Ari pushed off the ground, his steps crunching through the dry leaves before the moth could tense its wings.
The moth's eyes widened, antennae twitching once, but Ari was already within reach.
He swept his right mandible across in a level strike, the edge cutting through the wing membrane.
A sharp tear split the air.
The moth stumbled, one foot scraping the soil as its torn wing sagged against its side.
Dark fluid ran from the veins, beading over the ground in uneven drops.
The moth pressed its hand to the torn wing, dark fluid staining its palm. Antennae quivering, its breath came in short, sharp pulls.
"You'll pay for that."
A raw sound left its throat as it straightened.
Ari adjusted his footing, lowering his stance. His fingers tightened around the mandible's hilt, breath steady, eyes fixed on the moth's center.
The air shifted—then a sharp crack split through it.
A whip of thorned vines streaked from the side, coiling around the moth's body before he could move.
The barbs bit into the plates of his exoskeleton, drawing thin lines of blood where they sank in.
The moth's breath rasped through his teeth. His wings twitched weakly against the tightening vines.
No… way. This can't be happening.
Ignatia stood firm, her antennae angled forward, her crimson eyes cold and unblinking.
"This is the end for you, Vorn. Rot in whatever awaits you in death."
Ignatia's arm tensed. She pulled hard, the whip tightening until the thorns bit deep and split through the moth's armor.
A raw scream tore from his throat as his body gave way under the strain, splitting clean apart.
Both halves hit the ground with a dull, wet thud. Dark blood seeped into the soil, the scent sharp in the cool air.
Ignatia drew a slow breath. Her fingers trembled as she loosened her hold, letting the handle slip from her grasp.
The whip fell slack at her feet, its thorns glinting faintly in the moonlight.
Ari's breath steadied, eyes fixed on what was left of the moth.
No way… even in her state, she still managed to defeat him so easily.
His fingers tightened around the mandibles, the tremor in his grip refusing to fade.
The purple-haired butterfly turned toward him, movement slow but deliberate. Her crimson eyes fixed on his, sharp and unyielding.
"You there—ant. Who are you, and what motive did you have for saving me?" Her tone held firm despite the faint tremor of pain beneath it.
Ari stopped where he stood, breath catching in his throat. He swallowed and drew in a slow, careful breath.
Her gaze didn't shift. The weight of it pressed against him, steady and sharp.
Her eyes are terrifying… It's like she's staring straight through me.
Could she be the one that voice was trying to tell me to save?
Her antennae twitched, irritation cutting through her composure.
"Have you lost your voice? I spoke to you—answer me."
Ari straightened quickly, his voice stumbling out before he could think.
"I'm… Lance Corporal Ari! I saved you because… a voice in my head told me to!"
Ignatia blinked once, her expression unreadable. The quiet between them pressed heavier than the clash that had just ended.
Her eyes narrowed, voice low and flat.
"A voice in your head? You expect me to believe such a thing?"
She pressed a palm against the tree and pushed herself upright, the motion slow but deliberate.
A faint stagger broke her balance before she steadied herself, clutching her wounded arm with the other hand.
Blood clung to the edges of her exoskeleton, catching faint light as she breathed.
Her antennae leaned forward, focused and still, as she studied him.
"You risked your life for a voice in your head?" Her wings shifted faintly, brushing against one another. "How many times has it led you before?"
Her gaze moved over him, taking in the wounds along his arms and the dull sheen of dried blood across his armor.
Ari hesitated, trying to piece things together, his fatigue and injuries weighing on him.
"I… don't know what it was. But it felt real. Like someone was calling for help—someone who didn't want you to die."
Ignatia watched him in silence, her expression unmoving at first.
After a few breaths, the sharpness in her eyes eased, though her voice remained steady.
"Then either you are a fool," she spoke quietly, "or something beyond us chose for you to stand here tonight."
She turned her head aside, a faint wince crossing her face as she steadied her breathing and swept her gaze over the quiet around them.
"Regardless, ant, you've stepped into a battle far beyond your understanding."
Her eyes found his again, cold and precise.
"From this moment on, your actions—and your loyalty—belong to me. Do you understand?"
Ari's antennae twitched, confusion tightening in his chest.
"What… do you mean by that?"
Ari's antennae twitched against the shifting air—something off, close.
He moved before thought could form, stepping in front of Ignatia.
Both mandibles came up in one swift motion.
A sharp ring split the air as metal struck metal—his blades cutting through the incoming projectiles, fragments scattering around them.
Sparks scattered across the dirt, fading as they touched the ground.
Ari steadied his footing, eyes fixed on the moth hovering just beyond the haze.
Another flew from the shadows, wings half-spread, quills drawn and ready to fire.
This isn't good… we're surrounded—and both of us are hurt.
His antennae flicked toward the sounds between the trees before he turned his eyes back to Ignatia.
A shadow cut through the air above—one of the moths dove, wings flaring wide as a volley of quills burst from its hind wings.
Ari moved instinctively, mandibles flashing in tight arcs.
Each strike met the quills midflight, the sharp clang of metal echoing through the clearing.
Splinters of shattered quills scattered around his feet.
The next volley came faster.
Without thinking, he lunged toward Ignatia, grabbing her arm.
The strength behind the motion lifted her off balance as he hurled her clear of the attack's path.
She hit the ground hard, exoskeleton scraping against stone before she caught herself on one knee.
Her breath caught in her throat, antennae jerking forward, eyes wide as she looked back at him.
He's… willing to take on all of them alone—to protect me? This mere Lance Corporal… he's courageous, I'll grant him that.
Before she could move, a quill cut through the air and struck Ari's leg, piercing clean through his exoskeleton.
Blood welled instantly, running down the joint in a dark, steady line that glinted against the dull sheen of his armor.
A raw cry tore from his throat.
His grip on the mandibles tightened, the segmented plates along his forearms flexing under the strain.
Pain flared through his limb, pulsing up his side with every heartbeat.
He dropped to one knee, breath rough and uneven, antennae trembling as they angled forward.
With a harsh pull, he tore the quill free and hurled it aside.
Blood spattered across the dirt in thin arcs, soaking into the ground beneath him.
"Damn it…" he hissed under his breath, forcing himself upright again.
His stance wavered, knees trembling beneath the weight of pain, but his eyes stayed locked on the moths circling above.
I've never fought aerial insects with projectiles before, Ari thought, his breathing uneven. I never expected moths to be this strong. If they don't get close enough, I'm stuck on the defensive—and they know that.
He drew in a slow breath, scanning the sky. His antennae twitched at every shift of air.
I need to think of something—and quick.
Ari steadied his footing, legs braced against the dirt.
His mandibles caught a faint glint as the clouds shifted, letting thin strands of moonlight pierce through the canopy and spill across the forest clearing.
One of the moths hovered ahead, its grin widening.
"I don't know which colony you crawled from, or what ties you to this Monarch Ignatia—Monarch Ignatia—but if you think you can stand against us, you're throwing your life away."
He's right. I'm no match for them… not down here.
Ari's antennae drooped, brushing faintly against his brow as he steadied his breath.
The air clung thick with dust and the sharp scent of iron.
His grip tightened around the mandibles, the weight of them grounding him as his chest rose and fell in shallow rhythm.
The Moth's black exoskeleton gleamed under the thin moonlight; its wings flexed and quills bristled.
"Nevertheless. You will be my first to impale, ant. I will take pleasure in watching you die slowly."
Ari braced himself. His legs wobbled, but he forced them steady and bent his knees, planting his feet in the dirt.
His vision blurred at the edges; the world tilted when he blinked.
His chest rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths, each inhale a struggle.
Sweat dripped from his chin.
He tightened his grip on the mandibles, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the moths as the air waited for the next move.
As Ari blinked again, the world vanished into darkness.
No shapes, no light—only a heavy void pressing close against his armor.
What is this…?
His chest tightened, breath caught between his teeth.
Pain struck without warning.
A sharp burst in his leg—then another, driving deep into his arm.
The wet sound of quills splitting flesh rippled through the dark, close enough that he could feel the air shudder against his exoskeleton.
A low, rough groan escaped him.
He forced his feet to move.
Both of his mandibles rose in a tight parry, intercepting two quills with sharp, metallic pings.
A third quill buried itself in his shoulder; the impact sent a stabbing pain radiating along his arm and into his chest.
His breath hitched, each inhale shallow and ragged.
He clenched his jaw as blood slicked down his exoskeleton.
This darkness… it isn't natural. Are they doing this?
A voice rippled through the dark, low and mocking, the sound coming from everywhere at once.
"Confusing, isn't it? You ants cling too much to your sight. Down here, you are only prey."
Ari turned toward the sound, but saw nothing.
Another quill sliced past his face, close enough to draw a thin line of blood.
"Tch—damn it!" He swung his mandibles defensively, hitting only air.
The laughter came again—closer this time.
"You can't block what you can't see."
Another impact followed—a hard strike to his armored foot that sent him staggering back.
The world seemed to spin, the weight of the darkness closing in tighter.
I can't win like this… if I don't find a way to see through it, I'm finished.
A sharp whistle split the air, followed by a clean metallic slice.
Screams burst through the darkness, short and broken, before fading into silence.
The black mist unraveled, curling away in twisting strands.
Ari blinked against the dim light forcing its way back in, his vision slow to steady.
Through the haze, he saw the aftermath: the moths that had surrounded him lay scattered across the ground, their wings torn, their bodies split and motionless.
The silence that followed was heavy—broken only by the faint rustle of wind and Ari's own ragged breathing.
A voice drifted from above, calm yet laced with disdain.
"What a pitiful sight… to see you like this, sister. What would your loyal servants think, Ignatia?"
The tone carried a faint edge of amusement beneath the quiet authority.
Ari's head jerked upward, antennae rising in alarm.
His eyes widened as the shadow above took shape.
Hovering in the air was another butterfly.
Short, dark hair framed a face far too calm for the carnage below.
Blue eyes watched with quiet amusement, their glint at odds with the heaviness in her voice.
The dim light touched her wings, orange and black patterns shifting with each slow beat.
Her dark purple exoskeleton caught the faint glow, polished and regal, as she descended through the thinning veil of mist.
Ignatia's antennae twitched, her tone low and strained.
"Of all who could have come to my aid… it had to be you, Seraphina."
Each word carried the weight of exhaustion beneath the sharp edge of irritation.
Seraphina touched down with effortless grace, wings folding in a slow sweep that left the air trembling faintly.
A small smile curved her lips, but her eyes gleamed with something keen beneath the calm.
"Now, now, sister." Her voice dripped with honeyed mockery. "You sound almost disappointed. Would you have preferred I let the moths finish their work?"
"It would be better than enduring your patronizing tone."
Ignatia's antennae flicked sharply, the edges of her wings shifting as she steadied her breath.
Seraphina tilted her head, a knowing smirk curling at her lips.
"You say that," her gaze drifted toward Ari, "but you were saved by this poor, impudent ant."
She stepped closer, her movements unhurried, voice light yet laced with quiet derision.
"It is difficult to believe this one was moved by your brutish nature enough to risk his life."
Ignatia's antennae twitched, a faint tremor at her jaw.
Who are you calling brutish, you melted deceiver…
Seraphina's eyes glinted. "Look at him—he's on his last breath."
Ari's knees gave out beneath him.
The weight of his body sank into the dirt as the mandibles slipped from his hands, their edges dull with blood.
His breath rasped in shallow bursts, chest tightening with each uneven inhale.