A few hours ago.

  The vivarium walls buzzed like bees, spawning a grayish blue mist that spread around the land. As the mist approached, the colorful plants swayed in joy, while some recoiled in a startle.

  Beneath the foliage, the kingdom of soil critters lay in their burrows or under dry leaves. Most lay still, awaiting the mist's departure.

  But not all.

  Carrying its bravery, a giant cockroach, about five inches long, sped toward the nearest vine with heart-shaped leaves. The color of each leaf transitioned from green to red as it neared the center, creating a shape. From above, it looked like red hearts drawn at the center of each leaf.

  Less than a blink of an eye, and the cockroach cozied up under the plant.

  Using its barbed, hind legs, it scratched the underside of a leaf. Then, it stood still, keeping a watchful eye for any predators or delicious snacks.

  On the other hand, bleeding from the scratch, the leaf drooped down. Soon, its edges touched the ground, enclosing the roach and bringing it darkness. However, having done this before, the cockroach sat still.

  After this, it expected another burst of growth… as well as hunger.

  Silence once more reigned in the vivarium, an eerie tranquility picturing the land. No insect could be seen crawling about, neither were there any frogs, lizards, or the occasional snakes. The waters were still, the creatures within were hiding in caves or in between aquatic plants.

  The only moving entity was the mist, which was thick in one second, and thin in the next.

  As the vivarium was blanketed in grayish blue, everything froze, peace kissing the land. But then, the mist dispersed in an instant, and the vivarium roared back to life!

  Fire ants bolted all over the place, their mandibles opened wide and their stingers held high. Everything they came across, whether it'd be a small mite or a large mantis, they'd attack, sparing none from their frenzy!

  The soil critters panicked, migrating from the eastern gravel field of the vivarium to the southern wetlands. They carpeted the floor, the crawling of their legs sounding like the squelching of a butcher's hands inside the guts of a freshly cut open pig.

  Then, a bright light shone on the vivarium, making everything inside slow down.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The creator of their home entered, donning his mechanical armor. After Chief placed a test tube inside the tank, he turned around to leave, his departure swift like his entrance.

  On that day, a storm began brewing under the calm waters.

  +++-+++-+++

  Present time.

  Seeing the bright red ants for the first time, the spawns stood back-to-back, bolstering their defense and staying alert.

  Those red ants, 6 millimeters in length, smaller than even them, reeked of danger.

  Unwilling to engage in combat, the thirty spawns began clacking their mandibles one after the other, trying to scare the ants. However, the ants weren't fooled.

  Knowing that the advantage lay in their hands, the ants kept a close eye on the spawns, surrounding them with sheer numbers. The spawns were an easy meal, and they weren't about to let them slip through.

  Surrounded, but unwilling to give in, the spawns drummed their mandibles, with the ants following suit. Before long, the area sounded as though rain was pouring down, audible to humans if there were any nearby.

  The ants, hundreds strong, slowly tightened their encirclement. The spawns moved forward in an attempt to thwart the ants’ plan…

  But all it did was spark the flames of war between the two sentient colonies.

  +++-+++-+++

  With their numbers, it was impossible for the red ants to lose. If they did, then their queen would surely kill herself in shame!

  Picking up their spoils of war and meal for the day, the ants marched back to their nest. On the way, they never forgot to kill every prey they encountered.

  Unbeknownst to them, someone had watched them, from beginning to the end.

  Helzar saw it all—He saw how the ants stung his spawns, and how they melted into blue goo after being stung. He saw how the ants tore apart his spawns, while his spawns couldn't even cut the smaller ants’ exoskeletons.

  ‘What kind of witchcraft nonsense is this?!’ He cursed, hurriedly using his telepathic link with the rest of the spawns outside.

  He ordered them to return without being followed. If they were spotted, then they must kill any and all witnesses—it was better to die fighting. Otherwise, what would happen if the ants manage to locate him?

  He didn't even need to guess, the answer was written in bold letters. He'd die.

  ‘I didn't expect them to be so far away,’ he severed the telepathic link, feeling a minor headache. ‘Doing that took a lot of energy,’ he lamented, feeling a little hungry.

  Yet, before he could even eat, his mouth was already bitter. Of course, he'd rather savor the bitterness than be killed—carelessness had a price.

  ‘I should've known those humans wouldn't place me in a normal environment,’ he felt a little like a fool.

  ‘If my guess isn't wrong, then this garden should've been tampered in some way. Just look, those ants are ridiculous!’ Helzar clacked his mandibles, almost cutting a spawn nearby.

  The spawn was tasked with protecting him, but seeing Helzar clacking his mandibles, it unblinkingly offered itself to be eaten. Not that it could blink anyway.

  Helzar pushed the Spawn aside. He already lost thirty, he didn't want to lose one more.

  ‘I have yet to start fixing the eaters, and I already have to deal with a nasty neighbor and a food shortage,’ he sighed.

  The swarm wasn't starving, they could easily survive in this environment unless disaster strikes. An ant raid, for example.

  ‘I need to start hoarding food in case of an emergency. Eaters could solve the storage problem, if I can fix them that is.’

  Producing Eaters costs five spawns worth of energy. After killing them, they'd return four spawns worth of energy. If they didn't self-destruct after their first meal, however, then they could act like jars.

  Much like how honeypot ants hoard food in their stomachs.

  As for himself, he could store a hundred spawns' worth of energy in his body, but he was no black hole. Not only that, he needed a high amount of energy to exist. At minimum, he was now spending five spawns worth of energy daily.

  ‘Another issue would be the nest itself. It can produce a hundred spawns a day, but no more than that,’ his head spun in circles, and he nearly fell limp on the floor.

  ‘Thinking about it, maybe I should focus on upgrading the nest rather than fixing the issue with the eaters?’ he thought about it, before deciding that the idea was sound.

  When the spawns outside returned to the nest, there were barely a total of a hundred spawns left. Unfazed, he sent fifty spawns to hunt for more prey, with the order of avoiding contact with any ant.

  After doing so, he had the remaining spawns protect their home, before trying to upgrade the nest.

  The result was himself cursing his luck even more.