The entrance opened beneath a ridge of black stone.
Air moved slowly inside, warm and wet. Drops of water fell from the ceiling and struck the ground in steady rhythm.
The walls were smooth in some places and sharp in others, coated in a thin layer of moisture that made them shine under the faint green light of fungi.
Threads of silk crossed the passage. They stuck to the armor or wings and clung to the fingers when brushed aside.
The smell was thick—nectar, dust, and mold.
Farther in, the ground softened. It was layered with fine powder from moth wings and scraps of dried cocoon all mixed with the dirt-packed earth. Each step gave a muffled sound.
The tunnel widened into a large chamber.
Dozens of moths moved across the floor and along the walls. Their wings made a low rustling noise that filled the air.
Pools of nectar reflected the light unevenly. The liquid was pale yellow and still, broken only when a drop from above disturbed the surface.
At the center stood a natural rise of rock that formed the seat, made of hardened stone. It rose from the ground in thick layers, built by many hands over time.
Behind it, strands of resin hung like curtains, blocking most of the rear tunnel.
Magnus sat on the seat with his wings folded. The air near him was warmer, carrying the steady hum of his breath.
A small group of moths landed before him, their antennae lowered. Dust rose from the floor where their feet touched down.
The sound of their movement was dry and soft, almost erased by the thick air of the cave.
The faint echo rolled across the chamber walls, breaking the steady rhythm of dripping water.
The moth's antennae swayed as it stepped forward, wings brushing lightly against the damp air.
"Magnus. Everything is proceeding as planned. The Moonveil blossom is in his possession. We'll meet in a few days, on the night of the full moon—when the flower's power reaches its height."
Magnus leaned back on the stone seat, the faint hum of his wings vibrating through the warm air.
A drop of nectar slipped from the edge of his cup and struck the ground with a soft tap.
"Thanks for the update, Hawks. It seems he intends to keep his end of the bargain. Good. Everything is falling into place—for me to claim the ultimate power."
Magnus lifted the resin cup to his lips, the thick scent of nectar rising as it touched the edge.
The faint light caught the liquid's surface, reflecting across his darkened exoskeleton.
"And what of Vorn's squad? The ones I sent after that Monarch and her guardians. I left her wounded—surely they've finished the task by now."
Hawks' wings trembled faintly as he stepped closer, his voice carrying through the heavy air. Drops of moisture slid down the walls, each one falling in slow rhythm.
"Well, you see… there's been a report—from the only survivor of that assault team. Vorn and his squad are gone. A single ant held them off long enough to protect Monarch Ignatia. Then her sister, Seraphina, arrived… and slaughtered them all."
The resin cup cracked under his grip; nectar fanned across the stone with a sticky hiss.
A faint scrape—chitin against rock—cut the chamber's hush.
Magnus closed his wings around himself, antennae barely shifting as his voice came, flat and controlled.
"I see… so one ant managed to survive an aerial assault. Impressive. Perhaps a lieutenant at most. Hmph… it seems they may have allies after all. That was not part of the report. If both sisters move together—along with a colony we know nothing about—it will become troublesome. We strike tomorrow night, when darkness covers the land. Before they become a threat."
Magnus lowered his hand, shards of resin glinting faintly at his feet.
His wings shifted once, the air around him rippling with quiet heat.
"Inform him. There has been a change of plans."
The moth's antennae twitched in acknowledgment. His wings opened with a soft pulse, stirring the damp air as he lifted from the ground.
"Yes, sir."
He disappeared into the tunnel's darkness, his wingbeats fading until only the sound of dripping water remained.
Magnus watched the small shape leave the chamber.
He set the cracked cup down with a slow, deliberate movement and closed his wings around himself once more.
The chamber returned to its hum.
The sound of the wind faded.
Ari heard something else — the sharp clap of chalk against a board, the faint hum of a ceiling fan, a pen tapping on a desk. The air felt heavier, stiller.
He blinked. The room around him was bright and flat, sunlight spilling across worn desks and scratched floors.
His classmates' voices drifted in small bursts — laughter, gossip, the sound of paper crumpling. None of it involved him.
He sat near the window, half-listening, half somewhere else. The air smelled like dust, old books, and the faint trace of cleaning spray.
Keiko leaned over from the next desk, her hair falling slightly forward as she glanced at his notebook. "You forgot your lunch again?"
Ari didn't answer at first. His pencil moved, tracing small lines in the margin — nothing, just shapes.
"I wasn't hungry," he said quietly.
She stared for a second, then sighed, pulling a small pack of bread from her bag. "You always say that." She tore it in half and slid one piece onto his desk. "Here. Eat it, or I'll tell the teacher you're spacing out again."
He hesitated, then took it, eyes down with a faint blush. "Thanks."
Keiko smiled faintly, not looking at him. "You could at least try to sound like you mean it."
Her voice was light, but it carried something steady underneath — something he'd never really known how to answer.
The classroom hum blurred. The sunlight on the floor began to fade, edges melting into shadow.
Ari looked up. The seat beside him was empty now.
He opened his mouth to say her name — but the sound caught in his throat.
The desks, the noise, the warmth — everything dissolved into the wind again.
Keiko....
A wet, soft sound brushed through the darkness.
Ari's chest shuddered as something moved over his arm, tracing slowly along his exoskeleton.
He couldn't see it, but he felt the weight, the pressure—deliberate, careful, measured.
Warm, slick movement slid across his exoskeleton. His antennae twitched without control, sensing the subtle contact.
The air smelled faintly sweet, like nectar, and the damp press of it against his body made his chest tighten.
His muscles spasmed, trying to respond, but he couldn't move.
Every heartbeat throbbed painfully, echoing in his legs and torso.
Another wet movement traced across his shoulders, and a shiver ran through him, unbidden.
His eyes fluttered open, at first catching only shapes and movement in the dim light.
The wet, slick sensation traced over his arm again, and he froze, trying to process what it was.
As his vision cleared, he realized. His breath hitched.
Seraphina was there. Her tongue moved over his body, deliberate and methodical.
The warmth and wetness pressed against him, sliding along his exoskeleton in ways his body hadn't expected.
"What… what is this…" Ari's voice cracked.
His antennae twitched uncontrollably, and heat surged through his body.
He could feel himself flushing beneath her touch, every nerve on edge as she licked him again, deliberate and slow.
"I see that you're finally awake, ant. I thought you would die."
Seraphina's tone carried no strain, her voice level and clear.
She lifted her head, blue eyes steady as they met his confused expression.
The slow beat of her wings brushed faintly through the air behind her.
Ari swallowed hard, chest rising and falling unevenly.
His eyes darted around, still unsure how to respond.
Ari's eyes widened as Seraphina shifted to stand.
Even in the dim light, the contours of her body were impossible to ignore.
The curves of her chest pressed against her wings, and the slope of her back led to the pronounced curve of her hips.
The line of her legs caught his attention before he could stop it, making his chest tighten and antennae twitch.
Ari's thoughts scattered, slipping between confusion and a strange pull he couldn't name.
Cut it out… she's just an insect. Just an insect.
His antennae twitched, the small muscles in his chest tightening as he tried to steady his breathing.
Each breath came too fast at first, then slowed as he forced control back into his body.
Ari turned his head toward Ignatia.
His eyes widened.
Her exoskeleton was smooth and whole, every trace of damage gone.
No marks, no bruising, not even a faint line where a wound had been.
"Your wounds…" His voice came out rough, uneven, barely holding together.
Ignatia's antennae shifted once before she turned toward him.
Her red eyes fixed on his face, steady and unreadable.
"Seraphina healed them. She also took care of your injuries."
Ari's gaze dropped to his own chest, arms, legs, and shoulders.
Every wound, every cut and bruise, was gone.
The hard lines of his exoskeleton gleamed under the dim light.
"What… but… how?" His voice cracked.
His body felt lighter, whole, but his mind could not keep pace with the sudden reality.
"You know," Seraphina began, her voice steady but edged with quiet authority, "apart from my sisters, you're the only other insect I've ever used my ability on. So be grateful."
Her gaze lingered on him as she continued, calm and direct.
"My saliva has healing properties. It's what closed your wounds."
She ran her tongue slowly across her lips, the motion deliberate, as if to make sure he understood exactly what she meant.
Ari froze for a moment, caught completely off guard by her words.
The realization hit him, and warmth rushed to his face before he could stop it.
"Now then, I haven't introduced myself, have I? I am Seraphina, one of the three High Monarchs of our Kaleidoscope—be sure to remember that."
Her voice flowed calm and precise, carrying quiet authority.
A faint smile curved her lips, her blue eyes glimmering with sharp awareness as she watched him.
"Thank you for protecting my sister. If you hadn't intervened, she would have died, and I wouldn't have been able to save her. I healed you as thanks."
Her tone was calm, wings folding slightly as her gaze lingered on him.
"I see… I'm Lance Corporal Ari. Nice to meet you."
His voice wavered at first, but he steadied it, antennae twitching as he tried to keep his composure.
"Don't get the wrong idea."
Her tone cooled, wings folding slightly as her gaze hardened.
"I appreciate what you did—but don't think we're on the same level."
Her expression shifted from composed to disdainful, her gaze lowering on him as if he were beneath her notice.
Ari's antennae flicked once, then stilled.
She's… confusing. First she puts her tongue on me, now she acts like nothing happened. In my world, that's called assault. And that attitude… what's with that superiority complex?
He drew in a slow breath, forcing the tension in his chest to settle.
"So then, if you don't mind me asking, why were they attacking you, Ignatia?"
Ari's antennae shifted slightly, tracing faint arcs through the air.
The air between them felt still, heavy with the scent of resin and faint nectar.
Ignatia's red eyes lingered on him for a moment, unreadable.
"I suppose I owe you that much since you saved my life."
Ignatia's eyelids lowered as she folded her arms across her chest, the faint scrape of chitin marking the motion.
A slow breath passed through her lips before she continued.
"We were ambushed in our meadows not far to the west. A large group of moths overwhelmed most of my guardians. I fought their leader, Magnus, but was forced to retreat after being wounded. He sent his soldiers after me to finish off both me and the few who survived."
Her antennae dipped slightly, the edges trembling before she stilled them.
The glow of her indigo wings dimmed as her tone settled into quiet restraint.
"So, the great Ignatia retreated from the battle after all?"
Seraphina's lips curved, her blue eyes glinting with mischief.
The faint flick of her wings stirred the air behind her, brushing a soft hum through the quiet forest clearing.
"I'm sure your guardians were shocked to see their proud Monarch turn her back."
Ignatia's antennae twitched sharply, wings giving a faint, controlled flutter before settling.
"A tactical withdrawal isn't defeat."
Her tone was steady, almost too calm, the chill in her crimson eyes matching the stillness in her voice.
"Well, in this case, it isn't."
Seraphina's antennae tilted forward, brushing faintly through the air.
Her wings shifted once, a sharp rustle cutting across the silence.
"Judging by the state I found you in, the flower was taken. You had one task, and you failed… so much for the most feared butterfly."
Her words landed clean and cold.
"You think I don't know the value of that flower? You think I'd run in fear, empty-handed?"
Ignatia's fist tightened, joints in her exoskeleton creaking under the strain.
Her wings trembled once, the faint hum of tension cutting through the air.
"My first thought was to secure it, but when I reached the hiding place, it was already gone."
Her antennae lowered slightly, the pulse beneath her throat visible as she steadied her breathing.
"I expected no less from that fiend. His intel is… astounding."
Seraphina's lips curved faintly, the motion small but deliberate.
Um… I'm confused. What about this flower? Why is it so important? Ari thought, his antennae twitching as he tried to make sense of the conversation.
Suddenly, Ari's antennae twitched.
Sounds cut through the air above.
A group of butterflies were descending.
From the group of four, one butterfly stepped forward after landing.
His blackish-brown exoskeleton caught the faint moonlight, gleaming subtly.
Black hair blew in the wind as he dipped into a deep, formal bow before Ignatia.
"Monarch Ignatia, I'm glad you're safe."
Nytheris's tone was steady, though the faint quiver in his antennae betrayed the weight behind his words.
"Nytheris." Ignatia's crimson eyes narrowed slightly. "So you survived as well—and without a scratch, it seems. What became of my guards?"
The edge of her voice was calm but threaded with tension.
"Unfortunately… most of them fell while fighting to reach you."
Nytheris's voice carried the heaviness of loss, each word measured and low.
"I see." Ignatia's tone was quiet, composed. Her antennae lowered a fraction as she drew in a slow breath.
"Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. We'll honor them by finishing what we started."