Chrysalis

As if the first gate wasn't impressive enough, the second one is even larger, thicker and more heavily enchanted than the first. Not to mention it positively bristles with ants in defended lookout posts. How anyone could possibly break through, I've no idea. If another wave happened, we'd be laughing at the monsters on the outside. Unless a battering ram made from living metal happens to spawn nearby, I don't think anything will get through.

That's not a challenge, Gandalf! Don't you dare create that frickin' creature just to spite me!

After passing through the second gate, the procession began to break up. Sarah and Jim are led to a nearby chamber to rest as the scouts, soldiers and generals break away to find their own chambers to enjoy their rest. As they march past me I don't see the grateful ants I thought I would, but tense and somewhat resentful ones. You hate rest that much?! For a brief moment I contemplate increasing their enforced break to twenty four hours, but managed to contain myself.

"I told you they wouldn't like it."

"Sloan? Bah! Who cares if they don’t like it? Rest is important and we're all extremely fatigued. They need it."

She shrugs.

"You may be right about that. I know I'm exhausted."

I look at her appraisingly.

"That's not something I hear many members of the council admit to, Sloan. Is this indicative of growth?"

not. Perhaps I've just been

four now, so you

"True."

the stink eye

the design with my pets in tow. The further I go, the more of my siblings begin to cover the surface of the tunnel and I notice something different. The way the tunnel has been shaped is off. Only when I pause, causing a few hurried ants to crawl over me since I'm holding up traffic, do I realise the difference. In the first nest, tunnels were usually round and fairly narrow. Like you would imagine the inside of an ant nest to be back on Earth. Cramped, little tunnels that connect

can be gripped, allowing more ants to move through at the same time. The ceiling is shaped the

inspection. It looks like a metal plate, indented with numerous grooves that form a strange pattern. I look at the thing with interest, unable to work out what it's for. Have the Carvers decided to engage in some sort of modern art project? I wouldn't call the thing objectively beautiful, but it certainly is different. Then all of a sudden the

rest is

"Gah!"

It speaks? Obviously I know that it isn't speaking as an ant would, of its own volition. This is clearly a clever invention that can store pheromonal

a damn thing though. Once it had spread its message,

with a higher ceiling and the surfaces are all constructed with that same wavy rise and fall, dotted with side tunnels. My antennae tingle with a constant stream of ant communication and the persistent trails that advertise where each tunnel leads. Rather disturbingly, in the centre of the chamber, a rather elaborate looking stone statue of what appears to be me stands proudly, pointing into the distance with one leg as the antennae slope forward at a noble and confident angle. An angle you would never find my own antennae at, by the

ants with their carvings and statues! Why? Why would ants like statues?! It makes no sense! I feel a bubbling rage building up in my carapace and for a moment I'm tempted to go

much, but the ants slow down a touch when they see me, some of them muttering or whispering to each other as they rush

a bit of rest. Find yourselves a comfortable chamber and get some sleep. We'll go out hunting tomorrow before

[Hmm. Slip.]

You won't go

[No…]