The battlefield had fallen eerily silent. The buzz of wings was gone; the flies had either scattered or lay still among the corpses. A metallic tang of blood clung to the air, mingling with the sour stench of ruptured bodies. Every breath carried the weight of victory—sharp, heavy, and costly.
A wave of cheers erupted from the worker ants, their voices rising together in sharp, overlapping bursts. Antennae flicked and trembled as some pulled each other into tight embraces, while others slapped backs with quick, shaky hands. Several dropped where they stood, their exoskeletons clattering faintly against the ground as they sat in exhaustion.
The military ants stood upright, shoulders squared, mandible weapons lifted high from their sheaths. Their war cries came low and guttural, echoing across the clearing with steady force.
"Yeah! We did it!" a military ant bellowed, his mandible blades slick with blood and sweat. Around him, the other soldiers shifted their stance, antennae flicking as they joined in the cheers.
"Glory to the colony!" another roared, chest rising and falling quickly. The sound was echoed by those nearby, voices overlapping and filling the clearing.
"We're alive!" a worker ant shouted, his voice trembling. Tears ran down his cheeks as nearby workers pressed close to one another, their antennae quivering. Some sank to the dirt, letting their limbs relax after the intense battle.
Ari exhaled, his breath uneven. Sweat and dirt coated his exoskeleton, making it sticky and heavy against his limbs. Every muscle burned, and his body sagged with exhaustion. The cheers from the colony reached him faintly, muffled across the clearing, while fragments of the battle replayed in his mind.
His legs finally gave out. He sank to the ground, mandible slipping from his hands and hitting the floor with a sharp clang. He panted, antennae drooping, twitching slightly with fatigue.
A shadow fell over him. Ari lifted his eyes to see Commander Ruth approaching, her movements measured. Her stern features softened slightly as she knelt beside him, picking up his mandibles and checking their balance. Her dark red eyes caught the light, sharp and unreadable, until a faint, careful smile flickered across her face. She extended a hand toward him.
"You did well. Stand proud."
Ari blinked, then hesitated before grasping her hand. She pulled him upright with surprising ease, the weight of his exhausted body shifting onto his legs.
"Thanks," he mumbled, voice low and uncertain, antennae twitching as he tried to steady himself.
I'm just glad I was able to protect them, Ari muttered, a small smile of relief tugging at his lips.
Commander Ruth's eyes lingered on him as he rose to his feet, brushing dirt from his exoskeleton. His uncertain grin—shy, almost disbelieving of his own survival—stirred something deep within her.
For the briefest moment, another face overlaid his: a young soldier from long ago, flashing the same fearless smile and speaking the same words after a hard-fought victory.
The image vanished as quickly as it came, leaving the hollow ache she had carried for years.
She straightened and handed him his mandibles.
"Hold on to these. They're proof of your strength."
Ari's fingers closed around the handles, the weight familiar and grounding in his hands. She shifted her weight, adjusting onto one leg, and straightened her posture. Without another word, she turned toward a group of soldiers tending to the injured, their hands moving quickly over wounds and brushing dirt from exoskeleton.
Brooks flexed his fingers around the handles of his mandibles, a faint, satisfied smile resting on his face. "It has been some time since I faced a challenge of that weight myself." He straightened, gaze sweeping across the clearing. "But you, Ari… you carried yourself with strength. That was well done."
Ari, still drained, gave a small nod. His antennae sagged low, and sweat mixed with dust clung to his exoskeleton.
Beatrice spoke true. His potential is remarkable. And now I see why Valeria has taken notice… it is not only his mind, Brooks thought, his eyes lingering on Ari before shifting back toward the others.
Not far away, Isla pressed her hands against her chest, her breaths shallow and uneven. "I… I didn't know if I'd make it," she whispered, voice quivering. Her antennae twitched restlessly as her wide eyes scanned the fallen, her posture leaning forward as though bracing herself.
Rory exhaled sharply, crossing his arms, the sheathed mandibles at his side clinking lightly. "We survived," he said, jaw tight, antennae flicking with frustration. "But if they had been stronger, we would not have lasted. I… I barely managed a few, while Ari… he cut through so many."
He clenched his fists, gaze fixed on the dirt beneath him. "We trained the same. Why is the difference so great? Perhaps… he is something unlike the rest of us."
Rory stood apart, arms crossed, the sheathed mandibles at his side clinking softly. His jaw was set, his antennae flicking with agitation.
We survived… but only just. If the enemy had been any stronger, we would have been finished. I barely struck down three, while Ari… he cut through so many. We trained the same, yet the distance between us is like a chasm. Why? What makes him different? Maybe… he is not truly like the rest of us.
Commander Ruth's voice cut through the murmurs, calm and unreadable.
"All units, tend to the wounded. Mild or severe, no one is left behind. Prepare to depart before another swarm dares an ambush."
She turned to Brooks. "Instruct your soldiers to retrieve our fallen. They will be given proper burial for the sacrifices they made."
Brooks inclined his head, his tone steady. "We lost a few, but they met their end with honor—for the colony."
At once, the worker ants moved with urgency, binding wounds and lifting the bodies of their comrades with careful hands. The military ants adjusted their stances, mandibles sheathed but grips firm, antennae lifted and twitching as they scanned the treeline for threats.
Once all was accounted for, Ruth spoke again. Her voice was low and flat, but it left no space for hesitation.
"Move out."
The workers pushed the wheeled containers, laden with supplies and the fallen, their steps steady though heavy. The military ants formed a protective ring around them, movements synchronized, antennae shifting in constant vigilance as the column advanced.
High in the canopy, three grasshoppers stood concealed among the branches, their green carapaces blending with the leaves. Each bore four arms, the spiked limbs folded close to their bodies, and the long sheathed mandibles at their sides glinted faintly in the dim light. They watched the ant column below in silence.
"Baracko, they're getting stronger," Courtois muttered, his antennae twitching as he shifted uneasily. His neck gave a faint crack as he turned his head. "Hopper will not like this."
Baracko stood tall and unmoving, arms folded. His voice was calm and steady. "At ease, Lanco. They faced flies. That alone does not mark them as a threat." His compound eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the march below.
"But… those three among them," Lanco pressed, his tone tight. "They could grow into a problem. Maybe even a threat to our order."
From behind, Sly gave a low, hungry laugh. "Want me to cut them down now?" His voice was rough, carrying a reckless edge. He leaned forward on the branch, hands flexing as if eager to drop into the fray.
Baracko shifted only enough to meet Sly's glare. "No. We will not." He raised one spiked arm in a small, controlled gesture. "We have not received orders. Stand down, Sly."
Sly clicked his tongue, irritation sharp in the sound. "Last I checked, I do not answer to you, Baracko. Did you forget we are both Hopper's generals?" He stepped forward, voice low and dangerous. With a quick motion he drew two mandibles from their sheaths and held them in his upper arms, blades flashing for an instant.
Baracko's expression did not change. "Killing them now gains us little. Let them gather all the resources they can. When they march weighed down by supplies, we take what we need. That will feed us far longer. This is the system Hopper has built over the years."
Sly barked a short laugh. "Tch. Why wait until winter nears when we can take everything now?"
"If you had taken time to learn the system, you would understand," Baracko replied, voice even. "Mindless slaughter of an expedition force costs us more than it gains. Patience secures resources for years."
Sly sheathed the two mandibles with a clack, the grin staying on his face. "Fine. You make a point. I will wait. Still… I wanted to test those three. See how hard they hit." His antennae twitched; his posture pulsed with impatience.
Baracko looked down again at the column. Looks like you still lead them well, Brooks. Even after all those years, you're still the noble soldier you were, he thought, his four arms relaxing at his sides.
"We've seen everything that we need to. Let's return to the fortress," Baracko said, his voice carrying easily over the quiet march.
Lanco lowered his head in agreement. Sly chuckled, stepping deeper into shadow, his energy coiled and hungry.
Back below, where the soldiers moved steadily, Ari sighed, dragging a hand across his brow. The exhaustion was expected. The disappointment was not.
I slew thirty flies, he thought, antennae drooping. Just like the quest said. So… where's my reward?
A soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Ari."
He turned to see Evelyn approaching. Her steps were hesitant, careful, and her face pale from the battle. She stopped a few paces away, eyes shifting nervously before settling on him.
"Oh… Evelyn," he said, relief slipping into his tone. "I'm glad you're uninjured."
She nodded quickly, her antennae lowering. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, brushing against her exoskeleton. "Me too… it was… terrifying. But I knew I'd be safe because you were there."
Her words trembled, and she glanced down at her hands before back at him. "You kept your promise to protect me… I wanted to say thank you."
Ari opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came. His gaze flicked between her hands and her face, unsure what to do.
Without warning, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
Ari froze, antennae jolting straight up. His face burned, heat rushing through him. He blinked, unable to process what had just happened.
Evelyn pulled back immediately, cheeks flushed, and scurried into the crowd of worker ants before he could gather his thoughts.
He stood motionless, jaw slack, heart thumping hard only after the contact, still trying to make sense of it.
What… was that? Did she just…?
Brooks, having witnessed the exchange, let out a hearty laugh. "Looks like you earned yourself a reward, Ari."
Rory snorted. "I wouldn't go as far as calling it that."
"You don't have to be jealous, Rory," Isla teased, still trembling from the battle. "If you want, I can give you a kiss on the cheek."
Rory's face heated instantly. He turned his gaze away sharply, folding his arms. "Shut up."
Laughter rippled through the group, a brief pocket of warmth against the lingering shadow of war.
But the celebration was short-lived. The road home was long, and in the darkness beyond the trees, unseen eyes watched them still. Something far more dangerous than flies lurked in the silence, waiting for its moment to strike.