The fissure was barely wide enough for Hill's body. He forced himself into the vertical crack, rough stone scraping his skin raw.
Complete darkness enveloped him, leaving him to navigate by touch alone. His fingers searched for any handhold in the smooth rock walls that pressed against him from both sides.
Thankfully, the ants within the hatchery hadn't noticed his departure into the fissure.
His thoughts wandered back to when the phantom hand had gone off on its own to distract the ants. It was definitely... sentient. Almost as if the hand belonged to someone else, and he was just borrowing it periodically. Except this time, the owner of the hand had decided to personally help him instead.
Yes, that was what it was.
It was a weird feeling. He felt like he should be bothered by such a discovery, but strangely, he felt comforted.
A silent partner in the soul's shadow... I should have realized thisearlier. Silly me.
The crack widened vertically. Heading upwards was a valid option. The alternative was going back down toward whatever had chased him here. There was no way he was going to consider that option.
He began to climb using an improvised technique—chimneying—pressing his back against one wall and his feet against the other. Each movement was incredibly painful for the skin on his back, due to him grinding against the wall in order to push himself upwards.
Sweat dripped into his eyes, but he couldn't spare a hand to wipe it away. The hatchery below was dangerous ground. A sensitive area such as that one would certainly have some capable guards.
Something stronger than worker ants would eventually appear—like a queen or worse. The thought alone made him push harder against the stone.
He summoned the phantom hand in order to create enough light so he could see a few feet above. And then, he resumed his climb.
Minutes stretched endlessly into what felt like an hour. His progress was very slow. The muscles in his legs were worn out and past their limit. His breathing was done in uneven gasps.
Occasionally, his worn shoes would slip on the rock, which would cause jolts of panic to shoot through him as he scrambled for a semblance of stability.
Just as his strength began to fail, his reaching hand found a flat edge. He grabbed it and pulled himself up and over it before collapsing onto level ground.
Ah...finally.
His chest heaved as breathed in the new air.
Did I… make it out?
He wasn't in complete darkness anymore, the light was bright enough to cause him to wait for his eyes to adjust.
He'd emerged into another ant tunnel that wider than the fissure but carved from the same dark rock. This one stretched in both directions, disappearing around gentle curves.
However, there were strange patches of bioluminescent fungi that clung to the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. They pulsed with a soft light like a lighthouse in the distance.
The air here was nice and cool, smelling heavy of moss and a few hints of decay. There were tiny droplets of moisture that clung to the ceiling, occasionally falling with quiet plops. He wanted to lick up those drops, but that would be revolting.
He pushed himself to his feet. The smooth walls and occasional six-legged footprints in the stone confirmed his suspicion. This was still in ant territory.
He took a few steps forward, the phantom hand hovering nearby. Every few steps, he paused to listen, but heard only the faint dripping of moisture and his own trudgy footsteps.
Then, a sound split the air—
A human's unmistakable high-pitched scream. The sound echoed off the stone walls and it seemed to come from the direction he was heading in.
Hill froze, his heart pounding in his ribs. His head snapped toward the sound coming from up ahead. Another scream followed, choked off abruptly into a queasy gurgle that made his skin crawl. The silence that followed was somehow worse than the scream itself.
Someone was down there. Someone human. And they were dying.
His first instinct was fear. Was it a trap? Some new monster mimicking human sounds to lure prey? Or was it real?
If real, intervening likely meant death. He was quite tired and his limbs were barely functioning, let alone in a good enough condition to fight. Every survival instinct screamed at him to retreat.
He clenched his fists until his nails sliced into his palms. Steel your mind.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The sounds of what was occurring up ahead seemed to continue, a scuffle of sorts, but he wasn't focused on that. He was gathering his thoughts.
If this is a human, then there's a chance that they are one of the conscripts. I can get myself a comrade! A teammate!
With his action plan fully revised, Hill moved toward the sound, breaking into a stumbling run.
Despite every horror-movie warning against investigating strange noises, he pressed on. The tunnel that seemed to bend smoothly suddenly turned sharply and then widened. The sound had come from just ahead.
He rounded a sharp bend, and he came upon the scene of conflict. The tunnel section was illuminated by patches of glowing fungi that seemed to be more densely packed.
In the center of the wider tunnel section lay a young woman with light blue hair streaked with distinctive dark blue highlights, now drenched in what appeared to be her own blood. Her clothes, a baggy jogger pants and a blood-drenched white t-shirt, were torn up so badly that they could barely pass as a viable clothing option. Blood pooled around her body.
Towering over her was an ant unlike the others he'd seen. Easily twice their size with a glassy black carapace that looked like plate armor. It had vicious barbs protruded from its joints, and its mandibles were massive. Right now, they were clutching the woman's badly mangled leg.
Its eyes burned a malevolent red, far brighter than the lava glow.
The woman was barely holding on, pressing weakly against the ant's head in an attempt to free her leg.
Her fingers slipped against the smooth chitin as she fought her losing battle. Scattered around them were several small metallic objects glinting in the green light that looked like shurikens. Evidently, they had barely scratched the creature's exoskeleton.
Hill was too shocked to speak. He hadn't noticed it but he was frozen still for around ten seconds, just staring at the brutal scene in front of him.
The woman somehow noticed Hill. Her startling amethyst eyes locked with his, tears forming as her mouth opened. Those big beautiful eyes, wide with terror, pleaded more eloquently than words ever could.
"P-please," she gasped.
Hill moved without thinking. He swung his right fist, the phantom hand tethered to the side, and threw an out-of-range right hook. His real fist missed by a long shot but the phantom hand was in range and passed right through the ants head.
The giant ant froze mid-bite. Its head jerked back, mandibles clicking rapidly in its confusion. Clearly disturbed by the strange pressure inside its skull. Its burning red eyes lost its focus for a crucial second.
"Hey, ant!" Hill shouted, his voice echoing off the luminous tunnel walls.
The creature swung toward the new voice, zeroing in on the black-haired boy, his eyes shimmering with an insidious crimson light. Its antennae twitched as it identified this new threat. A grating sound emerged from somewhere within its body.
With a furious sound that sounded like some sort of shriek, the ant lowered its head and charged towards Hill.
A new challenger had arrived, and this prideful ant wasn't planning to share.