Night fell, or rather, the ambient glow of the crystals seemed to deepen in color as they dimmed, casting longer, more menacing shadows across the cavern. Sleep, for the besieged students, was no longer a refuge; it was another form of torment. The new, unknown sound was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Tap… scrape… tap-tap… scrape…
It wasn't loud, but it was relentless. The faint, rhythmic noise that Pat and Shirou had first identified now seemed to emanate from the very core of the mountain, a slow, methodical sound that was now impossible to ignore once recognized. It was the sound of something patient, working in motion as a machine. It vibrated through the stone floor, a constant, unsettling reminder that they were not alone in the darkness.
"Bump in the night! Or rather, scrape... tap... scrape..." The Great I commented, my voice a low, amused whisper in my surrounding void. "Is it the sound of settling rock? Or perhaps giant mutant moles chewing their way towards our hapless heroes? Yes, it could be demons crawling up from the depths of hell to devour my little lambs. Either way, it's wonderful for keeping them awake and terrified! Nothing like a little sleep deprivation to hasten a complete mental collapse."
The students huddled in tense, silent groups, their eyes wide in the gloom, fixed on the solid rock walls as if they expected a monster to burst through at any second. This new, strange rhythm filled every pause in the distant chipping from their own escape tunnel or the rhythmic chattering of the teeth of the children.
"What is that?" Jessie Viano whispered, her hands clenched tightly, her delicate wings trembling. "It sounds like... like someone's knocking or dragging a shovel."
"It's been going on for hours," Steve Birk responded, his voice a low rasp. He lay flat on the ground, his limbs spread out, trying to sense the vibrations. "It's steady. It's not a rock slide off in the distance. It's... an organized movement much like our own digging team. Maybe some other life form or monsters are digging tunnels too? I don't know, but I am beyond agitated from it constantly scraping the back of my mind."
Ah, the music of madness. A metronome to add misery and paranoia. The relentless tap… scrape… tap-tap… scrape… had become the new diseased heartbeat of the cavern, a baseline to the frantic melody of their fear of the unknown, made manifest into reality. The chipping from their own tunnel was a frantic prayer for escape, a desperate scratching at the walls of their cage like wild beasts or trapped prisoners.
"Observe, Humanity, the exquisite turning of the screw of an unhealthy mind," I purred to my silent audience. "Their sanctuary is a tomb, soldiers besiege their only exit, and now, the walls themselves whisper of new horrors. They cannot go up. They cannot go forward or down. And they know that they cannot stay put. Oh, these moments of despair and paranoia are like a sweet treat of simple candy, though I do long for more than simple honey and gumdrops, right, Humanity?"
The lack of sleep was spreading as a visible poison among the group. Faces were gaunt, movements were sluggish, and tempers frayed with the slightest friction. Some even started shiver in fright at the sight of one another, as they continued to be horribly reminded of their new forms that were still alien to each other. It mattered not that they had some strange miracle drug within their food; they wilted like dying plants, all the same.
The organized work of digging and mining continued, but it was mechanical, driven by a terror that had exhausted adrenaline and now ran on sheer anxiety and desire, which slowed the work.
Finally, Ms. Linz could take no more. Her face strained with lack of composure, as proof that the sound had broken through the dam of their focus were the even darker bags under their eyes. She called a council meeting.
And so, the council of the doomed convenes once more. See how they scuttle to the center of the cavern, hiding from the big, bad soldiers above! It's adorable. The ambient light is a master artist, painting their exhaustion in lovely shades of purple and black beneath their eyes, only to be highlighted by the faint glow of the crystals all around. They look like walking corpses trying to decide the seating arrangement for their own funeral.
Ha, it's just such a delightful sight to witness; sadly, you readers are bound by your pitiful imaginations. Not able to take in such wonders for yourselves, but that frustration is a small treat for me as well. So I thank you. Now, read on, little masochists. Hahaha!
"We have to talk about that disturbance, the sound that is slowly unnerving all of us here," Ms. Linz began, her voice devoid of its usual steadying warmth. It was flat, exhausted.
"Talk about it? I've been listening to it for thirty-six hours straight," Coach Roberts grumbled, his massive form radiating impatience. He jabbed a thumb towards the western wall, in the general direction of the noise. Usually, when we hear something like this, our minds adapt and ignore it like background noise. Strangely enough, no one here is able to do so for one reason or another. I mean, it's not rock settling, we know that much. It's less likely to be tidal waters deeper down, like an underground waterfall. We can't keep trying to ignore it much longer."
"This is a foolish distraction," Mr. Rafner's dry voice cut through the tension. The glossy black raven feathers on his shoulders seemed to absorb the crystal light, making him a void, a living shadow in the glowing cavern. "We have a definite, known threat waiting for us right above our heads. We have one viable plan of escape. Everything else is only ghost stories and distractions. For all we know, that sound is a mile deep in solid rock and has nothing to do with us. It only becomes our problem if we go looking for it. We need every hand, every ounce of energy, focused on that tunnel. Chasing noises in the dark is a luxury of paranoia we don't have."
"With all due respect, Bob," Mr. Decker interjected, his smooth features tense with concern, "in an undocumented ecosystem, there are only not evaluated threats. We have zero data or knowledge on the geology or biology of this mountain's interior. To ignore a persistent, rhythmic, seemingly artificial sound is not pragmatic; it's reckless. The unknown variables are what have been killing us since we arrived."
Jane Wright, her sharp eyes scanning the faces of the other adults, finally spoke."This comes down to manpower and resources, plain and simple. My son is on that digging team. I see how exhausted they are each day, and there is little I can do. It is hurting my heart to see them go on like this. We're already stretching the crystal dust just to keep them on their feet. If we pull even one person from that tunnel to chase a random sound, our escape slows down and there current suffering is extended. So the question is," she fixed her gaze on Ms. Linz and Coach Roberts, "what's the greater risk? The monster we can hear, or the one we can see?"
The question hung in the cold air, leaving their pitiful minds to pause and buffer.
"Scribe, are you getting this?" The Great, I whispered, leaning forward in my non-existent seat of suffering and madness. "The classic dilemma! The monster behind door number one, or the monster behind door number two? They are paralyzed by choice, and their paralysis is simply delicious from indision is wondrous. For the longer they delay so does the clock tick closer towards the sounding of their destruction continue."
It was the fat, muscle-headed Coach Roberts who broke the stalemate. He slammed a heavy fist onto a nearby boulder, the crack of the impact silencing all other discussion and mutterings. "I'm not waiting around to be eaten in my sleep," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "We're going to find out what that is and understand if action is needed or not. I don't need another or distraction slowing us down."
Before Ms. Linz or any of the others could argue, Mrs. Weiss's sharp melodic voice cut in, reinforcing his point. "Mr. Roberts is correct. This is no longer about a potential physical threat, but a definite psychological one. The sound has sown paranoia and sleep deprivation into many children's hearts, which slowed our work to a crawl." Her iridescent, jewel-toned carapace shimmered in the crystal light, making her look both beautiful and alien within the cavern light. "We find and eliminate the disruption. It needs to be as simple as that. We'll send a small team, like always. They identify the source. The unknown becomes known, the fear is managed, and our workers can focus back on the only task that matters for our survival."
Ms. Linz's shoulders slumped in weary resignation. The debate was over; she knew it. Olivia looked at the faces around her, seeing the same conclusion reflected in every pair of eyes that seemed to lose their light to fight. She wondered if they were all continuing to die inside from those looks and deep, empty eyes that reflected so little light back at her. She could only shake her head and focus on the matter at hand. "Alright. You're both right. We can't work like this."
She straightened up, a flicker of her old authority returning. "It's settled, then. We'll form a scouting party. Their mission is to follow the sound, identify its source, and report back. They are to engage only if absolutely necessary. This is an intelligence-gathering mission, not a search-and-destroy operation. Do I make myself clear?" She looked at all those gathered there, but her focus lingered on Ms. Weiss a second longer than the rest.
The investigation was no longer in question; it was a new mandate to be put into action. They would now have to march willingly into the darkness, toward the steady, rhythmic heartbeat of a new and unknown nightmare.
"Finally!" I gave a slow, deliberate clap. "A round of applause for the meat finally deciding which grinder to walk into! A new quest for my little playthings. Let's see what kind of horror a B-plot can dredge up. I do hope it's something with lots of teeth and a distinct lack of mercy. It might be nice to have a slasher film as a palate cleanser from the lack of any significant progress in the current story. If this turns out to be boring, I'll be very cross with them once again. Besides, you know I've already been disappointed recently. Right, Humanity? I might even take it out on my scribe here."
(I just can't seem to catch a break working for this guy.)
You know, scribe, I can see this, right? Why bother writing this comment if it only means more suffering for you and a greater joy in toying with you like an ant with its wings torn off?
(Whatever, I will keep my peace for now.)
Good boy. Now back to the story.
And every new quest needs its champions, doesn't it? Or, at the very least, a few disposable bodies to check for traps. This is my favorite part of the show: the call for volunteers! It's that magical moment where the brave, the foolish, and the secretly suicidal step forward to have their names etched onto a memorial no one will ever see. So, who will be the first lambs to the proverbial slaughter? The younger, the more tender the meat. Place your bets, Humanity, place your bets!
Ms. Linz's gaze swept over the assembled and those off into the distance, constantly moving already without rest, the haggard faces all around. "We need a team. Small, fast, and quiet. Three people. This is a reconnaissance mission only. I can't help but hammer the importance of this home to all of you here. Find the source of the sound, assess the threat, and return. No unnecessary risks. We have lost too many lives already." Her voice was firm, but the tremor of exhaustion and sorrow could still be heard behind her steeled resolve.
Coach Roberts didn't volunteer so much as claim his spot. He jumped quickly for one of his size and bulk. "I'm going," he stated, the words rumbling from his barrel chest. He stepped forward, his immense hippo-hybrid bulk seeming to command the space around him. All his flesh and muscles seemed to ripple and twitch with anticipation. It wasn't just his size, but the sheer density of him — a living bastion of muscle and thick hide. He was their shield, a meat shield at that, and he would face this threat head-on.
A tense silence fell over the students. With one spot on the three-person team claimed, two more remained. It was a venture into a dark, noisy hole from which they might not return. Could any of their pitiful minds take this pressure? Eyes darted between friends, no one eager to nominate themselves or anyone else. So typical of students not wanting to answer first when a teacher asks a question. Spoiler: the pause doesn't add dramatic effect. Really Humanity, can't you get your heads out of the sand?
"I should go," a quiet voice said, barely rising above the cavern's hums. It was Jeff Wright, the Newt-hybrid. He was often overlooked, but his competence in the swamps and waterways had earned him a quiet bit of respect among his fellow students some days prior. "The sound is a vibration. I can feel it through the rock better than anyone. It's the best way to pinpoint the source without just wandering around, as it could be echoing from any sources and could potentially lead those down below into a labyrinth of death. And that I. Ugh, wow, why did I want to go again?"
His logic was sound. For a mission focused on a rhythmic noise, his unique sensory ability was tailor-made. Ms. Linz nodded in agreement. "Good. Jeff, you're in."
"Umm, but I—," stuttered Jeff before being cut off by some sick glory hound.
"I can do it," another voice cut in. It was Pat Duvall, the Bloodhound-hybrid. His long ears drooped, but his gaze was steady. "My sense of smell can pick up things long before we see them. Air currents, moisture, living creatures. It's another layer of early warning."
"The Muscle and the Senses!" I cheered. "A fine start! But they still need their third! The wildcard! The plucky hero-in-the-making who will probably get eaten first! Sure, the dog has the potential, but I just don't see him filling in that role right now."
"A solid choice," Ms. Linz said, a hint of relief in her voice. "Pat, you're on the team."
"No." The word was quiet but sharp, and it came from Shirou. He stepped forward, his fox ears twitching slightly as he focused. "Pat's skills are for tracking a scent over open ground. This is about pinpointing a sound inside solid rock. More than that, he's essential to finding food tomorrow. We can't risk him."
Pat looked taken aback, but Shirou continued, his eyes fixed on Ms. Linz. "This mission requires stealth and perception in close quarters. My hearing is sharp enough to help locate the source of the sound, and my night vision is better than most. I'm smaller and quieter than the Coach. In a tight, dark space, those are the skills we need, not tracking a trail of a creature we don't even have a sent of yet."
"Shirou, absolutely not," Ms. Linz shot back, her protective instincts flaring. "You are in charge of the Crystal Research Team. That is our most critical resource at this moment. It's too much of a risk with how little resources or knowledge that we have at this time."
"It's a greater risk to send the wrong person," Shirou countered, his tone hardening with a logic that was cold and undeniable before his peers. "Taking Pat jeopardizes our potential food supply or ability to detect other creatures that may try to sneak in as humans or other approaching monsters. We don't know what is out there or down here. Taking one of the primary diggers, like Steve or Jack, slows the tunnel excavation. My work with the crystals can be delegated for a few hours. I am a logical and the least disruptive choice at the moment."
Ms. Linz stared at him, caught between her responsibility as a teacher, the correct assessment of her student, and the heavy weight that a leader she had made herself out to be. The pragmatic, almost detached reasoning was a world away from the quiet boy she once knew and was continuing to grow and change at a frightening pace before her very eyes.
She let out a sigh. She didn't realize she'd been holding in all this time. "Fine," she conceded. "The team is Coach Roberts, Jeff, and Shirou. Get what you need and be ready to move immediately."
The preparation was a hurried affair. Shirou was handed a small pouch of the precious crystal dust. Coach Roberts hefted a crude, heavy club fashioned from a creature's thigh bone. Jeff and Shirou armed themselves with makeshift spears, their points fashioned from sharpened crystal they had been working on, which could act as torches while in the dark as well.
Jeff also had a large, fist-sized crystal. It was adhered to a silk bandana, fixed in place by Ann's natural adhesive. The stone's cold light pushes back the shadows just enough to see the faces of those around him.
The rest of the survivors between work watched in silence as the trio approached a narrow, jagged fissure in the western wall of the new cavern, a dark mouth that exhales the faint, rhythmic scraping from deep within the mountain.
Coach Roberts gave a single, curt nod to Ms. Linz. Jeff took a steadying breath. Shirou glanced back one last time at Katy, with a gleam in his eyes and a stupid smile spreading across his face, before turning back.
Then, with the Coach Roberts pushing into the fissure first, they slipped one by one into the crack and were swallowed by the absolute blackness of the darkness within.
"And the lambs march into the depths!" The Great I boomed, my voice echoing in the grand theater of my surroundings. "The new performance on the stage is about to begin! Settle in, Humanity, for the second act of this delightful little tragedy. Will our heroes find the source of the noise? Or will the noise find them first, in some dark, forgotten corner where their screams will become just another echo in the stone? Oh, the suspense is simply chaotic! Do try to keep up, Humanity. This is where the real fun begins. Well, at least, it better be."
The darkness of the fissure in the rock swallowed them whole. One moment, they were in the familiar, cold glow of the main cavern, surrounded by the faces of their friends and companions; the next, they were plunged into a primordial world without any light. The air was stale, heavy as if it were part of the earth itself.
Jeff held up the crystal, its light a small island in the oppressive dark. It painted their faces with relief: the Coach's grimace, Shirou's tense alertness, and Jeff's own placid, focused expression. The rhythmic echoes bounced off the walls and seemed to come from the very depths of the mountain, calling them as a siren to their sailor victims.
The initial passage was tight. Coach Roberts, with his immense bulk, had to turn sideways and force himself through, if not beat open the walls of rock, with his fists as his thick hide was scraping against the stone as he passed by.
The choke point gave way to a web of intersecting passages. The geology had changed completely. Gone were the large, pulsing blue crystals of their sanctuary. These new tunnels were lined with dense clusters of smaller, bulging minerals of rock as if cast from bubbles that had petrified, remains of magma that froze in time.
They didn't generate their own light, but when the beam from Jeff's crystal struck them, it shattered into a thousand glittering shards, making the shadows jump and twist erratically.
When the shattered light touched patches of dull moss clinging to the rock, they erupted in a sickly green luminescence. The glow leaped from one patch to the next, a disorienting chain reaction that raced down the passage like fire catching on oil, making the path ahead twist and undulate in the cascading light of the many different paths ahead.
Jeff took the lead, his bare hand pressed against the cool stone wall. He would pause every few dozen feet, closing his eyes in concentration. "This way," he'd whisper, pointing down a new fork in the tunnel. "The vibration is stronger down this path." The group walked down the second passage to the middle of the multiple channels, continuing to descend deeper still.
The source of the sound was deceptive. It would grow louder, seeming just around the next bend, only to fade. Its echo played tricks as it reflected off the cave walls. In small moments of quiet, with only the sounds of their own breathing and the soft slap of Jeff's feet on the stone, their minds would wander.
They moved stealthily, born from weeks of hiding and running for their pitiful lives. Shirou, with his fox ears constantly swiveling, would often stop, his head cocked, listening for anything other than the rhythmic scraping.
"Is it just me, or does it feel like we're walking into this thing's stomach?" Shirou whispered, his voice absorbed by the stone.
"Just keep your eyes and ears open," Coach Roberts rumbled from the rear, his bone club held at the ready. "Stay behind me if things go south. Don't let your thoughts play tricks on you."
They reached a point where the main tunnel dropped into a narrow crawlspace, a horizontal slit in the rock barely tall enough for Shirou or Jeff to squeeze through on their bellies. For the Coach, it was an impassable barrier.
"Well, that's not happening," he grunted, staring at the opening with disgust.
"There's another way," Jeff said, his hand already on the opposite wall. "The vibration is weaker, but it feels like it loops around and meets back up on the other side, further along."
The detour was a nightmare. It led them along a narrow ledge overlooking a chasm, where a single dislodged pebble seemed to fall forever before its clatter vanished into the depths. Their only handholds were the sharp red crystals that lined the wall. After the ledge, the path descended into a partially flooded section of cavern, forcing them to wade through thigh-deep, frigid water that slicked the floor with a treacherous layer of slime.
After what felt like hours, they emerged back into a dry tunnel. And the sound was back, but it was clear, direct, and constant.
SCRAPE. TAP. SCRAPE. TAP-TAP.
It was close.
Jeff stopped, holding up a hand. He pointed down a steeply descending passage just ahead. The floor here was littered with a strange, fine dust and small, discarded rock chips. "It's just down there," Jeff whispered, his voice tight. "Right below us. And there's a lot of… something moving down there."
Shirou strained his ears. He could hear it now, too — not just the scraping, but a faint, clicking undertone, the sound of many things moving at once.
They crept to the edge of the passage and peered down into the darkness. Jeff cupped his free hand around the glowing stone, forming a makeshift cone to focus its ambient light. He angled the stone downwards, and the diffuse glow coalesced into a tight, concentrated beam, a crude spotlight that cut a swath through the gloom. The beam swept across the edge of another, much larger cavern below, and for a moment, they saw it.
And here we are, Humanity, at the precipice of discovery! Peering into the abyss, hearts a-flutter with delicious terror. What did they see? What fresh new hell did that little pinprick of light reveal? Was it a single, slavering beast with a thousand teeth? Or something… worse? Scribe, if you please. Paint the scene. Don't leave a single, horrifying detail out. Let's give the people what they came for.
Jeff's makeshift spotlight swept across the vast cavern below, illuminating a scene of life. The floor of the cavern, at least a hundred feet down, teemed with creatures. They were humanoid in shape, but that was where the familiarity ended. Their bodies were a bizarre fusion of insect and mineral, covered in a carapace of flattened, obsidian-like chitin. They stood on two powerful, stout legs, their posture slightly stooped under the weight of their massive upper bodies. Instead of arms, they possessed two enormous, shovel-like appendages, like the claws of a giant mole or a preying mantis, which they used to gouge and tear at the far wall of the cavern. Their heads were blunt and armored, with no discernible mouths, but a pair of twitching antennae swept the air constantly. Set deep within the armored heads were clusters of small, softly glowing red lights, serving as their eyes. It would be more reasonable to believe that these were fever dreams of mutated monster ants than anything resembling their human-like poster. What was worse was that there was a large herd of animals below that were shifting and filing about as they seemed to work and move among each other.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," The great I sighed. Then, a slow, wicked grin spread across my unseen face. "You thought it was going to be one big monster, didn't you? Something to be the big boss of this level? Adorable. No, instead you get… neighbors. Very, very busy neighbors. And you know what they say about good fences. I wonder what these things will do when they find a bunch of screaming, fleshy pests infesting their workplace. This isn't a fight, Humanity. This is a potential extermination. How wonderfully pedestrian! It could lead to a new war front. Let's watch!"
The scouts stared, frozen with cautious awe. This wasn't a mindless beast, but a colony. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of the creatures moved in synchronized paths. At the rock face, a line of them worked in unison, their powerful claws striking the stone in the same, relentless rhythm they had heard from above: SCRAPE. TAP. SCRAPE. TAP-TAP.
As chunks of rock broke free, a second wave of creatures scuttled forward to haul the debris away, carrying pieces larger than their own heads. They formed a neat, single-file line, disappearing into another tunnel carved into the side of the cavern.
"Sweet mother..." Coach Roberts breathed, his voice a low rumble of disbelief. "Look at the size of them. That ain't just digging. They're tearing through solid rock like it's wet clay or a kid at the ground in a sandbox."
"And there's a structure to it," Shirou whispered, his eyes wide as he took in the whole scene. He pointed with a clawed finger. "Look down over there, at the bigger ones."
Stationed at intervals around the perimeter were larger versions of the creatures, their carapaces thicker and more jagged. They stood perfectly still, like statues, their antennae sweeping the air. They weren't digging; they were observing and overseeing like sentinels.
"It's like watching an ant farm," Shirou breathed, a strange fascination in his voice. "The diggers dig, the others carry... but how do they know what to do? There's no one giving orders; they move together like they're all one mind. Do you think it's pheromones?"
Jeff, still lying flat on the rock, pressed his palm to the stone floor with greater force, causing his whole hand to pale as if all the blood had left it. "The vibrations are immense. There are more of them, if not hundreds or thousands more, deeper in. This isn't just one tunnel they're digging. This is a large nest."
For several long minutes, they simply watched, committing the scene to memory. They observed the creatures' work patterns, their sheer numbers, and the clear social structure of workers and overseers. There was no outward sign of aggression.
They were entirely consumed by their task, ignoring the world outside their grand project. But their power was undeniable, their efficiency terrifying. These things could move through solid rock as easily as a man walks through an open field covered in waist-high snow.
"I think we've seen enough boys," Coach Roberts finally grunted, his voice pulling them from their trance. "We can't risk them spotting us. So come along now." Coach Roberts patted them on their backs and sent them to start heading back.
"But they might have a way out," Jeff countered, his mind racing with the implications. "If we could somehow use their tunnels, or get them to dig for us..."
"Or they could well be the things that collapse this whole mountain on our heads and eat our bones for dessert," the Coach shot back. "Right now, they're a threat we don't understand. We are taking this information back with us. We don't go poking the giant ant farm with a proverbial stick."
Shirou and Jeff nodded in agreement. The information was too valuable and too ambiguous to risk losing their short lives for. The potential danger was matched only by the potential opportunity, and that was a decision for the entire council, not for the three of them.
"And... scene!" The Great I declared with a theatrical flourish. "The heroes make their quiet escape, but not before getting a delightful little peek at the horrors next door. Oh, the wisdom of it all! Don't engage the giant, rock-chewing insects. Run away! Scurry back to your little hole, my vermin, and tell everyone the good news: you're not just trapped between soldiers and starvation anymore. Now you've got a whole civilization of nightmares living in your basement! Oh, this is going to be so much more entertaining than I thought! Ah, I wish to see the horror etched upon their little faces as hope continues to crumble away."
With one last look into the new hellscape below, they began their retreat. Every step back through the oppressive blackness was now haunted by the sound they had found the source of. The rhythmic scraping was no longer an unknown horror. It was the sound of their new neighbors, a civilization of diggers whose power made their own desperate tunnel look like a child's sandcastle. The mountain wasn't just their prison; it was a bustling hive of ants, and they were the termites in the tree above, ready to clash when the two finally meet.
The return of the scouting party was a silent, tense affair. Three figures, coated in a fine layer of dust and damp clothes, emerged from the black fissure in the cavern wall. The assembled students and adults parted for them, their faces a mixture of dread and desperate hope. The rhythmic scraping from the depths of the mountain, once a source of terror, now seemed to follow the scouts out.
The council convened immediately; the rest of the students, who had stopped their work, formed a wider, eavesdropping circle. Ms. Linz's face was pale in the crystal light. "Report," she said, her voice tight.
Coach Roberts stepped forward, wiping dust from his broad face. "Good news is, it's not some single, slavering beast that will be hunting us any time soon," he began, his tone grim. "Bad news is, it's a whole civilization of monsters below us, but they are not aware of any disturbances from above as of yet."
He described what they saw: the vast cavern, the sheer numbers, the raw power. Jeff took over, his voice quiet but steady. "The entire mountain bellow is alive with them. The vibrations... it's not just one tunnel. It's a network. A city network like an insect colony."
Then Shirou spoke, his fox ears flattened slightly in memory as his thoughts raced in his mind as he recalled the sight of those creatures. "They're organized like ants. Workers are digging, carriers hauling rock, and larger ones standing guard. We didn't see any carrying food or young of their kind, so it is most likely just a group of their kind slowly expanding their territory within the mountain. They do move in perfect sync, with no leader that we could see or identify as of yet. They're efficient, tireless, and they carve through solid rock faster than we can shovel dirt."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd. Relief that they weren't being actively hunted by yet another harmful faction was quickly replaced by the dawning horror of their situation.
"So they're right underneath us?" Peter Frost, the Rabbit-hybrid, stammered, his long ears trembling. "An entire army of... of rock-monsters?"
"We don't know that they're hostile," Ms. Linz countered, raising her voice to quell the rising panic. "The team said they showed no signs of aggression. They seemed completely focused on their work. Our first priority must be to avoid them. We seal the fissure and double down on our own tunnel. We go about our merry way, and we stay out of their way."
"Avoid them?" a voice, surprisingly calm and carrying a hint of dark amusement, cut through the nervous chatter. It was Barry Jenkins, the Bombardier Beetle hybrid. He wasn't looking at any of the adults, but rather at the fearful faces of the students around him, a small, knowing smirk on his face.
"We're talking about a whole new ecosystem here. A whole new food chain. Has anyone stopped to consider where we might fit in? Or better yet," he paused, letting the implication hang in the air, "where they might fit in... for us as a potential food or labor source?"
The question, born of gnawing hunger and grim practicality, landed like a stone in a silent pond. Sending ripples of whispers and panic around all those within the reach of his voice. A few students recoiled in disgust, while others paled from fright.
"We can't be seriously considering hunting them," Mr. Decker said, appalled. "We have no idea what their biology is. Their carapace appeared to be mineral-based, right? Eating one could be like swallowing a mouthful of stones and salt. We don't even know if those things even have any meat or nutritional value at all."
"And what happens if you fail to kill one cleanly?" Mr. Rafner, the Raven-hybrid, added, his voice a dry wisp. "You wound it. It retreats to its nest, potentially housing thousands. Do you honestly want to invite that kind of attention?"
"So we just ignore a potential food source out of fear?" Carlos, the Wolf-hybrid, snarled from the back. "We're starving from rationing and overworking ourselves from digging. I'd rather die fighting for a meal than waste away only digging a few feet a day."
"I can't agree more, Carlos, and what Barry said is something we should consider highly. There is more than one way to look at this," a sharp, melodic voice cut through the argument, silencing it instantly. All eyes turned to Mrs. Weiss. Her jeweled wasp carapace shimmered, and she regarded the council with an unnerving calm.
"You are all talking about them as a threat or, pathetically, as food. You're thinking like simpletons. You should be thinking based on facts and history, if not outside the box, if we want to be innovative and survive."
She paused, letting her words sink in. "Ms. Linz is right about one thing. As she constantly mumbles about contanstly og safty, and that we should focus on digging. It may well be a child's fairy tale effort against a mountain. But they, those monsters below, are masters at this craft. You boys saw their speed, their efficiency in moving the stone and earth with ease, as you have told us all. It has indeed painted quite the picture for me. That is not a threat," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper casuing them to have to focus on her every word. "That is a tool, and can be our beasts of burden, like horses have been for over a thousand years."
A stunned silence fell over the cavern.
"That's insane," Shirou said, stepping forward. "We don't know anything about them! Trying to 'use' them could very well be suicide."
"Would it?" Mrs. Weiss countered, her multifaceted eyes fixing on Shirou with an unnerving intensity. "You say we know nothing. I say we know the most important things. They have a social structure, which means they can be influenced. They have instincts, which means they can be predicted and manipulated. My stinger isn't just for defense; it's a paralytic agent. What if... it could be more? What if, with the right application, we could turn their instincts for our own use and desires?" Her voice was a low, hypnotic hum. "Imagine that power, their tireless digging, aimed in a direction of our choosing. Towards the surface. Why should we break our backs digging like worms when we could guide a living machine to do it for us? They could carve our escape route in days, if not hours."
Ms. Linz was aghast. "Winifred, you can't be serious. You're talking about provoking a species of unknown power based on a wild gamble. You would risk every life here on the possibility that you can enslave or tame them?"
"I would risk our lives on a chance for survival, yes," Mrs. Weiss replied coolly, "rather than watch us die slowly and safely in this hole only to be swept up by those soldiers above. Desperate times, Olivia. Desperate times, indeed."
"And that's where the fun begins!" I roared with laughter, my voice echoing only for myself and my scribe. "Oh, listen to them! The moral, cautious leader versus the ruthless, pragmatic queen! The desperate hunger of the wolf versus the cold logic of the raven! And at the center of it all, a beautiful, depraved question: Is the nightmare in your basement a monster to be slain, a meal to be eaten, or a workforce to be exploited? How deliciously, wonderfully, horribly human! They haven't even made a decision, and they're already at each other's throats and acting no better than any community of wasps could be. The irony that Ms. Weiss is one herself only gives more credit to her human and animal nature. This is better than any play I've recently seen, which sadly Humanity isn't saying much."
The cavern was now split, the air thick with tension. The new discovery had not brought them together, but had instead driven a wedge between the factions of their desperate society. There was no easy answer. They were trapped between the soldiers above, the starvation within, and now, the hive of monsters below. The debate raged on, a frantic, hopeless noise that was swallowed by the steady, patient, and relentless sound that echoed from the heart of the mountain.
SCRAPE. TAP. SCRAPE. TAP-TAP.