Chapter 2: New World Unfolds
Seth's heart refused to calm. He stared blankly at the cracked laptop screen, the phantom image of that blood-red sun still burned into his mind.
"Get a grip, Seth," he muttered into the silent room, running a trembling hand through his messy hair.
"It was a dream. Just a dream. A really, really vivid one… probably."
But even as he said it, he couldn't fully believe his own words.
His phone buzzed beside him, snapping him out of his daze.
11:58 PM.
The class group chat was going wild.
He tapped it open.
Jenna (11:30 PM): yo did the sky just glitch?? I swear I saw a green flash.
Leo (11:32 PM): ^ this, my dog's barking at the wall like crazy.
Mike (11:45 PM): OKAY WEIRD SHIT ALERT. My dad's a truck driver. He called freaking out—says his GPS is looping and the road ahead looks… longer. like, visually stretched.
Sarah (11:51 PM): GUYS. go online NOW. a giant freaking tree grew straight through the roof of the city library!!
Seth's blood ran cold. This wasn't just in his head.
The email… could it be real?
Before he could think, a shrill alarm blared from his phone—the national emergency alert. The screen flashed blood-red.
EMERGENCY ALERT!
EXTREME SEISMIC ACTIVITY DETECTED NATIONWIDE. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER!
THIS IS NOT A DRILL!
His eyes widened.
The digital clock on his phone ticked over.
12:00 AM.
Midnight. Dawn.
"It can't be… right?" he whispered, voice hollow.
Then the world dropped out from under him.
A deafening roar erupted from the earth—a sound like continents grinding together. The entire apartment shook violently. The floorboards cracked open, hurling him against the wall.
CRASH!
His desk lamp exploded into shards.
"The colony!" he shouted over the chaos, instincts roaring louder than fear.
He scrambled on all fours, shielding the formicarium with his body as his bookshelf toppled forward. His heart pounded as debris rained around him.
The ceiling split open, dust and plaster cascading down like snow.
The world was tearing itself apart.
Seth dove into the narrow space between his bedframe and the wall, curling into a ball as the deafening roar swallowed everything.
The sounds of twisting metal and collapsing concrete blended into a nightmare symphony.
Something heavy—maybe a piece of the ceiling—slammed into his shoulder.
White-hot pain shot through him.
His last thought before everything went black was a hoarse curse.
"...Fuck."
Then, silence.
He woke to the smell of wet earth… and something wild.
Seth groaned, pain flaring through his shoulder. He was half-buried under debris.
A sliver of gray pre-dawn light slipped through a crack above him.
Coughing, he fumbled for his phone.
5:07 AM.
No signal.
"Hello?" he rasped. "Is anyone out there?"
Only silence answered—a deep, unnerving quiet broken by the faint chirp of something that didn't sound like any cricket he'd ever heard.
Grinding his teeth, he began to dig himself out, pushing against the rubble despite the pain. Every movement sent sharp jolts through his shoulder.
After what felt like hours, he finally pulled himself free and stumbled upright on a mound of shattered wood and concrete.
Then he froze.
"My god…"
His apartment building was nothing but a hollow skeleton. And beyond it… the city was gone. Or rather, shoved miles away—distant and alien.
In its place sprawled a wild, untamed world—colossal, ancient trees rising from the earth where city blocks should've been.
The moment he took it in, his mind shot back to one thought.
"My colony!"
Even as the world fell apart, he couldn't forget his colony. It was the closest thing to family he had.
Scanning the wreckage, he spotted it—a faint glint at the edge of his vision. The formicarium, miraculously intact beneath the fallen bookshelf and bedframe.
With hurried steps, he pushed the bookshelf aside and carefully lifted the formicarium.
The instant he did, a monotonous voice echoed in his mind.
You have acquired an Artifact!
"Artifact?"
Seth blinked, confused, until he noticed the formicarium faintly glowing white.
When he focused on it, a transparent interface appeared before his eyes.
Item Name: Formicarium
Type: Artifact
Grade: Unique
Details: A special space that holds a small colony of ants. Can summon a random species of ants in the colony.
Summon: 0/2
Special Reminder: Exercise extreme caution when summoning.
Seth stared, dumbfounded, at the window hovering before him. He reached out—his hand passed right through it.
"Is this real?"
He couldn't help wondering if he'd hit his head during the quake.
But then he remembered the trial… or that vivid dream before all this.
"This is too much to be a coincidence…" he muttered.
"Well, only one way to find out."
Focusing on the artifact, he whispered, "Start summoning…"
For a moment, nothing happened.
He almost laughed at himself—then he heard it.
A rolling sound. Like a roulette wheel spinning.
The formicarium burst with bright light, blinding him for a second.
When his vision cleared, he froze.
Dog-sized. Jet-black. Two-waisted.
Every synapse in his brain fired at once: minor worker, Lasius niger—garden ant, the classic beginner species every fourteen-year-old ant geek starts with.
Except this one could bench-press reality.
Its mandibles clicked—dinner-plate glossy, paper-bag rough—the same sound his feeding tweezers made when he dropped sugar cubes into the arena.
Only now, those mandibles could probably snip rebar like licorice. Antennae thick as TV aerials flicked once, tasting the metallic panic pouring off his skin.
Seth's voice crawled out, half laugh, half whimper.
"C'mon, buddy… workers don't sting. Acid spray or straight bite?"
The ant lifted one foreleg, pressing it down with the calm tap of a colony queen that already owned the nest.
Its mandibles opened, inching closer. Hostile.
His instinct screamed to run—but before he could move, the ant was already a foot away.
So fast! he thought, panicked.
Its mandibles gaped wider, ready to bite him clean in half.
Desperation tore through him.
"Stop!" he screamed.
A voice echoed inside his head—flat, mechanical.
Hive Link — Connected!
Seconds passed. The pain he expected never came.
He opened his eyes. The massive ant was frozen, mandibles locked mid-bite.
Its once ruby eyes had turned back to abyss-black.
Drenched in cold sweat, Seth stepped back from the blades of death hovering inches away.
Only then did he understand why the artifact information warned him to be cautious.
"They could've just said I might die!" he cried inwardly, heart pounding.
After catching his breath and letting out a deep sigh, he muttered sardonically, "I guess that confirms everything…"
As much as he wanted to deny it, the truth was standing right in front of him.