Moonlight spread across the Colony, sharpening the edges of the tunnel walls and the stone ridges that guarded the upper levels.
At the eastern side of the training ground, large boulders rested in uneven rows, their rough and jagged surfaces holding faint warmth from the day's sun.
Beyond them, the terrain rose sharply, a sheer stretch of packed dirt and stone.
Along the outer perimeter of the colony, patrol soldiers stood at fixed intervals, their stances steady on the packed earth.
Antennae moved in slow, controlled arcs as they scanned the open terrain around the colony.
The fields showed no sign of movement, and the distant tree line held still under the night air.
Even with the quiet, the patrol remained fully alert, eyes tracking the ground and the horizon for the slightest shift.
Valeria moved through the tunnel with long, purposeful strides, her armored feet clanking faintly.
Beatrice followed a step behind, her hands held close to her sides, fingers stiff from the effort of keeping herself composed.
Her breathing stayed even, but her antennae drew in toward her cheeks, betraying the unrest tightening her chest.
I should've gone after him… but I chose the safety of the squad. Was that the right choice? Did I leave Ari behind when he needed me? What if...he doesn't return at all?
At the colony's main entrance, Valeria came to an abrupt halt.
Beatrice's thoughts scattered as she stopped behind her, spine tightening in reflex.
Valeria didn't turn right away.
She held her place for a steady breath, posture rigid, arms moving back as she crossed them behind her.
"…Explain."
The word carried a low, contained edge, controlled but sharp enough that Beatrice straightened before she could stop herself.
"I—Commander, I tried to stop him from running off, but Ari—"
"That wasn't my question."
Valeria turned at last, her eyes narrowing with a quiet intensity.
Her voice carried no anger when it came. The weight in it was heavier than that.
"Do you know why he broke formation?"
A faint hum passed through the tunnels as workers moved along the path behind them, each offering a nervous, respectful nod before continuing on.
Beatrice drew in a steady breath, trying to compose herself, but the guilt pressing through her chest still showed in the slight drop of her antennae.
"I… I don't know why… Commander."
Valeria remained silent.
Beatrice continued, her fingers brushing her thigh before she forced them still.
"He was badly injured and drifting in and out of focus. His antennae kept twitching—sharp, agitated movements I've never seen from him. It looked like he was reacting to something only he could sense."
Valeria's gaze lowered for a moment, a thoughtful tension settling around her eyes.
"He sensed something."
"Yes." Beatrice released a slow breath, keeping her posture steady. "At first I thought he was only injured and drifting, but then he muttered something under his breath."
Valeria's antennae lifted slightly, the movement tightening her focus.
"What did he say?"
Beatrice paused before answering, her lips tightening for a brief moment.
"He said… who are you? Then he suddenly took off so fast we barely saw him when he moved further into the forest."
"…He's always been reckless," Valeria murmured, her tone carrying more thought than reprimand. "But not without reason."
Beatrice lowered her head, antennae angling toward her cheeks as a tightness moved through her chest.
"I should've gone after him.
Whatever fate he meets… rests on me."
"No. Your choice to keep formation was correct. You kept your squad safe."
A steady breath eased from Valeria, her exoskeleton catching the faint tunnel light as she held Beatrice's gaze.
"You carry no fault in this. That reckless fool brought it on himself."
Beatrice's breath loosened for the first time.
Before she could speak, a sharp clatter of armored footsteps struck the surface level above them, the sound dropping into the entrance tunnel.
Valeria's eyes lifted toward the noise.
"What is all this commotion."
Valeria and Beatrice turned as two soldiers rushed toward them, their steps scattering loose grit across the tunnel floor.
Both ants' chests rose and fell quickly, antennae angled forward from exertion.
The first soldier stopped abruptly, armored feet grinding against the packed soil.
"Commander, Corporal Beatrice—movement outside the colony."
The second soldier snapped into a salute, his arm rising cleanly, breath still unsteady from the sprint.
"A full group approaching the main entrance—multiple unknown signatures. Ants are among them as well."
Valeria's posture tightened, her antennae rising slightly as she focused.
"Unknown?"
"Commander," the soldier reported quietly. "They're unlike anything we've seen. Their wings are vividly colorful, and their exoskeletons carry unusual natural pigments."
Valeria drew in a deep breath.
"Alert all available soldiers," she ordered immediately. "Form a perimeter. No one engages without my command."
"Yes, Commander!"
The pair pivoted sharply and broke into a full sprint, their armored steps striking the packed earth in rapid echoes until the sound thinned into the distance.
Shouts flared through the tunnel network.
Voices overlapping.
Orders rolled through the passageways.
"All squads to surface level!"
Valeria didn't hesitate.
"Beatrice. With me."
Beatrice drew in a steady breath, her antennae rising with focus.
"Yes, Commander."
They launched into a swift run through the ascending tunnels, their strides long and controlled.
Soldiers converged from connecting passages, the flow tightening around them as everyone pushed toward the entrance.
Armored feet struck the ground in a steady rhythm.
Hands stayed firm on the grips of unsheathed mandibles, the metal catching faint tunnel light as they advanced.
When they emerged into the moonlit clearing outside the main entrance, the cold air brushed across their faces and armor.
Beatrice halted mid-step, her antennae lifting sharply.
"What… are those."
Valeria kept her posture firm, her eyes narrowing as she studied the unfamiliar figures.
"Butterflies…"
Her breath tightened for a moment.
When I was a child my father always spoke of their wings with strong colors and detailed patterns… yet this is my first time seeing one myself. What purpose brings them here…?
The ants ahead stood in two defensive lines, shoulder to shoulder.
Mandible blades remained drawn in steady grips.
The night carried the low hum of wings and the tight tension stretching through the clearing.
The Butterflies continued forward, their pace steady and unaffected by the number of soldiers blocking the way.
Ignatia held the front position.
Her eyes stayed sharp, the red catching faint light as she studied the ants without hesitation.
The group of Butterflies advanced behind her, their wingbeats creating a faint, uneven stir along the clearing.
"Halt!"
Sergeant Samuel moved out from the front line, mandible blades held low but ready.
His posture locked into a firm stance, antennae angling forward as he raised one arm for his soldiers to brace.
"None of you advance any farther!"
The sound carried across the moonlit clearing, steady and forceful.
"Identify yourselves at once."
The ranks of ants closed in behind him, armored feet striking the ground in brief clacks as each soldier lowered into a combat-ready stance.
"Oh my… this is quite the welcome. I expected no less from your colony, servant."
Seraphina stepped forward with a soft lift of her antennae, her orange hair rustling lightly as the night wind moved across the clearing.
A calm curiosity settling across her face.
"But if they believe they stand a chance against me… that is a different matter."
A sharp glint formed in her blue eyes, her posture tightening with quiet certainty.
"You're really not helping, Seraphina… and stop calling me your servant."
Ari stepped out from the Butterfly group, his pace steady. His antennae angled forward in irritation, and a faint breath pushed from his chest.
Valeria stepped up beside Samuel, her stance firm and balanced, antennae angled forward in focus.
Her voice stayed low, but the firmness carried through the clearing.
"That's close enough."
Her gaze locked onto Ignatia, steady and unblinking.
"This territory belongs to Queen Celeste. If you've crossed into her domain without reasonable cause, then.... we will have to take action."
"Lower your weapons. Now."
Her piercing crimson eyes swept over them, unblinking, daring anyone to move.
A slow flutter of her wings stirred the dust at her feet—less a motion, more a warning.
"We did not come to wage war… unless your kind insists on it."
Her words sent several soldiers instinctively stepping back, their shoulders tense and their mandibles trembling in their grip.
Valeria exhaled sharply, crossing her arms, unimpressed.
"Is that so? And how do you intend to do that?"
Her antennae angled slightly toward Ignatia, her tone sharpening.
"Walk straight through our defensive lines of over two hundred soldiers?"
Ignatia tilted her head, crimson eyes narrowing with quiet, undeniable strength.
"If they stand in our way, I will cut them down and carve a path."
Silence pressed close—heavy, breathless.
"But needless slaughter serves no purpose. I am not here to waste time on bloodshed… unless you force my hand."
Valeria lifted her chin, meeting Ignatia's crimson eyes without flinching.
"Funny. I was told butterflies were regal, rational, peaceful insects."
Her antennae shifted slightly, steady and controlled.
"Strange. Yet you lack every mannerism worthy of a Monarch."
Ignatia's expression shifted for a brief moment, caught off guard by the remark.
She drew in a slow breath, her chest lifting once before settling.
Her crimson eyes narrowed, the red deepening as she fixed her focus on Valeria.
"A Monarch who lives on the battlefield does not cling to gentleness."
A faint rustle came from behind her.
Seraphina's orange hair slipped along her shoulders as she leaned in, her wings giving a soft crackle.
Her blue eyes brightened with amusement.
"Just admit it—she's right, sister. She saw right through your brutish nature."
Ignatia's antennae tilted back, irritation tightening the muscles along her jaw.
Her wings tensed behind her.
"Every sound that leaves your mouth is useless noise, Seraphina. Try silence for once."
A faint shift ran through her exoskeleton as she steadied her posture, crimson eyes narrowing with open annoyance.
"You will not insult my Monarch."
Nytheris stepped forward, his stance shifting into a guarded angle as he glared at Valeria.
The thorned whip slid from its sheath with a dry scrape against his black-brown exoskeleton, wings pulling close to his back as the atmosphere at the colony entrance grew heavy.
Valeria smirked, her antennae angling forward in sharp focus.
She drew both mandibles from her side; the metal edges caught the moonlight in a pale flicker.
Her stance shifted, armored feet pressing into the dirt until it gave beneath her weight.
"If you believe you can cut through our army… then you're welcome to step forward and test it."
How did it reach this point? I need to stop it—now.
Ari moved in fast, stepping between both sides.
His antennae twitched under the weight of hundreds of focused gazes, the pressure in the air tightening around him.
His eyes swept over the surrounding soldiers, searching for any sign that someone would lunge first.
"Alright—enough. Hold for a moment, all of you."
Both arms lifted, palms open toward each side, his shoulders stiff with urgency.
The surrounding soldiers hesitated, lowering their mandible-blades for a brief, uncertain heartbeat.
Beatrice's jaw loosened, her eyes widening.
"Ari… you— you're alive… and your wounds—"
Valeria didn't speak.
Her gaze swept over him in a slow, deliberate pass—the clean exoskeleton, the lack of bruising, the firm posture he stood with.
Her eyes stayed on him long enough for his breath to tighten in his chest, antennae drawing slightly inward.
"Uh… Valeria…"
For a heartbeat, Valeria didn't breathe.
She only glared, antennae angling forward in a slow, predatory focus.
Then her lips curved—gradual, deliberate.
A dark smirk formed, quiet and full of satisfaction.
"I see… so you lived."
Ari went still.
Fear marked his face immediately, tightening the muscles around his eyes and drawing his breath short.
His hands trembled at his sides.
"Um… Valeria… what do you mean?" His voice came out thin, barely steady.
She stepped forward, the smirk fixed in place, her antennae tilting with controlled intent.
"I'm pleased you survived. But you will regret it. I'm going to kill you myself."
Ari's pulse kicked hard against his ribs, breath tightening.
She means that… every bit of it. I'm done for…
Valeria lifted her chin, the movement crisp, dismissing the moment with cold authority.
"But that will have to wait."
"Looks like my servant is in trouble."
Seraphina's wings gave a light, amused flutter behind her, blue eyes narrowing with playful cruelty.
"Do you want help, Ari? I'll offer it… if you beg on all fours."
Her tone warmed with mock sweetness, the corners of her lips lifting as she watched his reaction.
"As if I'd ever stoop that low."
Ari fired the words back, a sharp breath pushing from his chest as his jaw tightened.
This is getting out of hand… what am I supposed to do…?
Ari's thoughts stumbled as he looked from the Butterfly sisters to the rows of ant soldiers, his breath tightening.
Then suddenly a soft, amused chuckle traveled in from behind the Butterfly formation.
It rolled through the space at an unhurried pace, drawing every glance toward the source.
"Well now… this night became lively far sooner than I anticipated."
Brooks stepped into view, emerging from the dim edge of the entrance path with an unhurried stride.
His squad followed in a tight formation behind him, their footsteps landing in a steady, unified rhythm.
The faint scars across his body caught the moonlight in thin, uneven lines, and strands of gray threaded through his hair, giving him a worn, seasoned edge.
Beatrice's eyes widened, her breath pressing tight against her throat.
Lieutenant Brooks…? What is he doing here…?
Valeria's antennae twitched in a sharp, controlled snap as she turned toward him.
"Lieutenant."
Her voice carried a firm edge, steady and cold.
"Explain yourself."
Brooks's eyes narrowed by the smallest degree, a thin glint forming in them—cold, sharp, focused.
His shoulders drew back, posture locking into something firm and disciplined.
He raised one hand, just enough for every soldier to catch the movement.
When he spoke, his voice carried nothing but command.
"Stand down, soldiers.
That is an order."