The shattered spire lay in ruin, but the scent of ozone and fungus still lingered in the clearing. Cinder-ant felt it in her antennae—a warning not yet spoken.
Glowmoth hovered silently, his wings dimmer than usual. Buzzlock paced, sensors twitching. Lady Web spun a protective web ring, just in case Scarablade’s allies returned.
But it wasn’t the enemy who struck first.
From behind, a blinding flash erupted—Glowmoth, wings flared wide, unleashed a disorienting burst of light. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, as Cinder-ant reeled.
Before she could recover, he vanished into the canopy, leaving behind only a scorched sigil: the mark of Scarablade.
“Traitor,” hissed Lady Web, rushing to Cinder-ant’s side.
“No…” Cinder-ant breathed, her vision clearing. “He’s not Scarablade. He’s… afraid.”
Buzzlock, scanning the heat trail above, confirmed it. “He flew toward the Wasp Warrens.”
Lady Web’s mandibles tightened. “Then he’s delivering our position.”
Cinder-ant stood, fury steadying her. “Or he’s trying to protect us… in the only way he knows.”
The team was shaken, but not broken. The betrayal—or sacrifice—of Glowmoth would not stop them. Only one truth mattered now:
Scarablade was gathering more than allies. He was building a swarm.
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