The insect occupied more than half the passage, its form nearly pressing against the walls. Thick armour plating covered its back—black chitin-like scales, each piece the size of Hector’s torso. Its head, disproportionately small and almost comical, held green beady eyes that contained nothing resembling mercy.

  It screeched. The sound scraped against Hector’s eardrums, vibrating through his chest.

  Smaller bugs skittered around it. One of the mantis creatures seized a rock and brought it down against a pile of rubble. Stone cracked. Dust bloomed.

  A cave-in.

  The realisation wormed its way into Hector’s mind. Had those trapped inside caused the tunnel to collapse and used the rubble as a blockade to stop the creatures from reaching them?

  Jodie voiced the thought. “This part of the tunnel collapsed. I take it you’re sensing the people just beyond those walls?”

  Hector nodded and activated his Talent again. The pulse returned seconds later from just beyond the barrier. “Yeah, they’re right there. So close we could almost touch them.”

  “How are we going to get in?” Lincoln rose from his crouch, spear gripped tight. “I think my surface scraper Talent would be useful, but it’s going to take time. With the horde chasing us, getting through is going to be difficult.” His voice cracked.

  “They won’t have to chase.” Hector’s gaze tracked the ants moving rocks away from the pile, efficient and methodical. “The insects are clearing it themselves. That means once they break through—” He gestured to the massive creature. “That thing will go in there and probably squash everyone.”

  His options came into sharp clarity. They could fight now and risk being trapped if something went wrong. Or they could lead the big bug away to a separate area, though that risked separation. If they were unlucky, they’d suffer an ambush in unfamiliar tunnels. Ambushes had been common on their journey here. Only their teamwork had gotten them this far.

  Hector didn’t like either option.

  Lincoln stammered. “I think we should stay and fight.” He sounded almost surprised at his own suggestion. “I don’t really want to split up if we don’t have to.” He trailed off, but the meaning hung clear. Alone, he’d be vulnerable. With his fear of dying a meaningless death, that vulnerability had become exceedingly apparent to him.

  Hector doubted insects would overcome his friend so easily. Lincoln’s abilities were formidable. But sizing up Lincoln’s form and noting the slight tremor in his body, Hector frowned. Yes, they had made progress.

  But that terror still lurked within his friend, waiting to rear its ugly head at the worst time and send him fleeing. Without Jodie or Hector being present to calm him, the entire mission would risk collapse. Hector couldn’t let that happen.

  “Alright, Jodie, here’s what we’re going to do.” Hector’s mind assessed the variables, the different angles of attack they could take. The path they’d taken to get here had some turns they could exploit. “I need you to lead that big bug away while Lincoln and I ambush the ones that are left using the mist. We’ll slaughter what we can, and hopefully, when you’re back, we’ll have most of that rubble cleared. Then it’s just about holding them off until we can punch through and pull the people on the other side out.”

  Jodie let out a low grumble and shook her head. “How about this instead? Your plan is good, but I think it kinda sucks for no reason.”

  Hector frowned, trying not to take her words as an insult.

  “We should wait longer,” she continued. “Let the ants clear more rubble. When they’re close enough to break through—I’m talking maybe a single push or two—that’s when we strike.” She slammed a fist into her palm. “I’ll lead the big one away while you and Lincoln clear the path for the escaping people. Then you can push through the tunnels and meet me a little way from here.”

  Hector crossed his arms, processing her plan. It wasn’t bad. If anything, it was better than his. They would use the least effort while they gained maximum results. The enemy would essentially do the work for them.

  “Alright, we’ll go with that,” Hector said, trying to sound as authoritative as a company leader should.

  They settled into position and waited.

  —- —- —- —-

  Rot saturated the air, sweet undertones laced through it. Something floral clung to the scent, yet undeniably wrong. Like flowers growing from a freshly decayed corpse. The smell coated Hector’s throat, almost thick enough to taste. Beneath it ran another undertone: fear, coppery on his tongue.

  It wasn’t his own fear. As a Gravity Forging core cultivator, his senses had been enhanced. Picking up the smell of fear, though only subtly, was something he’d grown better at. Lincoln, by far, reeked of it the most.

  This fear was palpable as they watched the massive creature, unaware of their presence, continuing its guard. Smaller ants worked the rubble, mandibles clacking against stone. Each rock they moved brought them closer to their prey on the other side.

  Hector wondered why they were so focused. Was it simply that a foreign entity had invaded their nest, driving an instinct to eliminate it? Or was something else driving these bugs?

  He reached for his Talent again, just to verify. The pulse rippled through the tunnel. The people beyond the walls remained huddled together, though their signatures seemed weaker now—almost as if he could feel the morale within that space lowering. They could probably hear the digging, knew something was coming for them, and had nowhere to run.

  Minutes trudged on as time compressed. Each breath felt loud. Each scrape of chitin on stone rang like a countdown.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  The rubble pile shrank. Gaps appeared from the other side.

  The gap opened, and Hector’s pulse quickened. “Now!” he snapped.

  Jodie exploded forward, kicking up stones as she moved. Her claws extended mid-sprint from the tips of her fingers, and her wolf-like eyes took on a white glow. Battle intent. She raked the massive creature’s back leg, her talons scoring deep furrows into the thick armour plating.

  Not deep enough, though. The beast screeched, sensing the attack without seeing her. The sound rattled the very air. Dust rained from the ceiling as the lumbering giant began pivoting, manoeuvring its bulk to face her, its intent murderous.

  Just as Hector had predicted—something that large couldn’t turn with any speed. The tunnel, relative to its size, was so tight that pivoting would be difficult. Which again raised the question: what was something like this doing within the hive? What was its purpose?

  Jodie struck again, her claws scraping against the armour plates, tearing off bits of chitin but ultimately doing little damage. She didn’t pause, didn’t wait for the creature to finish turning. Each slash sent purple flakes spiralling through the air. Jumping back, Jodie’s sandals found purchase on a boulder. She pivoted before diving in again, raking her claws down the insect’s side.

  Around the behemoth, smaller ants chittered, their antennae twitching in synchronised patterns. As if on command, they advanced towards Jodie—formations scattered but purpose clear, mandibles clicking and echoing off the tunnel walls.

  Jodie lunged sideways and caught one ant’s middle. Her claws punched through its thorax. The creature’s legs spasmed before she flung it into a companion, and chitin cracked against chitin.

  “Begin leading the way!” Hector yelled from behind his boulder, his voice cutting through the chaos.

  Surprisingly, as Jodie skipped backwards, eyes locked on the large bug, it didn’t follow. Its green eyes seemed to glow. While Hector couldn’t see any pupils, he didn’t doubt that it tracked her every movement.

  The smaller insects around it pressed their attack on Jodie, who tore through them with increasing ferocity, her white eyes darting around as if assessing and coming up with plans within mere moments. She was definitely getting the hang of using battle intent.

  Hector blinked as all this unfolded. His plans were being tossed aside simply because the creature wouldn’t move. But why? Why was it so fixed on staying in place?

  He twisted his head towards Lincoln, who crouched behind the boulder next to him. “We’re going to have to help her. I’ll think of something. Stay close,” he said before breaking from cover. Lincoln rushed out a few paces behind him.

  Stale air flooded Hector’s lungs as he sprinted. The screeching of insects bounced off stone, multiplying until the sound became a physical pressure. The behemoth’s head twitched, turning towards them as they moved.

  Then it released a screech that rattled the tunnel. The sound penetrated deep, vibrating through Hector’s teeth. His sandals scraped across the floor as he came to a stop, blades crackling to life within his grip.

  The bioluminescent bulbs along the wall pulsed faster now, purple-blue light strobing across chitin and stone in a quickening rhythm.

  When something that size made a call, it could only mean one thing. If it wasn’t coming for them, that meant it was calling for something.

  Backup.

  Hector’s gut tightened, the muscles on his back coiling as his gaze snapped to the wall behind the creature. That rubble pile—the one the ants had been working on to reach the trapped survivors—now sat abandoned as the bugs swarmed towards them. They wouldn’t be able to reach that wall if the damn chitin hill before them didn’t move.

  “What do we do?” Jodie asked, landing next to him, her breath tight as her chest rose and fell. She scooped an ant from the ground mid-motion and swung it like a club into another. The impact produced a wet crunch. She snarled, kicked up dust, and pivoted for another strike.

  Behind them, skittering echoed across the tunnel walls, multiple screeches overlapping in strange harmony.

  They were going to be overwhelmed, and Hector didn’t much fancy the odds if that happened. While they were good at dealing with these smaller insects, if they became flooded with them, they wouldn’t even have room to move. And without movement, the bugs would tear them apart.

  He backed up, signalling for Lincoln and Jodie to do the same. Curiously, the behemoth followed, which spooked him. Why hadn’t it followed when Jodie had done the same, but now, when they were all together, it did? Had it always known Lincoln and Hector were behind the boulder? Could it understand them?

  His plan began dissolving as he corrected his understanding of the bugs once again. These creatures were intelligent, and he needed to act like it.

  “Jodie,” Hector said, voice tight. “Change of plans.” His mind raced through alternate approaches, discarding options as quickly as they formed. “We don’t have to fight our way out of here. For now, keep doing what you’re doing while I think of something.”

  As she glanced at him, her face almost took Hector aback; on her lips was a smile of joy. She ripped a hand free from an ant’s chest, then gripped another with both hands and tore its head off, hurling it across the tunnel.

  The projectile pinged off another insect’s carapace, knocking it onto its back with its legs thrashing at empty air. Her claws found another target and another. She moved through the smaller insects like a blade through butter.

  Lincoln’s spear became a blur of silver. He danced between the creatures, each thrust punching through chitin before withdrawing, trailing ropes of viscous ichor. His movements had become steadier now, his fear of the bugs fading. All Hector could hope was that this would last and Lincoln wouldn’t suddenly break.

  With a shout, Lincoln punched his spear through an ant’s centre of mass. He used the momentum to carry the impaled creature into another, both of them cracking under the weight of his weapon, chitin and flesh shredding apart as he ripped his spear back.

  The three of them moved as one unit, backing through the tunnels with synchronised rhythm—a fighting retreat. Though mistakes came now and then, they covered each other’s backs, making sure not to be surrounded.

  But then the second horde arrived.

  It rushed towards them in a wave, a pincer attack blocking their retreat. Hector pulled on his Blazing Arsenal Talent. Heat rippled into the air before them, warping as a magma pool bubbled into existence from the ground. The surface churned, popped, and sent wisps of black smoke spiralling. Above it, flames coalesced, compressed, and took form.

  A fireball tore free, screaming through the tunnel’s width. It slammed into the advancing horde. Insects shrieked, their chitinous bodies igniting. Another flame slammed into them five seconds later. The smell of burning flesh flooded the passage, sharp and pungent.

  “Side tunnel,” Jodie said, grabbing his shoulder and pulling Hector behind her.

  As they veered right, they continued jogging, sandals pounding stone in quick succession. Behind them, the tunnel shook. The behemoth had not given up its pursuit, which, on one hand, was good for the survivors. Not so much for them. It released another screech, shaking the tunnel until the walls themselves threatened to collapse.

  “How long are we gonna have to lead it away for?” Lincoln cried, his steps shakier now. Mid-stride, he lunged forward with his weapon and smashed it into a bug. He flicked the spear to the side, sending the insect slamming into another, the two slumping into a mass of chitin. “I’m sorry, Hector, but I don’t know how long I can hold out.”