At the highest point of the grasshopper fortress, shrouded in darkness and the soft flicker of torchlight, Hopper sat motionless on his massive throne. Carved from rough stone, it loomed like a monument to tyranny. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and deliberate.
But that calm shattered in an instant.
With an earsplitting roar, Hopper's arm whipped forward. His massive hand slammed against the throne's armrest, shattering it to rubble. Cracks raced across the throne's base before the entire structure collapsed beneath him, crumbling into a heap of dust and debris.
The impact echoed throughout the fortress.
In a nearby corner of the throne room, Princess Tanya jolted awake with a gasp. She had cried herself to sleep within a cage of twisted wood and thorny vines, her cheeks still damp and raw. The violent tremor made the cage rattle violently, and the thorns bit into her arms as she clutched the bars in fear.
She looked toward the center of the room.
There stood Hopper—hulking, snarling, and consumed by fury. His yellow eyes blazed as he stared into the debris, his breath heaving like that of a monster denied its prey.
"So first Denzil… then Gianna… and now Sly," he growled, voice low and venomous. "How utterly useless. All of my generals… defeated. By ants. Mere ants."
He clenched his fists until the joints cracked. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he forced himself to calm, glancing over his shoulder at the princess.
Tanya shrank back.
Her eyes met his—and she froze.
Hopper straightened, brushing stone dust from his shoulders. He strode toward her cage, each step sending tremors through the floor.
"Looks like your colony's soldiers are much stronger than I thought," he said with a mocking tone. "Far stronger than they were ten years ago."
Tanya said nothing, her breath caught in her throat. But in her chest, a flicker of hope stirred.
He noticed.
"The ants have the advantage in this invasion… so far," he said, raising a brow. "But don't celebrate yet."
That flicker of hope flared just a little brighter. She dared to believe—maybe, just maybe, her people had a chance.
Then Hopper's smirk returned.
"Because the only thing standing between their victory… and your salvation… is me."
His voice was like a blade.
"I'll slaughter every last one of them," he continued, voice rising, "and I'll do it right in front of you. Then, once you've seen them bleed… I'll march into your colony and finish the job. I'll turn your homeland into ash."
The hope vanished from her eyes. Shattered like glass.
Then a voice echoed through the chamber.
"If you want to lay a hand on anyone from my colony… then you'll have to go through me first."
Hopper turned.
From the shadows of the corridor, Commander Anastasia emerged. Bloodied. Bruised. Her right shoulder hung slightly lower than her left. One leg dragged slightly behind her. Her breathing was strained, but her gaze was sharp, unwavering.
She stepped forward, mandibles gripped tightly in both hands. The mandibles shine dulled by blood and dust, but they gleamed with unrelenting purpose.
"Commander Anastasia," Hopper said, raising a brow. "You, of all people? I didn't expect such foolishness from someone like you."
"I was a fool once," she said, her voice hoarse but resolute. "I feared you. I followed you without question during those brutal winters. I believed your strength made you invincible."
She took another step, and the light caught the blood on her face.
"But now I know better. The humiliation I endured… the pain you caused me and my people… I carried it all in silence. Every time I saw you, I was reminded of my own weakness. My father's death. My failure."
She raised her mandibles.
"But that ends today. I'm here to end this—and to set Princess Tanya free."
Tanya's hands flew to her mouth, tears returning to her eyes. "Anastasia…"
Hopper laughed.
It wasn't a chuckle. It was a full-throated, monstrous roar of laughter.
"You? You think you can defeat me?" he said, eyes glinting with amusement. "Your father was a captain, and he tried—and failed. What chance do you think you have?"
He looked her over from head to toe. "You can barely stand. You were injured by regular soldiers. What hope do you have against me.
"Viser," Anastasia said, with quiet rage. "But he's gone now. He paid the price."
Hopper's expression shifted slightly. "You killed Viser?"
She nodded.
"Hmph," he muttered. "Not bad."
He took one step forward, rolling his neck.
"Then I suppose I'll begin with you."
Anastasia didn't wait.
She rushed him, mandibles raised. With a cry that echoed with every bitter memory she carried, she slashed at Hopper's chest.
Clang.
Her blades struck true—but didn't leave so much as a scratch.
Hopper didn't move an inch.
He looked down at her calmly. "Is that it?"
She stepped back instinctively.
He struck.
A massive fist came crashing toward her. She ducked and rolled to the side, but not fast enough—his knuckles grazed her shoulder and sent her spinning.
Before she could recover, he lunged forward and slammed his knee into her stomach. She coughed violently, staggering back. She barely had time to raise her mandibles before another blow came—a hammering fist to the side of her face.
She crashed to the ground, dust rising around her.
Hopper gave her no reprieve.
He grabbed her by the arm and flung her across the chamber like a ragdoll. Her back slammed against a pillar. It cracked on impact, and she collapsed to her knees, coughing blood.
"This isn't even the first time you tried to fight me," Hopper said, approaching slowly. "Four years ago. You were still a recruit. I came for my share of the harvest—and you tried to stop me."
He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground.
"Back then, you failed miserably. And nothing has changed. All you did was learn the harsh truth that you were weak"
He slammed her into the floor. Dust exploded from the impact. She groaned but didn't cry out.
Hopper stepped on her back.
"No matter how many ranks you've climbed, how many battles you've fought… you'll always be weak. Just like your father."
He leaned in, pressing his weight down.
"Do you really think your willpower can overcome me?"
Anastasia winced, biting back a scream. Her body screamed in pain—but deep in her chest, something still burned. Something stronger than pain. Stronger than fear.
She clenched her jaw and grabbed one of her fallen mandibles. With a sudden twist, she rolled out from under his foot and slashed upward.
This time, the blade scraped against his leg.
A faint line. A thin crack.
Anastasia panted, rising to one knee.
"I may not be stronger than you," she said through gritted teeth, "but I'm not afraid anymore."
Hopper's eyes narrowed. "Then die without fear."
He lunged again.
She raised both mandibles to block—but his fist crashed down and broke her guard. The force slammed her head-first into the floor, leaving a crater. Her body twitched, but she refused to stay down.
Tanya screamed, clutching the bars of her cage.
"Anastasia! Stop—please!"
But Anastasia pulled herself up once more. Blood dripping from her mouth. Legs shaking.
She pointed her mandibles at Hopper as she staggered backwards hand trembling.
"As long as I can move… as long as I breathe… I'll keep standing. Even if I fall a thousand times. I'll stand. Again. And again."
Hopper's expression twisted.
For the first time, there was no smirk.
Only rage.
He charged—this time with intent to kill.