The hole was dark.
Not the kind of darkness that swallowed light completely, but the kind that pressed in, heavy and watchful. Since Conner had already cleared the entrance, the space near the opening was almost empty. A few lost soldier spider ants still lingered, moving without coordination, as if the connection that guided them had been cut.
They never had time to react.
With Tehom in his hand and camouflage already active, Reever moved through them without sound. It felt less like fighting and more like erasing mistakes that had been left behind. One moment the ants existed. The next, they did not.
Being an assassin, he thought, was easier when the enemy did not know fear until it was too late.
Once inside, the true structure revealed itself.
At the center of the room, a massive tunnel had been dug straight downward, its edges rough and uneven, as if carved in a hurry. No creatures were coming out of it. No sound. No movement. That alone was wrong.
"We're entering the hole," Reever whispered, his voice sliding directly into Conner's ear through the communicator. "Do not lower your guard."
Conner nodded without speaking.
Reever jumped first.
The fall was controlled, clean. Fifty meters was nothing to him. He adjusted his descent with ease, landing without a sound at the bottom. The ground absorbed the impact as if it had been expecting him.
Conner followed soon after, landing a short distance away.
Reever deactivated his camouflage and turned to face him. Even through the helmet, his attention felt sharp.
"The king might have sensed us," Reever said quietly. "When we killed his soldiers, he likely decided to move. Be careful of traps and ambushes. If you have something that makes you silent, use it. My skill only works on one person."
With that, he activated camouflage again and vanished.
Conner did not hesitate.
He summoned a small spherical object into his palm. It was black, smooth, etched with faint runes that seemed to shift when looked at too long. He crushed it with his fingers.
A soft white glow wrapped around his body, thin and gentle, not blinding. Then it faded, sinking into his skin as if it had never existed.
Reever noticed.
He did not ask.
"I hope that works," Reever's voice came through the communicator.
Conner nodded, even though he knew Reever could not see it. "It does."
The tunnel stretched far beneath the surface, cutting across the underground like a wound. It was wide enough for dozens of creatures to move through at once, which explained how the colony had grown so quickly.
Strangely, it was not dark inside.
Mushroom-like bulbs clung to the ceiling, glowing in a dull green-blue light. The air was cool, clean. Too clean. The walls bore scratch marks, layered over each other, signs of constant movement.
They advanced slowly.
Every step was measured. Every shadow examined. Reever's senses reached outward, feeling for changes in pressure, sound, intent. Conner followed behind him, alert, his hands never straying far from his swords.
After a long stretch, the tunnel ended.
Or rather, it opened.
They stood before a wide chamber, and from it branched ten tunnels. Each one identical. Same height. Same width. Same faint glow. No markings. No signs to tell them apart.
A decision point.
"What do you think?" Conner asked. "Ten tunnels. Two people. Do we split up, or move together?"
Reever became visible again, his form emerging out of nothing. He stood still, studying the tunnels like a puzzle that could bite back.
"We split," he said after a moment. "If one tunnel is a trap and we're both inside it, we lose options. These tunnels are likely connected. Spider ants wouldn't rely on a single path."
Conner nodded slowly.
"If you have a communicator, now would be the time," Reever added.
Conner summoned two small objects into his hand. They looked like butterflies made of metal and light, delicate but precise.
He handed one to Reever. "Put it behind your ear."
Reever paused. He would need to remove his helmet.
Conner noticed. "It can attach to your helmet. We'll still communicate."
He reached out and fixed it himself, pressing it against the side of Reever's helmet. It locked in place smoothly.
"Thanks," Reever said.
He stepped back, his presence settling again.
"Choose any tunnel," Reever continued. "Be cautious. There may be players ahead, controlled by the ants. Free them if you can. That gives you allies. If you encounter other teams, do not engage. Move carefully."
Conner took the tunnel at the far end of the chamber.
Reever chose the one directly opposite.
As he entered, camouflage activated once more. Tehom rested firmly in his hand. In an unknown place, carelessness was death.
The tunnel swallowed him.
The walls felt closer here, the light dimmer. The hum of the colony vibrated faintly beneath the stone. Reever moved without sound, his footsteps nonexistent.
He counted every breath.
After some distance, he noticed something wrong.
The air changed.
A faint pressure pressed against his senses, like being watched by something that did not blink. He slowed further, almost stopping entirely.
Then he heard it.
A breath that was not his.
Reever froze.
A figure stood ahead, half-embedded in webbing, barely visible against the wall. Human. Alive. Their eyes were unfocused, body trembling slightly.
Controlled.
Reever approached carefully.
Before he could act, a voice whispered through the communicator.
"Bot 067," Conner said. "I found players too. Controlled. Looks like the king marked them."
"Do not engage recklessly," Reever replied. "Break the connection first if you can. The one controlling them is still nearby."
Reever raised Tehom, preparing to strike precisely where the webbing connected to the nervous system.
This was no longer a hunt.
This was surgery.
And somewhere deeper in the tunnels, something was moving.
Something aware. And Reever knew that the King was in his tunnel.