---
The tunnel breathed with life.
Resin walls pulsed faintly as thousands of feet moved back and forth, vibrations rolling like a heartbeat through the earth. The air was thick with pheromones — a symphony of commands that guided every movement: Food. Work. Order. Serve.
The young worker staggered into the flow, body still trembling from the punishment of rain. Its mandibles were empty.
Immediately, antennae brushed against it. Kin recognized the failure instantly, and their scents shifted sharp. Irritation pheromones struck like smoke in its mind: Failure. Weakness. Waste.
Before, it would have bent lower under the weight of the message, shrinking into anonymity. A worker existed only to obey, not to be seen. Workers who drew too much attention, who faltered too often, were dragged away to brood chambers and recycled into sustenance. It was a truth every ant knew.
But now the Queen's command — the invisible pulse pressing through every wall of the nest — no longer flowed smoothly. It pressed like stone on its thorax, heavy, suffocating. What once felt natural now felt like a chain.
For the first time, the ant sensed the difference between obedience and choice.
It did not lower its head. It did not scuttle faster to hide. It simply kept walking, mandibles shut tight, silver light throbbing faintly in the hollow of its chest.
---
Deeper inside the nest, the world shifted.
The worker paused, antennae twitching. Along the resin-lined tunnel walls, faint threads shimmered. Thin, silver streams of light pulsed in rhythm with its own heartbeat.
It froze.
The pattern was not natural. Resin did not glow. Soil did not hum. Yet here the walls faintly quivered with silver.
The droplet it had swallowed had not vanished. It had bled into the nest itself.
Every footfall of its kin stirred the threads, though none reacted. They moved in blind order, never noticing that their world had been scarred.
The worker lowered its head, mandibles grinding softly. Something inside whispered: this is wrong, this is different, this is greater.
Its antennae brushed the silver strands. The threads sang faintly, like the echoes of a dream. The same dream that had shown a vast ant cloaked in constellations.
The whisper returned, silent yet deafening.
Climb.
---
A sudden ripple tore through the tunnels.
Pheromones surged like wildfire: Threat. Predator. Kill.
Soldiers gathered near the tunnel mouth. Larger and broader than workers, their black carapaces gleamed with thicker armor, mandibles honed like blades. They clicked in unison, antennae weaving commands together.
The message spread fast, carried on every breath of air.
Spider. Web. Death.
A predator had claimed the foraging route. Workers had been taken, their bodies cocooned and drained. The soldiers would march to eliminate it.
Workers were not needed. Any worker that strayed into soldier battles was considered expendable and would not be mourned — only harvested after.
Yet the young ant's legs shifted, step by step carrying it closer to the soldiers.
Hunger surged inside — not for crumbs, not for fungus, but for the silver thrum burning beneath its shell. The whisper in its dream pushed forward: Climb.
It broke from the worker lines and followed.
No pheromone gave permission. No command excused it. Still it walked.
---
The world above was slick with storm remnants. Drops clung to blades of grass, trembling orbs that bent stalks beneath their weight. Light fractured inside each drop, scattering rainbows across the dirt.
The soldiers advanced in lines, heavy bodies thudding against soil. The worker stayed at their edge, unnoticed in the swarm.
The scent of predator thickened.
And then it saw the web.
It stretched between stalks, silken ropes glistening with dew. Each strand was thicker than the worker's legs, sticky enough that even soldiers hesitated to touch. The silk hummed faintly with absorbed qi — the residue of prey blood and venom.
Bodies dangled from the threads. Flies, beetles… and two ants, wrapped tight, legs curled and still.
At the web's heart crouched the spider.
It was vast, armored in bristles, its abdomen pulsing faintly with venom. Eight legs shifted, each tipped with barbs. Fangs curved long as scythes, dripping liquid that hissed faintly when it struck soil. Its cluster of eyes gleamed, each lens glistening, each one fixed on the slightest tremor.
The soldiers spread wide, pheromones sharp and hot. Attack. Distract. Bite.
They surged.
---
The first soldier leapt, mandibles clamping onto a joint. The spider twitched, flicking the body aside like dust. A second lunged, sinking jaws into another leg. A third dove straight into the web, anchoring itself, vibrating the threads violently.
The spider spun, fangs flashing. It pounced, stabbing. Venom pierced shell. The soldier convulsed, body curling instantly as poison devoured it from within.
Another soldier leapt — only to be snatched midair, spinnerets spewing silk. Webbing cocooned it alive, layer after layer, the struggling body muffled until nothing remained but stillness.
The young worker watched from the edge, trembling.
Instinct screamed: Flee. Hide. Survive.
Workers did not fight. Workers did not challenge predators.
To step forward was death.
Yet with every kin that fell, the silver glow inside burned hotter, pressing against its ribs.
Another soldier was caught, dragged screaming toward the heart of the web. Its antennae twitched frantically, sending out one last desperate cry the worker could not ignore.
Something inside snapped.
---
The worker surged forward.
Its mandibles clamped onto a silk strand as thick as rope, sticky and unbreakable. Normally, such a strand would hold an entire soldier immobile.
But as the worker's jaws tightened, silver light flared along their edges.
The silk hissed. Fibers smoked. With a sharp, ringing crack, the strand snapped.
The cocooned soldier tumbled free, legs flailing as it scuttled back to ground.
The colony froze for half a heartbeat. Even the spider paused, all eyes locking on the small anomaly glowing faintly with silver fire.
The worker panted, chest heaving, mandibles trembling with power. The glow had not faded.
It had grown.
---
The spider's stillness ended in a flash.
It lunged, body crashing down. Legs stabbed, fangs gleamed.
The worker did not run.
It met the predator head-on, mandibles blazing silver.
Its jaws clamped onto a bristled leg. Pain lanced as venom splattered across its shell, burning lines into carapace. The agony almost made its legs buckle, yet the glow burned hotter, letting it endure where it should have collapsed. Still its bite sank deeper than any worker's should. The glow seared flesh, leaving a smoking wound.
The spider shrieked — not in words, but in vibration, a tremor of rage and pain that shook the web like a storm wind.
Soldiers seized the moment. They swarmed the weakened joint, mandibles tearing, legs anchoring, bodies sacrificing to hold it down.
The spider reared back, lashing violently. Soldiers flew, crushed, shredded — but others clamped tighter.
Piece by piece, bite by bite, the predator was dragged into death.
---
The web sagged under torn limbs, strands trembling like broken harp strings. The spider twitched once more, then fell silent. Its corpse reeked — venom, blood, and bitter qi spilling into the ground.
Soldiers swarmed over the body, slicing it apart, dragging chunks toward the nest. The air was thick with the scent of qi-rich ichor, and the worker's mandibles twitched involuntarily. Hunger clawed at it — a new hunger that fungus and crumbs could never satisfy.
The young worker stood apart.
Silver still pulsed faintly beneath its shell. Its mandibles glowed soft, streaked with spider's ichor. Venom burns etched scars along its body, stinging but not fatal.
Its legs trembled. Not from weakness, but from hunger. The light demanded more.
It lifted its gaze. Above, the sky stretched vast and endless, clouds drifting careless and infinite.
It remembered the vision: the ant cloaked in stars, mandibles like starlight.
It no longer felt like a worker at all. Something new pressed inside its shell, something that demanded a name beyond what the colony gave.
One bite, and even giants bled.
One step, and the sky felt closer.
The worker clicked its mandibles once, sharply.
Climb.
And it marched onward.
---