The chamber’s glow flickered as the shadow moved closer. Cinder-ant’s antennae twitched with alarm. The rival ant, clad in jagged black armor, stepped forward, his voice low and threatening.
“You think your peace will last, little one? The Dark Hive has plans for this anthill.”
Prince Myrmax stood tall, his wings shimmering in defiance. “We choose harmony, not war.”
But the rival ant sneered. “Words are weak. Strength rules these tunnels.”
Suddenly, the scout leapt forward, drawing a tiny thorn blade. “We won’t let the Dark Hive take what we’ve built!”
Cinder-ant clenched her mandibles. She wasn’t just a lost ant anymore—she was part of a family ready to defend their home.
The battle for the Upper Anthill had begun.
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