The mountain rose before them like an immovable block, irregular, eroded by centuries of excavation. From its open cracks escaped a dense, acrid smell, heavy with humidity and acid.
Even before entering, Liora felt it—not with her body, but with her mind. The ground vibrated. Not enough to alarm her, but enough to confirm something unsettling: this place was alive and alert.
Rylan moved first, just as they had agreed. He showed no tension, but the way he stepped was different. His hands hovered near where, at any moment, the invisible hilts of his swords could materialize.
Behind him were Liora and Jhon. Liora examined the walls as if they were an unsolved math problem: grooves, inclinations, fragments of chitin embedded in the rock.
Jhon, meanwhile, rested his rifle with ease, but his eyes never stopped moving, leaping from shadow to shadow.
Emma brought up the rear. Her steps were slow, deliberate, but steady. Not from fatigue—she was restraining herself. They had agreed not to transform unless absolutely necessary. Ether was a resource, not something to waste at the start.
Adrian was already gone. He had claimed his reward and left. Liora understood his choice—and agreed with it.
The first tunnel was wide, almost round, like a throat of stone polished by the continuous passage of massive bodies. The walls bore parallel grooves, ancient scars from jaws and legs. The odor intensified.
Emma broke the silence.
"Guys… how do you think Marcus is doing?"
Liora answered after thinking for a second.
"Pretty well, probably. Marcus isn't just incredibly skilled in hand-to-hand combat—which is impressive considering how little time he's been training—he's also very intelligent and adapts quickly to any situation."
Rylan crossed his arms, frowning.
"He is, I won't deny it… but that's not enough if Marcus wants to get the egg—or even survive all of this. He lacks experience, knowledge… and a lot of things you can't gain in just three weeks of training."
Liora smiled slightly, tilting her head.
"I wouldn't be so sure, dear brother."
Rylan looked at her, confused, raising an eyebrow.
"What do you mean, 'not sure'?"
"Listen," Liora said, pausing to let her words sink in. "Do you know what Professor Victor told me in one of his post-class talks?"
Rylan opened his mouth, but stopped. Liora let a few seconds of silence hang in the air, letting the tension build.
"About a month ago, during Marcus' special training with Kara…" Liora paused, letting the words linger. "Kara was so impressed by his speed of learning and discipline that she decided to put him through a special test."
Jhon narrowed his eyes, tilting his head.
"A special test? Wait… what kind of test?"
Liora nodded, enjoying the suspense.
"She chose to send a Sableon—a mid-level Lurker—after Marcus… a Transformer with barely three weeks of training. Kara supervised from a distance, watching every move. The idea was for Marcus to experience first-hand what a life-or-death encounter with a monster feels like."
Everyone was so surprised that didn't talk for a few seconds.
Jhon whistled softly.
"That's… some crazy idea. I hope I never run into Kara."
Liora smiled.
"Yes… that's exactly what I thought too. But listen to this… Marcus didn't just pass the test. He exceeded it. After a long, violent confrontation, he adapted, analyzed the situation, and devised a strategy to win. In the end, against all odds, he used a grappling technique nobody expected and managed to subdue the Sableon."
Rylan stopped in his tracks, biting his lower lip.
"Are you sure about that?" His voice sounded unusually hesitant. "I mean… it's hard to believe a Transformer with so little training could pull something like that off."
"Yes," Liora replied calmly, resting a hand on her hip. "I confirmed it. I asked several reliable sources, and they all said the same thing. It's not a rumor—it's real."
Jhon raised an eyebrow and muttered under his breath.
"That Marcus… that kid's serious, huh."
"Very serious," Liora added. "In short, Marcus Grayson defeated a mid-level Lurker with only three weeks of preparation. Probably one of the greatest feats ever accomplished by a spontaneous Transformer. We shouldn't underestimate him; even if he's going solo in the event, that kid is special."
"Damn right he is," Jhon remarked.
Liora let the information sink in for the group, then led the way forward.
Rylan slowed his pace. Then, a shadow moved at the far end.
There was no warning.
The swords appeared in a flash of clean white light. The ant—the size of a large dog—shot out from a side tunnel, jaws open. They never had the chance to close. Rylan spun on his heel and sliced it in two with a simple, precise motion. The body hit the stone with a wet sound. The yellowish fluid spilled over the rock, steaming.
Liora crouched near the corpse without touching it. She observed the thickness of the shell, the structure of the legs, the residual tension of the muscles.
—It wasn't a scout —she murmured—. Too developed… and too high up.
Jhon tilted his head, uneasy.
—So they've been sensing us for a while.
He looked at the floor, then at the walls.
—Then… how did they locate us so quickly?
Liora pressed two fingers against the rock and closed her eyes for a second.
—Vibrations —she replied—. They don't walk; they sense. These ants live in dark caves, where sight is useless. As a result, they've developed an extraordinary sense of vibration. Every movement, every pulse of ether travels through the structure of the anthill; to them, we are a constant tremor moving downhill.
Jhon clicked his tongue.
—So it doesn't matter how quietly we try to move.
—Exactly —Liora said, standing up—. Since we entered, they've known exactly where we are.
Rylan didn't wait. He was already moving again.
They continued descending. The tunnel forked every few meters, always downward. Liora began counting steps without realizing it, measuring slopes, memorizing turns. She didn't speak aloud, but she was building a mental map.
—This isn't chaos —she finally said—. It's spiraled.
Emma looked up.
—And what does that mean?
—Everything converges —Liora answered—. Center, intermediate chambers… transit zones. If we keep descending here, we either reach the core… or a zone designed to kill us.
—Great —muttered Jhon—. Two brilliant options.
They didn't have to wait long to find out.
The ground vibrated. Not like before. Stronger. Denser.
Rylan raised his hand.
From the ceiling, ants fell. Not one or two. Several. Bodies crashing against the stone, jaws open as they hit.
Rylan cut down three before they touched the ground.
Jhon fired almost simultaneously. Three bullets pierced shells and pinned them to the wall.
Emma grabbed one by the mandibles and slammed it against the rock with force.
Liora reacted late—or so it seemed. An ant leapt from a blind angle. The impact against her blue bubble rang like a hammer. The barrier held but cracked.
Liora dissolved it immediately and launched a second bubble, red, more compact. The explosion was short, sharp. Where the creature had been lay a dark puddle.
They advanced for minutes through similar skirmishes. Always the same pattern: noise, shadows, frontal or overhead attack. And always the same afterward: an easy victory for them.
But in a narrower stretch, something different happened. After finishing off the last three large ants, they didn't stay still as before. Two of them paused briefly, as if evaluating the terrain, then retreated, running down a side tunnel, disappearing into darkness. The reaction was so unexpected that the group paused, holding their breath, watching the retreat with furrowed brows.
Liora crouched, observing the creatures' movement, her eyes gleaming with understanding. It wasn't instinct driving them. These ants barely had consciousness; they obeyed orders. And the fact that they retreated down a specific tunnel wasn't coincidental: someone had sent them. Her mind immediately pieced it together.
—Guys —she said, low and urgent, teeth clenched—, in the next fight, don't kill them all. Just capture one. We need it to guide us.
In the next encounter, they left another ant alive. Liora, without hesitation, devised the strategy to make the most of the situation.
—Rylan —she whispered, voice edged with cruel resolve—, cut its hind legs.
Rylan raised his blade and executed the order without hesitation.
With a precise movement, he severed the ant's hind legs, leaving it injured but still conscious. The creature screamed, trying to push forward, and began dragging itself awkwardly through the tunnel.
—Perfect —Liora murmured—. Keep your eyes on it. Every zigzag, every pause tells us something.
The wounded ant moved ahead, guiding the group through narrow, descending corridors. Its movements revealed the hierarchy of the anthill, the routes the queen considered safe, and the patrol zones of other units.
Liora walked behind, observing carefully. Every decision of the injured ant confirmed her deduction: the egg was close, and the path was being signaled directly by the queen's intent. There was no other explanation. Every charge, every rearrangement of the lines, every diversion of retreat obeyed a master plan.
—Stay alert —Liora whispered—. This isn't over. Every step brings us closer, but it also exposes us.