The wilderness lay quiet beneath the silver crescent moon, its glow casting long, trembling shadows through the towering blades of grass that surrounded Ari like ancient sentinels. Every distant chirp or rustle snapped him to attention, heart pounding in the cold night air. But this solitude—this silence—was exactly what he needed. Out here, there was no one but himself, the steady rhythm of his breath, the biting wind brushing against his skin, and the rough earth beneath his feet.
Tonight marked the final time he would complete his daily training quest.
At the edge of a rocky incline, the first challenge awaited: a vertical climb. The cliff face was jagged and steep, its surface slick with moss and dew. When he had first attempted this climb days ago, his fingers trembled, and his arms barely held his weight before he slipped back down. But now…
With claws digging into every crevice, Ari moved swiftly and deliberately. Each pull lifted him higher; every foothold was found without hesitation. His muscles worked in harmony—arms pulling, legs pushing—tempered by pain and repetition. The cold nipped at his fingertips, but he welcomed the sharpness; it was a reminder that he was alive, growing stronger with every effort.
In less than three minutes, he reached the summit. Pausing, he gazed out over the dark expanse below, the wind rushing past him, stirring his hair and filling his lungs with cold, fresh air.
"One down," he murmured, brushing dust from his shoulder.
He dropped down, rolling to break the fall, and moved toward the next trial: the grueling weighted crawl. Thick roots bound to heavy stone slabs coiled around his waist. He tightened the knots and lowered himself to the damp earth.
His body surged forward like a wild beast—muscles straining but controlled. His forearms dragged his weight while his legs pushed steadily, the stones scraping loudly behind him. The uneven terrain bit at his skin, but he did not slow. His breath stayed measured, his will unbroken. Gone were the screams and trembling of early days; now there was only resolve.
When he finally reached the trail's end, his arms burned fiercely and his back ached, but he stood tall—proud.
Next came the infamous boulder push.
The massive rock sat like a dormant beast in a small clearing. When he had first met it, Ari could barely nudge it. Now, he approached with quiet confidence. Pressing his hands to its cold surface, he gritted his teeth and pushed.
His legs anchored deep into the soil, veins bulging across his arms. The boulder shifted—then rolled forward. Step by steady step, he drove it across the dirt. The friction growled beneath its weight, but his strength never wavered. As it tumbled to the hill's edge, he stopped it with his foot, chest heaving.
Collapsing to his knees, he smiled through the exhaustion.
"One more," he breathed.
The final task was an obstacle sprint. Ari had fashioned it himself—a twisting gauntlet of branches tied between sticks, loose stones underfoot, and hidden pits cloaked by leaves. He crouched low, eyes fixed ahead, then launched himself forward.
He darted over fallen logs, leapt through tangled vines, and slid under narrow gaps. Each footfall was precise, his body moving faster than thought. This time there were no mistakes. He wasn't just running the course—he was flying through it.
At the finish, he skidded to a halt, gasping for breath, heart pounding, legs screaming in protest. He had done it.
Before him, the air shimmered as the familiar system message appeared:
Daily Quest Complete
Vertical Wall Climb: Complete Weighted Crawl: Complete Boulder Push: Complete Obstacle Sprint: Complete
Reward: Full Recovery
A slow, heavy exhale escaped him as he sank against a thick tree root. His body trembled, sore and drained, every muscle aching, even blinking an effort.
"Alright… finally finished," he whispered, voice rough and low. "I'll go through everything once more… then use the full recovery. That should be enough."
With stubborn determination, he rose and repeated each task in a shortened version—not for the reward, but to cement his progress. Each movement was heavier, slower, muscles screaming louder. At the end, he collapsed, sweat mingling with the soil beneath him.
Through grit and resolve, he clenched his jaw, opened the system panel, and activated his prize.
Full Recovery Activated.
A warm pulse radiated from his core, spreading outward like a wave. Pain vanished instantly—soreness and fatigue evaporated. But more than relief, his body changed.
His arms thickened with new muscle. His chest expanded, abdomen hardened with fresh strength. His shoulders broadened, and his stance grew firm and grounded. No longer merely a survivor, his body had evolved into a weapon.
He flexed a hand, staring in awe.
"…Stronger again," he whispered. "But I honestly don't know how much good all this training will do me at that fortress. Or if I'll be able to beat Hopper…"
The cold wind brushed his face, carrying a distant, chilling screech. His gaze shifted northeast, where the grasshopper fortress loomed—a dark, jagged silhouette against the horizon.
His eyes narrowed, fists clenched tight.
"But I do know I can't back down. Not now. Not after everything," he said quietly, more to himself than the night. "Whatever Anastasia and Lily said… I have to try. I have to save her. No matter what."
Checking his satchel and tightening the straps on his water container, he turned and stepped into the darkness—toward the storm waiting ahead.
Several hours earlier, under the deep night sky, six ants moved steadily through dew-kissed grass, their path lit only by moonlight. Commander Anastasia led Rory, Isla, Beatrice, Lily, and Brooks as they conserved their strength for the battle ahead.
Eventually, they came upon strange terrain—tunnels carved into hardened clay, reinforced with bark and woven grass. The outskirts of another colony.
Isla tilted her head, curiosity evident. "Wait… what are we doing here?"
Rory and Beatrice exchanged puzzled looks.
"Are they going to help us with the mission?" Brooks asked.
"Yes," Anastasia answered calmly. "Preparations were made two days ago. I've already spoken with their commander."
Four ants emerged from the tunnel entrance. Isla and Rory immediately recognized two of them.
"Commander Ruth and General Ivan…?" Isla gasped.
The towering general smirked. "I see you've assembled a team. Are you sure you need our help?"
Anastasia crossed her arms. "Last I checked, I only asked Ruth for aid. Along with some of her lieutenants."
Ivan scoffed. "Just admit it. You need me to stand a chance against that blasted grasshopper."
"Oh really? If I recall, you lost to me when I was still a lieutenant," Anastasia replied with a raised brow.
"That was a fluke—my hand was stuck," he muttered, clearing his throat.
"Anyway…"
"Thank you for considering our request," Anastasia said, bowing slightly. "We'll need every fighter we can get."
"Of course," Ruth said warmly. "You helped our colony recover after the famine two years ago. This is the least we can do."
Two more ants stepped forward. Isla leaned toward Rory and whispered, "Who are those two behind them?"
"How should I know?" Rory whispered back.
The female smiled warmly. "Since it's our first meeting, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Lieutenant Amelia. I've heard a lot about you."
The male nodded. "Name's Leon. Also a lieutenant."
Anastasia squinted. "I wasn't aware either of you were in the colony during the meeting."
"They weren't," Ruth explained. "These two are leaders of our scout and execution squads. They returned from a long-range voyage just yesterday. Seasoned soldiers—hand-picked for this."
"Then we're lucky to have them," Anastasia said.
Beatrice glanced at Ruth. "So… were you extorted by Hopper too?"
"No," Ruth said. "Unlike most colonies, we settled here three years ago—deep in the wild. We move only at night, avoid contact, and never attract attention. That's how we've stayed free."
"Hah! Who'd be dumb enough to let grasshoppers take control anyway?" Ivan added smugly. "If it were me, I'd have taken down their leader on the spot."
Ruth rolled her eyes. "Enough. We leave before dawn."
The group nodded and marched on, footsteps rustling through wet soil.
Rory glanced around. "Now we've got… a general, two commanders, three lieutenants, two corporals, and two lance corporals. That's ten of us. And the four of them are stronger than Isla and me."
Isla nodded, clutching her mandible tightly. "Ari… just hold on. Help is coming."
Far ahead, in the darkness, Ari traveled alone—closer and closer to the storm.