The world was ending.
Above the fractured earth, the sky bled red and black, a wounded canvas torn open by storms of fire and ash. Rivers had long dried into skeletal veins, trees into monuments of charcoal, and entire mountain ranges collapsed into yawning chasms that exhaled smoke. It was not a death of sudden violence, but of a body rotting slowly, crumbling year by year.
Yet deep within a cavern carved of white stone, life still stirred.
A pulse of light radiated from the heart of the chamber, faint but stubborn, as if the world itself had forgotten how to breathe but this single flame refused to go out. Around it, five figures stood tall ants, yes, but not of the kind that scurried in dust or soil. Their carapaces gleamed with faint luminescence, their movements sharp and regal, every step carrying the weight of centuries.
They were the Chosen Sentinels of the White Branch, and they were kneeling.
Before them loomed their queen.
She was immense, her body weakened yet radiant still, her great wings folded like ancient banners behind her. Her breath came shallow, her voice faltering, but her eyes black pools reflecting stars remained unwavering. The air itself seemed to bend around her, heavy with the pressure of her presence.
"My children," her voice whispered not aloud, but through the bond, echoing within each of their minds. "Our world has fallen beyond repair. The Branch… it cannot die here."
The Sentinels pressed their antennae to the ground as one.
One among them, the eldest, raised his head. "We are prepared, my Queen. We will carry the Branch, as sworn."
The queen's gaze swept across them fierce, sorrowful, unyielding.
"You will not only carry it," she said, her aura surging faintly, "you will live within it. Your strength, your will, your power will endure… until the day one is chosen to bear you. This host king or queen they will not rule alone. They will rule with you."
A pause hung, heavy and final.
Another Sentinel stirred. "And you, my Queen?"
Her antennae trembled. A faint shimmer of silver light rippled along her carapace. For a moment, she seemed smaller, dimmer then she straightened again, as if refusing to bow to the truth clawing at her.
"I will remain." Her voice was steady, but the bond carried a subtle tremor, a quiet ache. "Know this, my children: even when you pass into the Branch, our bond does not end. I will still draw upon your strength, wield your powers, until the last breath leaves my body. This is our gift, our curse, our uniqueness."
The Sentinels stirred at her words, their hearts swelling with pride. Yes, this was the secret of their race. Where others severed ties at death, their queen endured with her children, able to wield their essence until her own end. Even in sacrifice, she was never alone.
The relic was brought forward the White Branch, radiant yet fragile, veins of light running through its pale, woodlike body. As the Sentinels gathered in a circle, the queen's power flowed outward, surrounding them in waves of heat and pressure. The chamber shook as cracks raced along the walls, but the ritual continued.
"You will bind yourselves," the queen intoned. "Your true forms will rest within the Branch, yet your strength will remain alive. When the host is chosen, they will command your abilities. Not as fragments of memory, no. As warriors reborn."
One by one, the Sentinels stepped forward, their bodies breaking into streams of light, threads of pure essence weaving into the Branch. Their silhouettes shimmered, fading but not ending, voices resonating in unison:
"We carry the Branch."
"We carry the memory."
"We carry the oath."
The White Branch pulsed brighter, silver veins flaring as if it had awakened. Within its core, the Sentinels' power hummed silent, coiled, alive, waiting for the one who would wield them.
And even as they vanished into the relic, the queen exhaled, and the chamber filled with her aura again. Their power still pulsed inside her veins, living, burning. She had not lost them. Not yet. Not until she herself was gone.
And then, with a final wave of the queen's power, the relic was cast into the dark beyond the ruined skies. It vanished like a star swallowed by the void.
The chamber fell silent again.
The queen remained in the shadows, wings trembling, her breath shallow. Alone, she whispered into the silence:
"Find them. Protect them. Guide them."
Her voice faded, but whether it was the silence of death or the silence of patience… no one could say.
The world crumbled, but the legacy endured.