Rory and Ari circled each other in the center of the training ground, the early morning light casting long, jagged shadows across the sand. The crisp air was thick with tension, filled only with the sharp hiss of mandibles slicing through the air and the rapid shuffling of feet. Rory's technique was measured and disciplined, each slash of his mandibles executed with precise, deliberate motions that cut dangerously close to Ari's exoskeleton. Isla, watching from the side, gasped and squeezed her eyes shut with every narrowly missed strike, her small hands clenched in anxious fists.
Ari's eyes remained steady, his focus razor-sharp as he weaved around Rory's strikes with fluid steps and swift pivots. But as their duel continued, a creeping realization gnawed at him—Rory's blows were landing closer with each passing second. The once-wide gaps between threat and safety were shrinking, and Ari could no longer rely solely on his evasions.
The sparring wasn't just about honing their skills. It was their unspoken language, a way to measure and respect each other's growth. Rory's mandibles sliced through the air in rapid succession, each attack more aggressive than the last. Ari's heart pounded, his breath steady but tense as he continued to dodge by the barest margins. The tempo escalated until Rory feinted left and delivered a decisive downward slash. Ari's instincts screamed at him—he couldn't dodge this one. In a fluid motion, he drew his own mandibles to block the attack.
A loud clang echoed through the training ground.
"Whoa! Ari drew his mandibles, Rory!!" Isla's voice cracked through the stillness, her astonishment bouncing off the surrounding rock walls. Rory's eyes glinted with a triumphant mix of pride and playful mischief.
"Finally got you to draw your mandibles. Now it doesn't look like you're just toying with me anymore," Rory said with a teasing smirk, his chest heaving from exertion.
Ari grinned faintly, lowering his guard. "You've gotten stronger these past few days. You're adapting to me already?"
Rory's smirk widened, bolstered by the rare compliment. "Well, an experienced ant taught me a few tricks to keep up with you."
Ari's brow twitched as he muttered, "Of course. Lieutenant Brooks's handiwork."
Even as they relaxed their stances, the charged atmosphere between them lingered, the spark of friendly rivalry burning bright.
"Since you finally got me to draw my mandibles," Ari said, sliding into a more aggressive stance, "how about I show you what happens when I fight for real?"
"You can try," Rory shot back, planting his feet firmly.
Ari lunged forward in a blur of motion, his mandibles slicing toward Rory with sudden ferocity. Rory barely managed to block the first strike, the collision sending up a shower of sparks. Before he could recover, Ari darted low, pivoting sharply to Rory's blind side in a smooth, practiced misdirection that shifted his center of gravity like a sliding stone.
"Where did he go?" Rory muttered, twisting his head frantically, eyes searching in panic.
A cold sensation grazed the back of his neck.
Spinning around, Rory found Ari's mandibles resting lightly against his skin, a gentle yet undeniable sign of his defeat. Rory's heart hammered in his chest as the realization sank in.
"You got me..." he admitted, a mix of awe and reluctant admiration in his voice.
Their sparring session hadn't gone unnoticed. Corporal Beatrice approached with steady, measured steps, accompanied by the ever-energetic Corporal Lily.
"That was impressive. Both of you have grown," Beatrice praised, her firm tone softened by genuine warmth. She crossed her arms as she regarded the two with pride. "We've been watching you train over these past few days. It's rare for ants to continue pushing themselves after becoming privates. Most settle with what they've learned."
"But not you two," Lily added, her playful voice sliding in as she stepped closer to Ari, slipping her arm between his and leaning in. "Anastasia was right about you. Especially you, Ari."
Ari's cheeks flushed a vivid red. "H-Hey! What are you doing?" he sputtered, his thoughts spiraling in panic. "Her breasts... they're pressing against my hand. No, stay calm. She's just an ant. Just an ant..."
Lily caught his embarrassed expression and let out a soft, teasing laugh. "Relax, Ari. It's just a little praise."
Isla beamed as she stepped forward. "Anastasia was right about all of us. We train to get stronger. We don't just stop."
"As if," Rory scoffed, crossing his arms. "All you do is sit back and watch me and Ari spar."
Isla puffed out her cheeks in protest. "That wasn't sparring. All you did was get your butt handed to you by Ari."
Rory's face reddened. "That's not what happened! You wouldn't have done any better, coward."
"Coward? You're the one who always gets flustered and falls over when Ari gets serious!"
"Says the girl who can't even watch without covering her eyes!"
Their bickering escalated quickly, voices rising, but before it could boil over, the sound of rapid footsteps and frantic shouting cut through their squabble.
"What now?" Isla asked, the playful mood dissolving instantly as her gaze snapped toward the approaching military ants.
"The grasshoppers! The grasshoppers are coming!" the soldiers shouted, their voices cracking under the weight of panic.
Beatrice's expression hardened in an instant. "No. They're here already? They weren't supposed to arrive for another five days."
Lily's face paled. "But why now? What's changed?"
Grasshoppers....Ari's chest tightened as his memories resurfaced—memories from when he was once a prisoner under Queen Celeste, not yet a military ant. Not even a member of the colony. He remembered those days vividly. The cold walls. The hard labour.The hopelessness. And he remembered Evelyn—how she had explained to him the reason why she and her grandfather Brook were imprisoned.
"My grandpa and I came from a flourishing colony. We had a lot of food and a well-built infrastructure. Life was peaceful… until he came—a grasshopper named Hopper."
"He came to our colony demanding half of our food supply for the winter. My father and his soldiers refused and tried to resist Hopper, but they were all killed. Our colony was destroyed."
"My grandpa and I barely escaped with our lives. We wandered around, just trying to survive, but one day, ants from this colony captured us and forced us into labor."
Ari's jaw tightened. Could it be that same grasshopper Evelyn was referring to? Ari's heart thumped in his chest.
"Focus!" Beatrice's sharp voice cut through his thoughts.
"No time to explain," Beatrice barked, instantly assuming command. "Lily, gather all recruits and every military ant under the corporal rank. Get them back to the colony. Now."
"On it!" Lily shouted as she sprinted off, her speed rivaling the urgency of the moment.
Beatrice turned to the others. "Ari, Isla, Rory—go to the worker districts. Get every worker ant to stop what they're doing and return to the colony immediately. We can't leave anyone out there. Move!"
"Right!" Rory responded, bolting away without hesitation.
Ari grabbed Isla's hand. "Let's go, Isla! We need to hurry!"
"W-Wait, Ari! Slow down!" Isla squeaked, struggling to keep pace as Ari practically dragged her along. "Her legs scrambled beneath her as her heart pounded wildly, fear creeping in."
Across the colony, panic erupted as military ants ushered the worker ants and lower-ranking soldiers back into the protective walls. Ari's heart pounded as he shouted to the workers, urging them to abandon their tasks.
"You need to leave—now! Everyone, back to the colony!" Ari's voice strained to carry over the din, his throat raw from shouting.
Workers dropped their tools, their wide, fearful eyes darting toward the horizon as distant vibrations rumbled beneath their feet.
"What's happening? Why now?" a worker cried, his voice trembling.
"No time! Move!" Ari commanded, gripping the worker's shoulder and pushing him toward the tunnels.
Isla stood nearby, trembling as she waved her arms frantically. "Everyone, b-back inside! Hurry, please!" Her voice cracked with panic, and her hands shook violently as she gestured, trying to get their attention. "D-Don't wait! Please—please move!"
The hum of daily life shattered in an instant, replaced by a frantic scramble for safety. Dust swirled as hundreds of ants abandoned their posts, flooding into the inner colony. The ground beneath them trembled again—a faint but unmistakable signal.
Meanwhile, Beatrice sprinted toward the central chambers of the colony, her mind racing through years of contingency planning. "Commander Anastasia, Lieutenant Brooks, Commander Seth, and Queen Celeste must be alerted. The harvest is ready, and we're prepared, but they need to know immediately."
Her breath came in sharp bursts, but she didn't slow, even as her legs burned and her exoskeleton ached. The sound of her rapid footfalls echoed through the winding tunnels as she pushed herself harder.
There was no room for error. The grasshoppers had come sooner than expected, and every second now mattered.
And somewhere, not far beyond the edges of the colony, the dust trails of the enemy steadily advanced.