The air vibrated with panic, the ground still trembling from the cricket's last pounce. The chased ant froze, certain that death was moments away. "Don't tell me you give up now? We were having such fun time together. Personally, I had hoped you would've amused me longer. But. I am afraid all good things must come to an end." his mandibles clicked, his shoulders tensed, his legs ready to grab the fruit of his labor. Until the wall behind him burst open with a spray of dust and gravel.
Three figures charged through the stone. His eyes widened as he saw them, two familiar shapes and one regal form that gleamed faintly with a strange, inner power.
"The giant... guys.... you came back for me..." the ant whispered.
The giant gave no reply. He leapt first, slamming into the cricket's hind leg, mandibles locking onto chitin. The others followed, clawing and biting, their movements swift and unified. The cricket screeched in rage, twisting its monstrous body, slamming into the walls with a strength that shook the tunnel. Its blade-like limbs slashed wildly, catching one ant's side and sending him skidding.
"Foolish pests!" the cricket snarled in a chittering voice that echoed through the cavern. "You think you can defeat me! You are nothing than just drinks and desserts!"
"By the time we are done you will be our dinner!" snapped one of the ants.
Adam released his hold and flipped backward with practiced dexterity. He raised his head, and a strange pressure filled the air.
[System Notification: Active Ability — Silk Glands (Tier 1) Activated.] [Cost: 4 MP per use. Remaining Mana: 26/30.]
From his abdomen, threads of glistening silk shot forth, snaring the cricket's legs and sticking to the nearby stone. A network of sticky fibers spread in moments. But the cricket only laughed. With a contemptuous flick of its legs and a twist of its body, it tore through the webbing like paper. Threads snapped and fluttered down like snow. "You think this will stop ME?" the cricket taunted. "This isn't even floss between my teeth."
He surged forward, swiping with one leg. Adam barely dodged, but the impact against the ground threw his comrades back, antennae ringing, legs buckling. The air turned quiet. "We can't overpower him directly," the giant muttered, clicking as he backed away, bruised but still burning with resolve.
"Then what do we do?" one ant rasped, trembling.
"We lead him to the trap."
Without waiting, Adam spat another webbing behind them and turned tail.
"Run! Follow me!"
The cricket shrieked and lunged. "Cowards! Run all you like. I'll snap your necks first! Twist your bodies and use your shells as plates!"
The chase resumed, but this time, the Ant King was in control. Every few paces, he sprayed silk onto the path—sticky, slowing, clogging. The cricket didn't notice it at first, so focused he was on his prey. His legs began to grow sluggish, slipping with each sprint.
The giant's voice echoed behind him, to the ant that had been chased before: "Is there a split tunnel near?!"
"Yes! Up ahead—ten paces! Two paths—right loops, left slopes down!"
"Good."
As they reached the fork, Adam clicked sharply. "Split! Left and right!" The other ants turned right. The King dashed left, laying thicker webs behind him. The cricket, disoriented and now slowed, gave chase.
They ran deeper into the earth, toward a memory of hairs… and a lurking nightmare beneath. The earth pulsed with dread.
Each tremor behind them was the rhythm of death closing in. The three ants dashed into the darkened tunnel, the air thick with spores and the moist scent of rot. Behind them, the ground cracked with violence, a screech tore through the passageway like a blade of noise. The cricket was coming.
Not with the hesitant cruelty he had used before. No. This time, he was hunting. "He's really fast! He is gaining up on us!" one ant shouted, panting, voice ragged with fear.
"He's not playing anymore!" screamed the second, antennae twitching erratically.
The tunnel twisted downward, forcing the ants to leap over mossy roots and duck under the thick, sagging stems of glowing mushrooms. The soft light danced over their shells as they pushed forward, legs slipping on the fungus-slick ground.
The roar behind them grew louder—then silence. A single moment of unbearable stillness.
WHOOSH.
The cricket dropped from above. Its wings flared open like black razors, shimmering slightly in the fungal glow. The sudden downdraft of air scattered the mushroom spores and knocked the ants aside. It landed with thunder, claws gouging deep into the earth, mandibles clicking with hunger. It rose to its full height, then dropped to all fours.
"AHHHHHHH! He looks even more hideous than before!"
The chase began anew.
He was no longer bounding or leaping. He was running, galloping, like a shadow given flesh. Every time the tunnel widened, his wings caught wind, and he surged forward with terrifying grace, rebounding from the curved walls like a predator built for this exact terrain. "LEFT!" cried the lead ant.
They veered, ducking into a side passage. The fungal flora here grew thicker, red bulbous mushrooms the size of their thoraxes erupted from the ground, and pale vines hung like curtains. The ants slipped between them, legs scraping bark-like stems and brushing dew-soaked leaves.
But nothing slowed the cricket.
He burst through the vegetation like it was made of paper, his limbs cleaving entire clusters of mushrooms into dust. A root wall loomed ahead, twisting cords of old life, and they scrambled beneath its arch. Behind them, a sharp krkkk echoed as the cricket's claw sliced through it like warm wax.
"He's right behind us!"
"We can't outrun him forever!"
The tunnel veered again, opening into a low cavern strung with thin, luminous mycelium threads. They glimmered like silk—but weren't. The ants ducked and wove through them, the world now tinged blue and silver.
Then—
CRASH.
The cricket dived from a high shelf. He twisted in the air, wings flaring again, and landed just behind them, close enough that one of his clawed limbs grazed the hind leg of the rearmost ant.
"AAH! He touched me! He touched me!"
"Don't stop!"
Even now, the cricket didn't roar. He grinned. His mandibles opened slightly, voice crawling into their minds.
"Run... little legs. You can run... But you won't be able to hide.... FROM ME!"
He flapped his wings, using the current to slide sideways across the stone wall, rebounding and slamming into the floor again. Every movement was a promise. " You will not escape." And yet the ants pressed on.
One ducked beneath a hanging root, another vaulted off a soft mushroom cap, the third dashed through a ring of luminescent ferns. The cavern echoed with breath, claws, and the skittering steps of both prey and predator. Still, they survived. But only barely.
Each breath was acid. Each step, agony. Yet the tunnel ahead still led somewhere—maybe, just maybe, to safety. Or to a trap. But right now, there was no room for doubt. Only the hunt.
The walls around them blurred as they dashed, sharp rocks scraping their exoskeletons, mandibles clenched in terror. Their legs ached from the strain, but they didn't dare stop. The air behind them shrieked—the piercing whistle of wings fluttering in abrupt bursts. The lead ant's antennae twitched violently. "Right! Sharp turn!"
Without hesitation, they veered sharply into a narrower passage. The cricket, undeterred, smashed into the wall behind them, splintering stone in an explosion of dust. He rebounded effortlessly, laughing as he gave chase. "You think I'll fall for it again?" the cricket mocked as his legs propelled him forward. "No more games!" Then, there it was—the strange patch of hair-like tendrils protruding from the earth, barely visible in the gloom. The lead ant saw it and yelled, "NOW!" The three ants skidded and leapt clear, antennae tucked close, as the tunnel behind them quivered.
WHIP!
The ground erupted. The larva lunged.
But the cricket was ready. With shocking speed, he spun on his hind legs, grabbed the lunging creature mid-air with two arms, and slammed it against the stone floor. Before it could recoil, his mandibles drove deep into its body. A grotesque squelch echoed as its fluids sprayed in all directions. The larva twitched… then went still. "You think I would fall for it again," the cricket growled. "Like I said. No more games!" He resumed the chase without pause, his steps pounding like hammers.
Ahead, silk lines shimmered in the dark, laid by frantic workers. The ants pushed themselves to the limit, crawling over roots, ducking under fungi caps, weaving between stone and pulsing mushroom stalks that glowed a sickly blue.
Every turn felt tighter. Every second heavier. At last, they reached a chamber. And froze. A wall of stone. A dead end.
"No… no!" one ant screamed, pressing against the wall, antennae flailing. They turned. The cricket was already there.
He landed silently, then rose tall, eyes gleaming. "Cornered prey," he whispered, licking the edge of his mandibles. "Now the feast really begins." Drool oozed from his mouth as he stepped forward. His claws sliced through the silk lines like paper. The ants cowered, pressing back.
But then—
CRACK.
A sound from above. Dust trickled.
Then the ceiling gave way.
THRUM! A thick silk net collapsed, dragging heavy rocks with it. The cricket's eyes widened, but it was too late.
Stone and silk crushed down upon him.
BOOM! The cavern trembled. And from the dust, descending gently, clinging to the last strand of silk—
The giant.
Silent. Watching.
His arrival was not with thunder, but with finality.
It had all been a trap.
The giant's trap.
Adam's trap.