Arthur didn't move right away. He took a moment, letting the situation settle instead of rushing into it. Normally, he would have stepped forward, tested the enemy, learned through action. That method had always worked—until distance became a factor. When something stood too far beyond immediate reach, his usual instincts lost their edge.
This time was different.
So he stayed still, watching.
The ant continued its work like a machine, hauling rocks without pause. There was no wasted movement, no hesitation—only the same repetitive, efficient actions, over and over again. It didn't feel alive in the way creatures should. It simply functioned.
Arthur shifted slightly, adjusting his stance as he observed. His eyes didn't leave the creature.
"The rest of them, they're not like you."
The husky hadn't left his side. It had followed him the entire way, close enough now that he didn't need to look to know it was there. He could feel its presence—steady, grounded.
Strangely, that presence helped more than he expected.
Arthur crouched low, picking up a small stone before tossing it away from himself. The sound it made was faint, almost weightless, barely echoing through the cave.
The ant reacted instantly.
Its head snapped toward the noise with unnatural speed, too sharp, too precise to feel natural. For a brief moment, it moved toward the source, pausing to inspect the area before returning to its task as if nothing had happened.
Arthur exhaled slowly.
"So that won't work."
Distractions weren't going to help him here.
He rolled his shoulders, loosening his body as he prepared to move. That strange internal correction inside him was still there—but now it felt sharper, more insistent, like it was trying to guide him even before he acted.
His gaze shifted between the ant and the terrain beneath his feet.
Loose stones scattered across uneven ground, small ridges and dips making every step slightly unstable. It wasn't dangerous, not really—but it was enough to matter. Enough to punish a mistake.
Arthur studied it for a second longer, then spoke a single word.
"Fine."
Arthur took a step forward.
The ant noticed him on the second.
It paused, then turned.
Arthur didn't rush. He moved slowly, deliberately, every step controlled. The ant answered in kind, advancing after a brief delay, closing the distance in measured strides. Five steps. That was all it took before it committed.
Then it moved.
Silent. No scrape, no warning.
Arthur shifted just as the limb came down.
It slammed into the spot where he'd been a heartbeat ago, cracking the ground on impact. Stone splintered under the force.
Arthur blinked once.
That would've crushed him.
The second strike came faster.
He stepped in instead of back.
The attack missed him by a breath, close enough that he felt the air split against his skin as it passed.
"I'm not doing that again," he muttered.
The husky moved.
Arthur caught it in his peripheral vision—faster than before, faster than he'd seen it move at any point so far. It lunged straight for the joint, teeth clamping down with enough force to disrupt the connection.
The ant reacted instantly, its focus snapping toward the dog.
Arthur didn't hesitate.
He stepped in.
Not back—forward.
His body moved on instinct, closing the distance as he brought his hand down toward the same joint. This time, he aimed wider, adjusting from his earlier attempt, trying to compensate for what he'd learned.
He struck.
And immediately knew it wasn't enough.
The shell held.
The impact shot back up his arm, jarring his bones. Before he could recover, the ant twisted violently, its body whipping around and forcing him off balance.
Arthur pushed away—
just as another strike crashed down where he'd been.
They stopped for a short moment.
Arthur extended his hands through his fingers.
"That way of doing it is incorrect." He directed his gaze toward the location where he struck. The location contained a crack. The crack appeared as a small defect which people would overlook yet it existed.
His lips developed a slight movement.
"You have the ability to break things."
The ant launched another attack.
Arthur made his move before anyone else could, rolling to his left side.
He began to create a circle around his opponent which made them turn to him instead of attacking directly.
The process of moving to different locations served as his method of controlling his position.
The ant followed.
'Of course it did.' He sighed at this, before analyzing the giant ant once more.
The husky remained by his side while the dog made adjustments to his behavior without running toward others.
The dog showed recognition but did not try to approach him. Arthur saw this. But he chose to remain silent.
Maybe it was the start of a budding friendship, but theres was a more immediate problem to deal with.