Chrysalis

There had been little to no communication from the council, not that it was a surprise to Captain Wallace. In recent years, the ruling families had become little more than leeches, perpetually sucking at the prosperity that their ancestors had achieved. He could almost imagine their faces, locked in their mansions as they panicked and strove to preserve their possessions. The indecision and paralysis that had likely seized them in this crisis was so easy to picture it was almost comical. A wisp of glee bubbled up in the captain’s belly and he nearly giggled out loud before he restrained himself.

The pressure had pushed him right to the edge, he could tell that about himself, now. The despair that he'd thought had fallen away from him he now realised was merely suppressed, forced into the background of his mind where it ate away at his sanity. He was grateful for it. In half an hour he'd been able to move with incredible purpose, and enact decisions with crystal clarity thanks to his own burgeoning insanity, and he had hopefully enabled, not a saving of lives, but a more dignified end for the city which he had served his entire life.

Because it was coming to an end, indeed, it was already over. He could see it so clearly. The insects had penetrated the city's defences with such insulting ease, had presented those tasked with protecting the people with such an impossible task. Defend against insurmountable odds on every conceivable front? It fundamentally could not be done. What choice did he have but to try and pull his people back to a central location? No other option was presented to him.

When that thought struck him, Wallace was led to a conclusion that disturbed him in a way that he found difficult to shake. He had made the correct decisions for his people, his decades of experience assured him of that. If there were better moves to make, he simply didn't know them. Yet he couldn't help but feel that he'd been led to his current position, that he'd been dancing in the palm of his opponent all this time. That each of his decisions, as good as they'd felt at the time, were nothing but a path that had been set in front of his feet by another intelligence.

Could it be possible that the ants themselves were not the orchestrators of this invasion? The way they'd so expertly tested and circumvented the protections around the city, the way they'd so efficiently overwhelmed any opposition. That didn't strike him as anything that he'd ever read of conflict against Dungeon spawned ants. The literature that he'd seen was clear, ants would throw themselves forward in suicidal rushes, crawling over massed piles of their own dead to reach their enemies. Unending hordes of low tier creatures, starved of Biomass and experience attacking single points, following scent trails from their nests, battering against the foe until the prey grew tired, or sloppy, or simply gave up hope. He knew from the scanning array that not a single one of these creatures was below tier three! How could this be any ordinary colony?!

cough, although a few guardsmen and women nearby looked at him askance. Someone had tamed an ant Queen, used it as a pet and were now utilising it to assault Rylleh. This was the most plausible explanation! Why didn't he think of it before? Was it

given the population. It was home to the administrative and ruling arm of Rylleh. The council building, the treasury, the guard offices and the sorts of wide open, well gardened spaces that only the extravagantly wealthy could afford to surround themselves with in a literal underground living space, all surrounded with a largely decorative but still functional wall. Those manicured lawns and elaborate rock gardens were now covered in shivering and crying refugees. The inner sanctum of the elite, perforated by those people they most wanted to keep

and give a weapon, along with Wallace himself. He hadn't heard from Yasmine in more than ten minutes, apparently lost somewhere near the market. A shame that, she was a good officer, if a little soft. He stared out into the city, waiting for the attacker’s next move. Would they come forward to try and negotiate? In

thought would happen, he was still shocked when a one-armed man, dressed in an earthy brown robe with what appeared to be antennae sticking out the top, along with another twenty of his kind, stepped slowly down the main road toward them. Behind those figures stood two enormous ants, perhaps

"Hee, hee!"

Clumsily woven antennae drooping down over their faces from the top of their hoods that did little to properly conceal their faces. Were these really the

shot, then every single one of them would die. Judging by the expressions on those around him, this fact was very apparent to everyone, not just to him. The overwhelming

before they got any closer. The figure in the lead, a young man with only one remaining arm, paused his step, which led the entire procession to come to a halt. There was a long moment

THE PRESENCE