Queen of the Swarm

The ground pulsed.

A steady, rhythmic thudding underfoot, it was faint, but growing stronger, which matched the beat of Darin's hammering heart as he sprinted through the chaos of the battlefield.

Dust and acidic smoke hung low over the land like a choking fog. Screeches and clangs rang across the treeline. Glimpses of cultists impaling drones with otherworldly force, Stage Two knights dashing between firewalls, and Grumble launching out of a tunnel with an ant spine in his mouth flashed in Darin's peripheral vision as he led the charge westward.

They were pushing through, bit by bloodied bit.

A small miracle.

He ducked under a swinging mandible, swung wide with his warhammer, and knocked a scout ant flying through the air like a croquet ball.

"Ha!" he barked. "I think I'm getting the hang of th—"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," came the familiar dry voice in his head.