Cris thought he could finally relax once the workday was over. He trudged out of the office, tie askew, a coffee stain on his sleeve, and the faint buzzing of ant voices still ricocheting around in his skull.
"Finally," he muttered as he walked down the busy street. "No more reports, no more managers breathing down my neck. Just me, instant noodles, and maybe three hours of sleep."
"King must remain vigilant. Dangers persist beyond workplace walls."
"Shut it," Cris hissed under his breath, dodging pedestrians. "If danger shows up, I'll just sic you guys on it like last night. Done deal."
But the ants grew strangely quiet after that. Too quiet.
Cris noticed it first in the way the air felt heavier, like the city itself was holding its breath. Neon lights flickered above convenience stores. A group of kids who'd normally be blasting music from a speaker passed in silence. Even the traffic seemed thinner than usual.
"Enemy scent… detected."
Cris froze mid-step. "Wait, wait, what enemy? I don't see anything."
The ants didn't answer directly, but a mental image flashed through his mind ,a ripple in the air, like distorted heat haze, shifting through the crowd ahead. Nobody else noticed it. People walked past as though it wasn't there.
His stomach dropped. "You've got to be kidding me."
The haze shimmered, then condensed into something humanoid. A tall figure draped in a dark, metallic cloak. Its face was hidden beneath a smooth mask, featureless except for a faint blue glow where eyes should have been.
Cris ducked into the shadow of a vending machine, whispering furiously. "What the hell is that?! Don't tell me that's another bug."
"Not insect. Hunter. Smell of queen's relic clings to host. They pursue fragment."
"You mean me?! They're here for me?!"
The ants' silence was answer enough.
The figure scanned the street, its glowing eyes sweeping like a spotlight. A pulse of energy rippled outward, passing through bodies like invisible sonar. People shivered as though caught in a sudden chill, but kept walking, unaware.
The pulse hit Cris. His chest flared the fragment inside him pulsed with white light.
The figure snapped its head toward his hiding spot.
"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!" Cris bolted, sprinting down the sidewalk, shoving past confused pedestrians.
"Retreat cowardly. Stand and fight."
"Fight?!" Cris wheezed, vaulting over a trash can. "That thing looks like it eats cowards like me for breakfast!"
The ants buzzed furiously.
"Our power flows through host. Summon. Command. Fight."
Cris didn't know how to "summon" anything, but his body reacted anyway. His palm burned, and in an instant, white crystalline threads erupted from his skin, weaving into a jagged blade like frozen sugar. He nearly tripped staring at it.
"Woah… I have a sword?! No one told me about a sword!"
The hunter landed in front of him, cutting off his escape. The cloak whipped as though caught in a storm, and a blade of its own materialized sleek, metallic, and humming with blue energy.
The ants braced in unison, their thoughts pressing into Cris's skull.
"Test of king begins."
The hunter lunged.
Cris screamed, swung wildly, and managed to deflect the strike with a loud crack. Sparks scattered across the pavement. The sheer force rattled his bones, but his blade didn't shatter. It held.
He blinked, stunned. "Wait… I actually blocked that?!"
The ants buzzed triumphantly.
"Relic protects host. But skill… lacking."
"Gee, thanks for the pep talk!" Cris yelled as he stumbled backward, narrowly dodging a second strike.
The fight spilled into a back alley, neon signs flickering overhead. Each swing of the hunter's blade left glowing blue scars on the walls. Cris swung desperately, his blade clumsy but fueled by adrenaline.
Finally, in a moment of pure panic, he thrust the sword forward and it extended. Crystalline threads shot out like a whip, lashing the hunter across the chest. Sparks exploded, knocking it back a step.
Cris gasped. "Did I just… win?"
The hunter tilted its head, studying him. Then, without a sound, it dissolved into haze again, fading into the night.
Cris collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving. His blade melted away into glowing dust.
The ants spoke solemnly.
"They know host lives. More will come."
Cris buried his face in his hands. "Great. Just what I needed. Assassins. As if my life wasn't already garbage."
The ants' voices thrummed with grim certainty.
"Garbage life… now life of king."