To clear the tunnels, the prisoners packed debris into cylindrical barrels.
They rolled them toward the exit.
The incline made the task brutal. The barrels dragged against the slope, threatening to slide back with each push.
Only two ants were ever assigned to move them.
A rule meant to prevent escape attempts, Ari realized grimly.
As he made his way back into the colony, dust clinging to his antennae, Ari froze. Ahead of him, an old, fragile ant collapsed onto the ground, too weak to rise.
"Stand up, you old fool! This is the third time this week," a warden snapped, its voice echoing through the tunnel.
The old ant tried to stand but immediately fell again, completely exhausted.
"You can't say I didn't warn you," the warden growled, raising a thorny vine. The lash cracked against the frail ant's exoskeleton, each strike forcing a ragged cry from his throat.
"Grandpa, no!" a young female ant screamed, rushing forward. She threw herself in front of him, arms spread wide in desperate defense.
She was small in stature, her black hair tied back roughly. Dust clung to her chitin, but her eyes burned with determination.
"He's old… he can't work today," she pleaded, voice trembling. "Please, exempt him just this once!"
"Move out of my way, or do you want to be whipped as well? "The warden's voice was sharp, commanding.
"No! I won't move! I can't just stand here and watch you hurt him! He's the only family I have left!" Her voice broke as she spoke.
"You chose this," the warden said, voice low and heavy. "Don't blame me for what happens next."
He swung the vine toward her. She closed her eyes and turned her face away, bracing for the strike. No impact came.
Slowly, she opened her eyes—and froze. Ari stood in front of her, his chitinous hand gripping the thorny vine mid‑swing. Blood trickled down his palm where the barbs had pierced, his jaw clenched tight. He winced but didn't let go.
The warden's eyes narrowed, stunned for a moment by Ari's actions.
"Listen," Ari said, voice steady despite the strain. "The old ant is worn out. Even if you beat him, he won't just get more energy to work. You'll only end up killing him."
The warden glared, but Ari didn't release his grip.
"Here's the deal," Ari continued. "I'll take on his work today so he can rest. Tomorrow he'll be stronger, more productive. Just leave him alone this once."
After a brief pause, the warden nodded at Ari's logic. Ari exhaled, releasing the whip from his grasp. His hand throbbed, but he kept his expression steady.
"Bring him with you," the warden ordered flatly. "He's spending the rest of the day in his cell without any form of rations."
"Grandpa, can you stand?" the young female ant asked gently but he didn't respond. "It's alright. Just lean on my shoulder. I'll take you to your cell," she said, helping him up with careful hands.
She turned to Ari then, a slight smile breaking through her tears. "Thank you… for helping me and my grandpa," she said softly, before guiding him through the tunnel.
"What did you stop? Get back to work!" the warden shouted, his voice cutting through the tunnel.
The other prisoners flinched, tools clattering against stone as they scrambled to obey. Dust rose in the air, mixing with the sound of hurried digging.
What's wrong with me? Ari wondered.
I thought I really despised ants. So why did I help them just now? Shouldn't it bring me joy to see them in pain?
In this world and in mine, I see ants from two different perspectives. I never imagined they could feel like this—pain, loyalty, love. Watching them suffer almost makes me guilty for everything I've done to them before.
After ten hours of grueling labor, Ari finally finished both his own tasks and the old ant's. He approached the warden overseeing him. Without a word, the warden led him to storage.
On a rough resin slab lay his rations: three pieces of meat for protein, a small cup of water, and a single berry. Ari's stomach tightened at the sight. The food was plain and meager, yet after the endless hours of toil, each bite promised relief.
Ari stared at the raw slab of meat in front of him, puzzled. What kind of meat is this? It looked fresh, but there are no chickens or cows in this world. Where could it have come from? he wondered silently.
Ari sat down and began eating. The meat was tough, the water lukewarm, the berry sharp against his tongue. It's raw… but it tastes okay, he thought, forcing himself to chew slowly.
Suddenly, a tap on his shoulder pulled him from the meal. He turned to see a short female ant with black hair standing beside him, her eyes cautious but curious.
"Um… who are you?" Ari asked, straightening slightly.
"I'm the ant you helped out earlier," the ant said, fiddling with her fingers and averting her gaze. "Thank you for saving my grandpa. I really appreciate it. Here, take this."
She held out her hand and revealed a piece of meat. Ari shook his head. "I don't need that. If anything, you should give it to your grandfather—he didn't get anything to eat today."
"Are you sure?" she asked, surprised. "The meat from mealybugs and aphids actually has really good protein." Her smile was small but genuine.
Ari's eyes snapped wide. His stomach twisted, the humid, earthy scent of the tunnels suddenly overwhelming.
Did she just say mealybugs and aphids? So, I'm… eating bugs?! His voice trembled with disgust inside his mind.
Ari held out the rations. "Here, take this as well and give it to your grandpa," he said, passing her some water and his remaining piece of meat.
Evelyn's eyes widened. She held the meat in both hands, steady but tense. "Thank you. You're very kind," she said. Her voice was quiet, breaking with relief.
So...do you have a name?"
"I'm Ari."
"Ari? That's a very strange name," she said with a chuckle, her black hair shifting as she straightened her posture. "Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself!" she added, her smile brightening. "I'm Evelyn."
"Evelyn?" Ari murmured.
"That's me. My name isn't as strange as yours, though," she said lightly.
Evelyn then noticed his hand was bleeding. Without hesitation, she wrapped it with a leaf to stem the bleeding and applied pressure to the wound.
Ari's lips parted, then closed again. He drew a breath.
"Thank you," he murmured, the words heavy, reluctant.
"It's nothing, really. You got that wound protecting my grandpa. It's the least I can do," Evelyn said.
She smiled, rubbing her nose with a finger.
"So… Evelyn. How did you and your grandfather end up here? If you don't mind sharing." Ari's voice was awkward. His hand rubbed the back of his head.
Evelyn hesitated at the question. Her hands shook, the meat trembling in them.
She drew a deep breath, then lowered her head.
"It's a day I'd like to forget. But…"
She looked up, fear etched across her face.
"My grandpa and I came from a flourishing colony. We had full food storage. A fairly strong infrastructure. Life was peaceful… until he came. A grasshopper named Hopper."
"He came to our colony demanding half of our food supply for the winter. My father and his soldiers refused and tried to resist Hopper, but they were all killed. Our colony was destroyed. My grandpa and I barely escaped with our lives."
Evelyn hesitated. Her hands pressed the meat tight against her chest.
"We wandered the forest. Gathered roots and berries. Just trying to survive.
But one day… ants from this colony captured us. Forced us into labor."
"But enough of that. At least here, my grandpa and I are safer."
She lowered her eyes.
"Even if we're prisoners."
So far, the only living creatures I've seen in this world are ants. I didn't imagine grasshoppers existed too, Ari thought as he looked at her. She's no different from me. But… she lost everything and yet she still has hope. While I was only self‑loathing.
The thought pressed down on him, conflicted.
"You and your grandpa have been through a lot. Go ahead and give him the food. He must be really starving right now," Ari added.
"Yes, you're right. I'll be sure to tell him about this. Thank you again," Evelyn said as she waved.
She ran off, gripping the food tight in her hand. She almost tripped but regained her balance.
Her footsteps echoed lightly through the tunnels, leaving Ari alone once more.
Why did I even help them? Why did I go out of my way to ease their suffering? Was it guilt? Pity? Or maybe... something else?
Even though I still think ants are pests, I can't deny they have their own lives, families, and emotions in this world. They aren't like the ones I knew back on Earth. What am I even doing anymore?
Later that day, Draven summoned one of the wardens to his chamber. The room was quiet, the walls smooth-packed dirt reinforced with hardened resin. The desk before him was a solid slab of resin, wood, and stone, polished to a dull sheen. Draven stood behind it, antennae rigid, posture perfect.
The warden approached, stopping a few body lengths away. He raised his hand in salute, antennae flicking in acknowledgment.
"You filed an incomplete tally for the day," Draven said, voice leveled. "Explain."
The warden shifted uneasily. "One of the elders in the work detail collapsed, sir. He couldn't finish the last of his quota."
Draven's eyes narrowed, though his tone remained calm. "And yet you submitted the shift as completed."
"Yes, Chief. One of the prisoners intervened. He claimed he would take over the old ant's duties so that the elder could rest and remain productive tomorrow."
Draven was silent for a long moment. Then, his voice cut through the chamber. "The prisoner's name?"
The warden swallowed. "The prisoner's name… was Ari."
Draven's gaze lingered on the warden for a moment longer. Then, with a single, deliberate nod, he said, "Very well. Ensure it is recorded correctly. His actions are noted. That will be all."
The warden saluted once more, antennae quivering slightly, and turned to leave. Draven remained standing, rigid, the faint hum of the colony outside the chamber barely reaching his focus.
That ant... he is the same one that Lieutenant Valeria brought in...
For the briefest moment, something like approval flickered in his eyes before they returned to their usual calm.