The colony sprawled just beneath the dirt-packed plains, a vast network of tunnels and chambers carved into the soil.
From above, the land appeared flat and unassuming, but below, the colony thrummed with life.
Exoskeletons glinted faintly under the soft glow of bioluminescent fungi and phosphorescent moss that lined the tunnels, highlighting the smooth curves of hardened earth reinforced by countless hours of labor.
Antennae flicked constantly as the workers transported dirt in the cylindrical structure, and stored the small portion of food supplies like berries found a short distance from the outskirts, packing it in the storage.
The muted click of armored feet against walls echoed in low, rhythmic pulses, blending with the faint hum of air moving through the tunnels.
Warden ants patrolled the lower chambers, their faces calm and alert, sheathed mandibles resting at their sides, scanning for any irregularity in the steady rhythm of the prisoners chipping away with their pickaxes, making way for new tunnels and chambers.
The southern edge of the colony marked the boundary between safety and the untamed. A ramp of packed soil led upward from the final tunnel, surfacing just beneath the forest canopy.
Rory, Isla, and Ari emerged from the dim, earthy gloom of their colony into filtered sunlight, the forest spreading before them like a maze of trees, roots, and underbrush.
The air smelled of damp soil and decaying leaves, carrying the faint bitterness of moss and the subtle freshness of the forest beyond.
Roots snaked across the forest floor, intertwining with rocks and hollowed stumps, forcing careful foot placement. Each step sent subtle vibrations through their exoskeletons and antennae, transmitting the texture and firmness of the ground beneath. Even the breeze brushing through leaves of all sizes above created tiny shifts they felt through the packed soil.
Rory sighed, his antennae drooping as he slashed through the tangled vines with his mandible, clearing a narrow path. Each cut sent fragments of foliage scattering across the forest floor, and his armored feet clinked against the packed dirt.
Ari walked just behind him, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. His armored feet clinked softly in rhythm with his stride, the movement almost lazy, calm.
Isla skittered along beside them, eyes darting nervously to every shadow. Her antennae twitched at the subtlest shifts in the air, brushing against leaves both larger and smaller than her, and she shivered. Her lips quivered slightly.
Rory exhaled through clenched teeth, shoulders stiff beneath his exoskeleton. His eyes flicked over the twisting underbrush, jaw tightening as he muttered, "I can't believe this. Out of all the assignments they could've given us… patrol duty?"
He shook his head, letting a small hiss escape as the blade met resistance. "I didn't enlist to waste hours wandering in the underbrush."
Ari's antennae lifted slowly, brushing against the warm air between them as he walked, exoskeleton clicking softly with each step. His gaze remained level on Rory, expression calm, lips barely parting.
"Rory… I haven't been a soldier much longer than you, but our duty extends beyond just defending the colony or wielding weapons," he murmured, tone steady. "Patrols are essential. Detecting threats early lets us plan, strike before danger reaches the colony. It keeps the colony safe—and reduces casualties."
Duty lectures again… exactly like Beatrice, Rory thought, his antennae flicking sharply as his jaw clenched. "Right… duty lectures again, huh? You're starting to sound exactly like Corporal Beatrice—always droning on about the colony."
Ari's lips curved into a faint, amused smirk as one finger scratched idly at his cheek, antennae flicking in quiet acknowledgment. He got me there. Everything I just said… it's exactly what Beatrice drilled into us when she delivered the Queen and Commander Valeria's orders for patrol.
Rory's antennae twitched irritably as he adjusted the grip on his mandible blades, eyes narrowing at Ari. "I could be honing my skills against you, Ari… yet here I am, stuck with the tasks of a low-ranking soldier."
Isla's antennae twitched as she shifted her weight, eyes scanning the forest shadows with practiced caution. "Well… technically, we are low-class soldiers. Just Lance Corporals."
She tapped a fingertip against her sheathed mandibles, the faint metallic click echoing softly. "Anyone below Corporal usually gets these missions."
A cautious breeze lifted her hair slightly, brushing her cheek. She tilted her head, lips quirking in a wry half-smile. "And honestly, I don't mind. I kinda like the quiet—less chaotic than the battlefield we've been through. It's fine so far."
Her gaze flicked to Rory, antennae stiffening slightly. "Besides, I wouldn't call your sparring real training. Every time you fight, it ends the same way: flat on your face before Ari even draws his mandibles."
Rory's antennae snapped forward, brushing against the edge of a leaf as his jaw clenched. "Shut it! I don't need you lecturing me when you're the one too hesitant to push yourself. Look at you…" His eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line. "…practically shivering."
Isla's antennae twitched wildly, brushing against the leaves as her cheeks flushed slightly. She stomped a foot, exoskeleton rattling softly, and her eyes narrowed with heat. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean? I've trained just as hard as you to earn this rank, and I'm not afraid!"
Rory exhaled sharply, fists tightening around his mandibles. "Fine… whatever. Let me focus."
He shot a quick glance at Ari, who strolled behind with hands clasped behind his head, calm as ever, footsteps soft against the packed earth.
I hate to admit it, but she's right. Privates and Lance Corporals are the two lowest ranks, so of course we ended up with a task like this. That time fighting the flies on the expedition mission… it was Ari's influence and abilities that got us here. Damn, this is irritating, Rory thought, jaw tightening and fingers curling lightly around his mandible blade.
Ari's gaze drifted upward, tracing the patchwork of sunlight filtering through the large and small leaves above. He shifted his weight, the soft scrape of armored feet against the soil barely audible.
Ever since the food supply expedition, everyone at the colony had been… off. Tense, on edge. I don't understand why.
The closer winter approached, the more strained the colony became. Even Commander Valeria and Corporal Lily were acting unusually, and Princess Tanya… she seemed worried, too. Ari let out a soft sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead.
Could it have anything to do with the grasshoppers Evelyn mentioned? The ones that destroyed her colony? Maybe I'm reading too much into it.
The forest floor stretched ahead, roots twisting across the packed soil and patches of loose earth scattered beneath leaves. Ari moved carefully, adjusting his footing with each subtle shift. Rory cut through stubborn vines ahead, muttering under his breath, while Isla trailed slightly behind, her gaze darting nervously to every shadow and rustle.
"This place is… I don't know," she murmured, stepping cautiously over a hollowed patch of dirt. Her hands hovered slightly above the ground, trying to sense the soil's firmness. "It doesn't feel right…"
Before anyone could respond, the earth beneath Isla shifted ominously. A faint cracking sound, like dry soil breaking under pressure, reached their antennae before her legs slipped.
"Isla!" Rory barked, launching forward, mandible blades sheathed, armored feet scraping against the packed dirt as he lunged. Ari crouched beside him, exoskeleton braced, antennae quivering as he scanned the unstable ground.
Isla pitched forward, her legs sliding through loose soil, sending small clumps tumbling into the darkness below. Her arms flailed, fingers clawing at air, antennae pressed against her head as she tried to sense something solid. "Ahhh! Help! I'm slipping! "she screamed, the vibration of her panic echoing through the hollow. The scent of disturbed earth and faint dampness rose sharply, clinging to her exoskeleton.
Another tremor rattled through the hollowed soil, tiny stones cascading down the crater's edge. Roots dangled overhead, slick with mud, and the slight vibrations made it impossible to gain purchase. Her body tensed, and a thin layer of sweat beaded along her thorax, antennae twitching erratically. "No! I can't hold on! " she cried, voice cracking, legs kicking frantically against the crumbling soil.
"Grab my hand! Don't move until I say so!" Rory commanded, planting his armored feet firmly against a thick root and leaning in. His exoskeleton scraped softly against the soil as he braced for leverage, every muscle taut under his shell.
Ari leaned closer, antennae brushing against the faint breeze rising from the hollow. "Careful," he murmured, the low vibration of his voice reverberating through the air. "The tunnels aren't just weak—they extend deeper. One wrong move could make this worse."
Clinging desperately to Rory's outstretched hand, Isla's legs scrambled for traction. Loose dirt crumbled beneath her tarsal pads, her grip slipping several times. Tiny fragments of soil brushed her abdomen and legs, the faint earthy smell sharp in her sensory organs. She shrieked, exoskeleton rattling against loose debris. Ari steadied her from behind, his armored chest pressing lightly against her back, antennae flicking in careful rhythm as if measuring each movement.
Rory shifted slightly, anchoring against the root, fingers tightening around her forearms. Inch by inch, they pulled her back to solid ground. Her antennae twitched wildly as they emerged, brushing against the breeze, dirt, and scattered leaves, and she collapsed onto the packed soil, chest heaving, tiny droplets of sweat clinging to her face.
"That… that was… almost it," she whispered, voice quivering, antennae drooping slightly as she wiped grime from her brow. Rory let out a sharp exhale, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders to release tension, the faint click of his exoskeleton echoing softly in the forest silence.
Ari straightened, scanning the crater's edge. "These tunnels aren't natural," his voice was soft. "Someone—or something—has been digging beneath the ground."
Isla glanced down, her eyes widening. "Yeah… and apparently I'm the first to test it," she forced a nervous laugh.
Rory shook his head, muttering under his breath, though his focus never left the crater. "Next time, watch where you step." Tension still lingered in his posture.
Ari's eyes caught the faint sheen on the exposed soil and dangling roots. Dark slime coated the jagged edges, glinting softly in the sunlight, and tiny fragments of dirt slid slowly toward the hollow below. Several hollowed-out tunnels twisted beneath the surface, their dark mouths hinting at unseen depths.
He shifted his weight slightly, feeling a subtle tremor through the packed earth—barely perceptible, but enough to set his senses on edge. His antennae quivered, brushing against the faint breeze and loose soil.
"We need to head back as soon as possible and inform Commander Valeria," he murmured, the low vibration of his voice resonating through the tense air. His armored feet scraped lightly against the ground as he added, "Whatever creature is responsible could be moving toward our colony."
Rory's jaw tightened, fingers brushing the grip of his mandibles. "I'm with you, Ari. Something like this can't be left unchecked."
The three exchanged a quick, tense glance before nodding in silent agreement.
Carefully, they began the trek back, each step deliberate. Loose soil shifted underfoot, and every subtle tremor reminded them that the ground beneath their feet could no longer be trusted.