Draven sat at his desk. The surface was a solid slab of resin, wood, and stone, polished to a dull sheen.
He clasped his hands together, resting them just below his nose. His knuckles pressed against his skin. His mind went back to the events of the morning.
"Chief Warden, sir!" A warden snapped his heels together. He raised his hand in a stiff salute.
Draven did not move. "Your report."
"All prisoner labor and rations are accounted for, sir." The warden's voice was high and tight.
Draven turned his head. The bioluminescent fungi from the ceiling hit his eyes, creating a sharp glint in his pupils. "Then...explain the commotion in the storage line."
The warden's eyelids flickered. His pupils dilated. He shifted his weight, but kept his back straight. "What... what do you mean, sir?"
Draven stood up. His armored feet scraped against the floor with a low, grinding sound. "I will ask one more time. Who gave you the order to withhold rations from that prisoner?"
The warden's composure broke. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. "Chief... it was Commander Vladimir. He gave the command. I did not have the authority to ignore him."
"Do you answer to Vladimir?" Draven's voice rose to a shout. He slammed a palm onto the desk. The resin surface vibrated. "I am your commanding officer! This is the Prison Order!"
Draven stepped closer until he was inches from the warden's face. "Vladimir has no power over the treatment of my prisoners. Is that clear?"
"Ye... yes, sir!" The warden's voice shook. He lowered his head. "Forgive me."
Draven took a deep breath as he shifted his weight.
Could it be he has an interest in the prisoner as well? Draven's pupils narrowed as he processed the possibility.
Or does he have ulterior motives?
He stood up. His feet hit the ground with a heavy thud. He walked out of his chamber and into the main corridor.
This isn't like Vladimir, Draven thought.
The muscles in his jaw tightened, creating a hard line along his face.
To intervene with my order... it is an anomaly.
Ari lay on the dirt-packed floor. His body felt heavy and unresponsive. The cold from the earth pressed against his exoskeleton. He forced his eyelids to move. His eyes opened only a sliver.
"Water..." Ari murmured. The sound was low and dry. His lips were cracked.
He closed his eyes, and the darkness of the tunnel shifted into the sharp lines of the upper levels from a few days ago. Ari stood upright. His antennae were rigid.
"What is it, prisoner?" Draven asked. His human eyes softened as they focused on Ari's face.
Ari kept his expression firm. "There is just one thing I want to say. If I work for my one and only meal of the day, and I am deprived of receiving it... then what is the point of working?"
Draven remained silent. His lips stayed parted, but no words came out. He looked at Ari's firm face. He could not find a logical counter-argument to the statement.
"What do you mean?" Draven finally asked.
"The wardens refused to give me food for my labor," Ari stated. "It is an order from Commander Vladimir. I will not work if that is the case."
Draven nodded once. "Very well," he said. "I will look into the matter."
Ari was glad to be free from labor, but a week without food sounded harsh—too cruel. He might die of starvation. Since he refused to work, he wasn't allowed outside his prison cell, which meant that even if Evelyn wanted to share her food, she couldn't bring it to him.
Vladimir...That bastard.
Ari did not have the energy to lift his head. The weight of his own body pressed him into the ground.
I haven't even done anything to deserve this punishment, Ari thought.
His eyes stayed half-closed.
Yet he treats me as if I had committed a serious crime.
A single bead of sweat rolled from his hairline. It moved down his forehead. It stopped at the bridge of his nose. Each second dragged by. Hunger gnawed at his hollow gut. His limbs trembled. He had no power in his muscles.
His breath was shallow. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. It felt rough. Every breath he took tasted stale. Black spots flickered at the edge of his vision. He tried to shift his weight. His legs buckled. He fell back toward the dirt.
Am I going to faint… or simply waste away into nothing?
Lost in thought, he was startled by a knocking on his prison cell. He lifted his head and froze for a moment. Princess Emilia was standing just outside. Her brows were drawn together, and worry was clear on her face.
"Princess Emilia… what are you doing down here?" Ari asked. His eyes widened as he looked at her. His voice came out rough and hoarse from hunger.
Emilia lingered just outside the cell, clutching the bundle in both hands. For a moment, she didn't move. Her antennae twitched as she glanced down the corridor, looking around cautiously as if expecting someone to appear at any second.
After a brief pause, she crouched and slid the food through the bars. Her hand trembled slightly as she pushed the bundle forward. "Here… take this. You must be starving," Emilia said quietly, her voice low and edged with guilt.
Ari slowly reached out with weak arms, but his hands stopped just above the food. His fingers hovered there, unmoving. Suspicion tightened in his chest.
Was this really kindness… or another trick? Vladimir had already left him to starve.
Would Emilia really go as far as poisoning him under the excuse of pity? He hesitated and looked up at her face, studying it carefully.
She didn't look like someone plotting anything. Her antennae drooped slightly, and her mouth was drawn tight with worry. When their eyes met, her gaze stayed steady. Warm. Almost pleading.
Ari swallowed. Slowly, he reached forward again. His hands trembled as he pulled the food toward himself. The smell of the berry reached him immediately—strong and rich after days of emptiness.
He took one bite, then another. The suspicion faded quickly, replaced by raw hunger. Ari began eating faster, no longer holding back. He devoured the food shamelessly, each swallow scraping down his dry throat.
Tears slid down his cheek. One drop fell into the dirt beneath him. "Thank you… Princess," Ari said between bites. His voice was still cautious. "But why… why would you do this for me?"
"I overheard some of the wardens talking about what Vladimir ordered them to do—how they weren't going to give you your daily rations," Emilia explained, her voice laced with concern.
"Listen...I'm really sorry for what Vladimir did to you earlier. He's never acted like this before, and I've known him for almost my whole life. But believe me, he genuinely cares for me and takes my well-being into account."
She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "By the way, you're not hurt, are you? That punch Vladimir gave you the other day was really dangerous."
"No, I'm fine. I was just starving, that's all," Ari said. He kept stuffing food into his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing. Suddenly he flinched. A sharp pain shot through his face, and he lifted a hand to his swollen jaw, holding it as he winced.
"Don't try to hide it. Come closer," Emilia said, gesturing for him to step forward.
Ari hesitated for a moment, then moved closer to the bars. She reached into the bundle and took out a small resin container. The lid gave a soft pop as she opened it.
"Turn your cheek toward me," she said.
Ari shifted slightly. She reached through the bars and gently spread a cool green paste across the swollen side of his face. The moment it touched his skin, the sharp ache in his jaw eased, and the tight pressure began to fade.
Ari blinked. "What is this?"
"Medicinal herbs," Emilia replied. "We grow them inside the colony."
She finished applying the paste and pulled her hand back, studying his face for a moment. "You don't need to act tough here," she said quietly. "I know it must be hard… living like this."
Her gaze lingered on him. "But I'm impressed," she added. "Surviving an attack from Vladimir isn't something most could do."
For a moment, he stayed silent.
She's just like her… always worrying about me.Back then, when she tried to reach out… why did I slap her hand away? The memory lingered in his mind. Ari slowly lifted his gaze and looked into Emilia's green eyes. Emilia watched him for a moment before speaking again.
"By the way...I didn't get your name. I'd like to be acquainted."
Before Ari could answer, he suddenly started choking from eating too quickly.
"Oh no! Wait, here—drink this!" Emilia said flustered, quickly handing him a small container.
Ari snatched it from her and gulped it down desperately.
"You need to slow down! You're eating way too fast," Emilia scolded, leaning a little closer to the bars. "You almost scared me half to death."
Ari thumped his chest once, then let out a short, breathless laugh. "Thanks… I thought I was a goner," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You can call me Ari."
"That's a strange name for an ant," Emilia said, tilting her head slightly. "Tell me… are you from the eastern colonies?"
Ari shook his head. "Well… actually, I'm not from this world," he said. "And I don't belong to any colony."
Emilia's brow furrowed. "What do you mean you're not from this world?"
Ari hesitated briefly before answering. "To be honest, I was a human before this," he said. "But I got hit by a truck. It killed me… and when I woke up, I was here. In this world. As an ant."
Emilia blinked, clearly confused. "What's a human?" she asked slowly. "And… what's a truck? I've never heard those words before."
Ari sighed.
I guess humans don't exist in this world after all. It's not like I was hoping they did. Honestly, the thought terrified me. What if they were gigantic here too? They'd be towering monsters, just like in my old world. One misstep from them could wipe out an entire colony—just like I used to do without thinking. And what if they were as psychotic as I was when I was one of them? He muttered to himself. Emilia glanced down the corridor, her antennae twitching as she listened.
"I have to go now," she said quietly. "It's almost time for Vladimir to check on me. I… sort of snuck down here to bring you food," she admitted, lowering her voice a little more. "I don't want to cause any more trouble for you."
She stepped back from the bars. "But I'll come by tomorrow," she added. Emilia gave him a small, warm smile. "See you, Ari."
Then she turned and walked down the corridor, her footsteps fading as she disappeared around the corner.
Unlike Draven… Valeria… Vladimir… and even the Queen… Ari thought, his jaw still sore from the swelling.
She's different. The Princess… she's… really nice.
He sank to the floor, pressing his back against the cold wall of his cell. His eyelids drooped, and for a few moments, he let himself sink into the relief of being full, even if it was only temporary.
Time stretched. Shadows lengthened in the corridor outside, the faint echo of footsteps occasionally reaching his ears. Ari closed his eyes, trying to steady his racing thoughts. Hunger no longer screamed in his gut, but a dull ache lingered, a reminder of the week ahead.
Just as he was beginning to drift into a light, uneasy rest, a new set of footsteps roused him. This time, they were measured, deliberate—unfamiliar. He froze, straining to hear every word.
"I trust all arrangements are in place, Vladimir. Our patience grows thin," said an unfamiliar voice, sharp and measured, each word deliberate.
"Rest assured," Vladimir replied smoothly, his tone calm, yet every syllable weighed with intent. "All will proceed according to plan, provided your end of the agreement is executed without error."
What are they planning… and who is he speaking to? Ari wondered.
Through a narrow crack in the prison wall, he spotted movement. Two figures stood in the dim corridor. Vladimir's posture was relaxed, yet every gesture radiated control. The other was an ant shrouded in a hood of leaves, its form mostly concealed in shadow but the voice was feminine.
"You will not only be welcomed into our order," the hooded ant said, low and deliberate, "but also granted a position of authority within our ranks. Your stores of food and water will be abundant, more than you could ever require."
"I find your proposal… agreeable," Vladimir said, voice smooth, almost savoring the promise.
"I have already provided you with the colony's strategic intelligence—resources, troop formations, storage locations, even possible escape routes, and also... the key to helping with her recovery," Vladimir continued, his voice dipping into something colder, sharper.
"My loyalty to this venture is absolute. Yet…" His tone lowered, almost a whisper, a thread of menace beneath the calm. "Should there be the slightest hint of betrayal, know that I will personally see to it that the consequences are total."
The hooded ant chuckled softly, almost admiring the subtle menace. "Your concern is noted. You have my word; our allegiance is unwavering."
The hooded ant then inclined its head, eyes gleaming with quiet calculation. "Then in three days, the operation commences, a neighboring colony will invade and conquer this colony just as planned. Ensure that no suspicion is drawn. Maintain your routine meticulously. And manipulate the soldiers' patrols—leave them exposed and unprepared, so that when they strike, it will be with both advantage and precision."
Vladimir paused, tilting his head as if savoring the inevitability of their plan. "Consider it done," he said smoothly. "By the appointed time, their defenses will be as fragile as you require."
"Very well," the hooded ant said, voice devoid of warmth. "We reconvene in three cycles."
A subtle nod, and the figure disappeared into the shadows of the tunnel. As Vladimir turned to leave, his gaze suddenly pierced through the narrow crack in the wall.
Ari held his breath. Their eyes locked. For a heartbeat, he was certain he had been discovered. Then Vladimir's expression shifted—calm, unreadable—and he finally looked away, retreating down the corridor.
Did he see me? No… the crack is far too narrow, Ari thought, forcing himself to remain motionless.
Still, the truth of what he had overheard weighed heavily. If Vladimir truly cared for Emilia as he claimed, why gamble with her safety, the Queen's trust, and the survival of the colony for personal gain?
No… there had to be another motive.
That bastard.
The realization sank into Ari's chest.
What if Emilia trusted him too blindly to question his intentions? What if she dismissed my warning as the ramblings of an outsider—a starving prisoner with no influence?
His hands clenched.
"What am I to do…?" he whispered, voice trembling with tension.
Even if she believed him, the danger was far from over. Emilia's kindness was a shield of spirit, not strategy. If she approached the Queen, Vladimir could twist her words. If she confronted him, he could silence her as easily as he nearly silenced Ari.
He had to warn her. She needed to alert the Queen before it was too late.
I just hope she returns tomorrow… as she promised.