated from his forearms up to his shoulders, muscles trembling as they strained to stabilize the crushing weight. His feet dug deep into the dirt, toes curling to anchor him, his elbows locking into place despite the searing pain. The boulder pressed down on him like an immovable force of nature, relentless and unyielding—but he refused to surrender.
Beside him, Rory's jaw tightened until the muscles twitched visibly under taut skin. His hands clenched, knuckles whitening as his limbs quivered beneath the immense strain. This… this is just another test… Just another test… he muttered, breath uneven, voice barely above a whisper, a mantra to steel his resolve.
And Isla?
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
Her shriek shattered the morning calm, echoing across the clearing. She flailed beneath the weight of her much smaller boulder, limbs trembling as tears streamed down her face. "I CAN'T DO THIS!"
"You can," Valeria replied coldly, voice unwavering.
"You just don't want to."
"I REALLY CAN'T!"
"Then you'll stay here until you do."
Isla's sobs escalated, racking her slender frame with convulsions as she fought the overwhelming despair.
The hours slipped by, each moment stretching into an eternity. The pain became a constant presence, dull and sharp all at once, invading every nerve ending. Sweat dripped down Ari's forehead, mingling with the dirt beneath his finger. His arms trembled uncontrollably, vision swimming as fatigue threatened to pull him under. Every fiber of his being screamed to let go, to collapse into the forgiving earth—but his teeth remained clenched, his spirit unbroken.
Rory had fallen silent, his expression carved from stone. His breath came in steady, controlled bursts, each inhalation measured, each exhale a silent testament to his unwavering focus. He had endured harsh training before and knew that this, too, would pass.
Isla's voice broke the silence again, raw and frantic.
"My arms… they're not even mine anymore… I can't feel them…" she whimpered, voice breaking into a quiet sob.
"Don't give up, Isla, we have to get over this," Rory whispered, eyes never leaving the horizon.
"I'M TRYING, BUT I CAN'T GO ON!"
Ari sighed, exhaustion threading his voice despite himself. Something stirred inside him—perhaps a flicker of compassion, or frustration.
"If you have the energy to complain, you have the energy to keep going."
Isla's eyes widened, frustration flickering like wildfire behind her tear-blurred gaze. "HOW ARE YOU ALL SO CALM?! DOESN'T THIS HURT?!"
Ari looked at her, sweat tracing cold rivulets down his cheek. "Of course it hurts. That's the point."
She hiccupped, unable to find words to argue further.
Night crept over the training grounds, a velvet blanket speckled with stars. The three recruits still held their boulders aloft, bodies trembling but unyielding. No rest came. No sleep. Just the weight and the endless ache.
I'm still here. I'm still standing.
On the second day, Isla faltered.
Her boulder crashed down onto the dirt with a heavy thud, sending a small cloud of dust into the chilled air. She collapsed, shoulders shaking violently, sobs wracking her frail frame.
Valeria's gaze was steady, unflinching. She tilted her head and spoke in a commanding tone. "Pick it up."
"I can't!"
"Pick it up."
Tears streamed down Isla's cheeks, mingling with the dirt as she forced herself upright. Her limbs trembled like fragile twigs in a storm, but with everything left in her, she grasped the boulder once more.
Rory remained steadfast, nearing his limit. Sweat plastered on his skin, muscles twitching with exhaustion, but his willpower anchored him to the task.
Ari's thoughts drifted far away from the grueling present.
I am no longer inside my ant body.
I am human again—small, weak, fragile.
He remembered the bullies in the locker room, shoving him roughly for daring to speak to Keiko; the shame of failing even the simplest pull-ups; the constant betrayal of his own body.
That version of me would have collapsed already—but I'm not that person anymore.
By the third night, the exercise shifted.
They lowered themselves to the dirt, boulders settling heavily on their backs. The ground sank slightly beneath the weight.
Now the challenge was different—not just strength, but control. The burning ache in every fiber of their bodies was joined by the sting of trembling limbs and the sharp pinch of muscles fighting to stay rigid. Every small movement threatened to topple them.
Isla's sobs shook her entire frame, barely muffled against the dirt. She clawed at the ground as if to anchor herself, each breath jagged, tears mixing with the grime on her cheeks. Rory grunted low, muscles quivering, yet he held steady, jaw tight, eyes fixed forward with grim determination.
Ari's mind emptied. He ceased to think, ceased to fight. He simply existed, his body a vessel of pain and endurance. The limits he once believed unbreakable slipped away, dissolving with every tremor of muscle and every labored inhale.
Days passed in a haze of agony before Valeria finally called the exercise to an end. The recruits collapsed in a tangled heap, chests heaving, limbs numb and unresponsive. The earth beneath them was dark with sweat and dirt, the silence afterward heavy, almost suffocating.
Ari lay face-down, eyes half-shut, feeling the grit scratch against his cheek. Every muscle throbbed, a dull hum lingering even as the immediate strain receded. He could feel the phantom weight of the boulder still pressing on his shoulders.
Beside him, Isla sniffled, trembling as she lifted her head slightly. "It's… it's not stopping… it just keeps hurting… I thought I was going to die."
"You didn't," Rory said quietly, voice hoarse but steady. "That's what matters." His hand brushed the dirt, grounding himself before glancing at her with a faint nod.
Ari let out a dry, rasping chuckle. "Valeria… you really enjoy torturing us, huh?"
Valeria knelt beside him, smirking with that cold, satisfied gleam in her eyes. "If you think this is bad, you're not ready for war." Her gaze swept over them, measuring every tremor and ragged breath.
Ari closed his eyes, letting the rough grit of dirt press against his cheek, sinking into the earth as exhaustion claimed him. The physical weight on his shoulders was gone, but the ache lingered in his bones, a stubborn reminder of their ordeal.
I was weak before. But now… I have to become strong. And maybe… one day… I'll find a way back to my world. He drew a shuddering breath, letting the thought anchor him, fragile but real, a spark of hope in the haze of pain.