Dust swirled with each heavy step Hopper took. The battlefield trembled beneath his weight, his looming form blotting out the sun above like an omen of death. Anastasia stood panting, sweat dripping into her eyes, her vision hazy. Her mandibles trembled in her grip, dulled by the relentless barrage she'd endured. Bruises, cracks, and bloodied scrapes covered her body like a mosaic of pain.
And still—she stood.
"Not yet," she muttered under her breath, staggering to her feet for the fourth time. Her knees buckled, but she planted one foot forward, pushing against the pounding in her skull and the burning in her chest.
Hopper sneered. "You ants are amusing. So full of pride. So desperate to prove you matter. But in the end, you're just dust under my heel."
He struck again—swift, brutal. His massive fists crashed down in a crisscrossing blur. Anastasia tried to block, barely managing to deflect one before the second slammed into her side. She was launched backward, smashing into a boulder. Stone cracked. So did something in her ribs.
"Commander Anastasia!" Tanya cried out, bound in the cage made of wood and thorns Hopper's men had placed her in. Her voice was raw from screaming, her emerald eyes brimming with helpless tears. "This is all my fault," Tanya choked out, her voice trembling. "Anastasia is going to die because of me... Please... stop hurting her! Stop... please!"
Anastasia coughed violently, blood staining the corner of her lips. She pulled herself up again, gripping her mandibles tighter. Her hands were shaking, but her heart burned. She looked back at Tanya—and smiled, weak but full of resolve.
"Don't worry, Princess. I'm not done yet."
She rushed forward again, each step a scream of agony. Hopper didn't flinch. He met her charge head-on. Her blades clashed with his fists in a flurry—her attacks desperate, his deliberate. Every time she aimed for his limbs, he hammered her abdomen with his fists. Every time she lunged for his eyes, he caught her with the back of his hand and hurled her back down.
Still—she rose again.
And again.
And again.
Until she saw it. A glimmer. A faint, pale scar running across Hopper's chest. The moment he overextended during his last blow, she twisted in midair and slashed at it.
A faint line of blood seeped out.
Hopper paused.
He looked down at the cut, touched it... and chuckled.
"That mark… your father gave it to me," he said with a venomous grin. "He was actually pushing me into a corner, but he let his guard down worrying about another ant. So I pierced his body with all my mandibles—tore him apart. He was a proud, foolish ant, just like you. Seems you've inherited both his courage… and his stupidity."
His fist came crashing down again, smashing Anastasia into the dirt. Her head throbbed. Her body screamed. Darkness crawled in from the edges of her vision.
"Anastasia!" Tanya sobbed. Her voice cracked. "Please… someone, anyone...!"
She broke into full sobs, her voice echoing through the canyon like a dagger in the wind. She squeezed her eyes shut, trembling, helpless.
And then—
"Ari... please save her!!"
The cry tore through the battlefield like a lightning strike.
Anastasia, barely clinging to consciousness, heard it.
So did Hopper, who chuckled again, low and menacing. "Looks like your precious princess is calling for someone who doesn't exist."
Anastasia's lips parted. Her breath was faint. "Crap… Looks like this is… the end for me... please everyone... protect the colony…"
Her voice blurred into delirious mutters as her strength faded.
As Hopper raised both fists above her—ready to finish it—a shadow moved. A blur of speed. Something—or someone—caught her just before the crushing blow came down.
She blinked.
"A-Anastasia! Wake up!"
A voice. Familiar. Warm. Sharp. Annoying.
A flask of bitter liquid poured between her lips. She gagged and coughed violently, jolting awake as her body surged with strange, tingling energy.
"What the hell was that?! Are you trying to kill me?!" she yelled, dazed, throwing a shaky punch that landed right on the figure's cheek.
"Ouch! Hey, that hurt!" Ari said, rubbing his face with a half-annoyed grin.
"A-Ari… you're alive?" Anastasia blinked again, eyes wide.
He smiled down at her. "Of course it's me. You should be more worried about yourself, though. I'm surprised. You were worried about me?"
"L-Like hell I was!" she snapped, looking away with a fierce blush masked by her scowl. "I wouldn't even flinch if you got cut down."
Ari laughed. "Sure you wouldn't. Still… I'm glad you're okay, Commander."
She froze at the word. Her heart fluttered—annoyed at itself.
"What was in that flask? I suddenly don't feel pain anymore."
"A little concoction I made. Herbs and roots. I'll teach you the recipe later… assuming we survive this," he said, turning his eyes to the dark figure approaching them.
"Well now… you're a fast one," Hopper said.
"Ari!!" Tanya cried, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You really came… You came to rescue me!"
"I made a promise, didn't I?" Ari said gently, his voice softening. "That I would protect you. No matter what."
Hopper's smirk deepened. "I remember you now," he said, voice low and laced with venom. "You're that insignificant ant who learned respect the hard way. The one who got us all in this mess. If only you'd stayed in line like the obedient puppet you were, none of this would've happened."
Ari stepped forward.
"You're right," he said calmly. "Back then… you were stronger than me. I was weak. But I've changed. I've gotten stronger."
"And I came here with one goal: to save Princess Tanya. If you're the only one standing in the way… then I'll rip you to shreds."
Hopper's laugh echoed through the field like thunder. "You think you're a match for me?! You ants are insects in every sense—weak, pathetic, barely alive! You're destined for nothing but death… by the hands of a superior species."
Ari's expression didn't waver.
"No. You're the ones who are weak. You just don't get it, do you?"
He raised his voice, standing tall.
"You grasshoppers laze around and wait for winter to come. Then you crawl out and take everything we've worked so hard for. We're the ones who pick the food. Who haul it. Who survive the blazing sun and the freezing cold. You think it's yours? It never was. We provided for you even when we were starving. We carried you. But now—now you will pay for every drop of blood you've spilled. Your tyranny ends today!"
Hopper's eyes narrowed. "You insolent fool. You will pay with your life for those words."
Anastasia, now on her feet, stepped beside Ari. "Listen… thank you for helping me recover. But I want you to sit this one out."
He raised a brow. "What?"
"Hopper's far stronger than anything you've faced before. If you slip up once… it'll be the death of you. And I… I can't allow that."
Ari smirked. "I wouldn't have come if I thought I couldn't win. I'm strong enough to fight beside you. And if you don't believe me—then let me say this."
He turned to her, eyes shining.
"After I left the colony, I trained nonstop for days—pushing myself harder than ever—because I knew if I wasn't stronger, I'd lose again. I wasn't going to let that happen. And it paid off. I defeated one of Hopper's generals. I defeated Sly with my own two mandibles."
Her eyes widened in shock.
Even Hopper froze for a moment.
"You…? You defeated Sly?" the grasshopper lord growled. Then, with a slow, deliberate gesture, he reached behind his back and drew out his four mandibles. Their wicked edges glinted in the light.
"Then this might be fun after all…"
He raised all four of his mandibles, their edges crackling with tension.
Ari drew his own. "Come on, Commander. Just follow my lead. Let's finish this… and go home."
"Don't patronize me," Anastasia muttered, flushing, and slugged him in the gut.
He winced. "Shouldn't you be focusing on the enemy?"
With no more words between them, they lunged—side by side—toward Hopper.
Their blades met the tyrant's in a thunderous clash. Hopper laughed as he blocked them both with ease, but his eyes narrowed. For the first time—he was being pushed back.
Only slightly. Only just.
But it was a start.
Together, they fought as one.
And the tide—at last—began to shift.