23. Vesper
VESPER
I hesitate when the guard ants lead us to a large mound of dirt and trek up it.
One of them pokes me with their spear and I glare at him before scrambling up the mound.
My boots slip in the loose dirt as I attempt to follow the leader.
The ants don’t seem to have a problem getting up it since they have an extra set of legs, but Locke and I struggle.
One of the ants behind us laughs and mumbles, “Stupid homo sapiens,” as we do our best.
At the top of the mound, I straighten and stare at the large hole in the center of it as I push my hair out of my eyes. The leader gestures for us to follow again and then disappears inside.
I glance at Locke. “I don’t know if this is a good idea or not.”
“Doesn’t seem like we have a choice,” Locke replies. “Any advice, Cipher?” Cipher says nothing. “See? No choice.”
I sigh and slowly start easing into the hole.
At first, it’s just tunnels carved into dirt.
But the deeper we go, the more intricate things start to get.
Pretty designs are carved into the dirt, small lanterns set there that light the way with soft warm glows.
We pass other ants as we go deeper, most of them dressed the same at the three ants directing us.
After we’ve been walking for what feels like an hour, we start seeing ants in different outfits, mostly a variety of dresses and trouser outfits.
The ones in trousers are covered in dirt, like they’ve spent the day digging and are only just finished.
The ones in dresses seem to be carrying strange white, bulbous .
. . bags? Containers? I don’t know what they are.
They wiggle in their arms, as if there’s something inside of it.
“This way,” the leader commands before walking through a doorway into a large cavernous room.
“Here goes nothing,” I say, stepping behind him.
BOSS BATTLE INITIATED: DIPLOMACY MATTERS
What do you call an ant who is very fancy and wears a crown? Eleg-ant! The elegant Leaf Cutter Queen rules her kingdom with an iron tarsi. Don’t worry: I am confid-ant you got this!
Note: The Leaf Cutter Queen is a diplomacy boss. Defeating her depends on you.
I tense as Cipher’s voice purrs in my mind as we walk inside the throne room. “Fuck,” I whisper as I get a good look at the new room around us.
The queen ant can’t be missed, not because she’s dressed differently, but because she’s literally massive.
She sits on a massive pile of pillows and blankets at the front of the room, lounging there as she watches us being led into the room by her guards.
Her ass is where most of the size comes from, easily five times the size of the other ants.
She has it draped on the pillows beside her, all the comfort afforded to her.
A large shiny crown sits on her head, and she wears an intricate dress that flows around her, but only partially covers her rear thorax.
She doesn’t get up to fight us. She just lies there and watches us as we step to the base of her raised dais.
Around her lounge a dozen ants, all male I assume because they’re completely naked with their strange-looking dicks in their hands. They all gently rub themselves, some of them making strange moaning sounds as they stroke the appendage.
“What the actual fuck?” Locke whispers, jerking his eyes away from the scene to focus on the queen, but he can’t help but side-eye what’s going on.
I have to agree with his sentiment. I force my eyes on the queen so I don’t look at the ant men stroking themselves where they lounge around her.
I don’t know if it’s considered rude or what the etiquette is here.
Maybe we’re supposed to ignore them. They seem to be there specifically for the queen’s entertainment, but even she doesn’t acknowledge them.
“Players,” the queen says, gesturing to us. “Step closer so I can see you properly. Speak and tell me your business.”
Her order is clear. She intends for there to be no questions.
I grab Locke’s arm and drag him closer. How does one appeal to a queen?
Since this is a boss battle, Cipher will be no help.
He isn’t able to give us information about the boss battle and he’s being strangely silent, which means what’s happening now is part of the battle itself.
The note had stated that she’s a diplomacy boss, whatever that means.
I’m going to take it as the possibility to convince her not to try and kill us.
“Good rest, Your Majesty,” I tell her, bowing my head slightly. “We don’t mean to disturb you, but your . . . guards found us in a bit of trouble and said you would like to meet us.”
“Indeed,” the queen replies, her large eyes trailing between the two of us. She focuses on Locke and studies him appreciatively. “I do enjoy meeting players.” She points at Locke. “Come closer, Player. You’re much too far.”
He looks at me and I gesture for him to go. We don’t know what the battle is yet, but it strikes me as obvious that we shouldn’t piss her off. If there’s a way to get out of here without fighting her, we need to take it. He carefully starts to pick his way up the short steps to her platform.
The moans of the male ants around her get louder and I make the mistake of glancing at the one nearest to me.
His eyes meet mine and he starts to stroke himself harder in response, as if that’s all he’d been waiting for.
Dox would be flaming red, but something about the interaction is intriguing to me.
If these were human men, I might have even been turned on, but they’re so different, so foreign, that I can’t even figure out what I am as we stare at each other.
What even is going on here? His little mandibles start to click together around his moans, and he pumps faster, his head tilting back without breaking our eye contact.
I glance between the male and the queen, wondering if I should be looking at what’s happening or look away.
The male seems to like it, at least, but I don’t want the queen to be offended that I’d looked at her entertainment.
None of the other ants are looking at them.
He throws his head back all the way, breaking eye contact as his body starts to shake.
Locke still stands in front of the queen, but they’re both looking toward the male ant I am now as his loud moans get downright vulgar.
I narrow my eyes as he nears his release, expecting this to be an awkward situation when he does.
I am not prepared.
The male reaches his orgasm, and his cock starts to spray seconds before it explodes. Literally explodes with a loud pop. One second, it’s in his hand. The next, it’s in meaty pieces all over his stomach and he’s screaming in pain.
The queen clicks in displeasure. “Another one with no discipline. Pity.” She waves her hands and guards appear. The male collapses suddenly, his eyes rolling back in his head when the scream cuts off, as if . . .
“Is he dead?” I ask, horrified.
The queen focuses on me. “Males only really have one purpose, Player. If that purpose is wasted, then they’re of no use to me.
I cannot help that their one and only release must be their last.” She leans forward and strokes a hand down Locke’s chest as she speaks, making him tense.
“Tell me, male player, do you like to be used?”
Oh. Oh!
Locke grimaces and I can see the tension on his shoulders. “Oh, um . . . I do like sex.”
My eyes widen as he attempts to not be rude, but also clearly wants out of the conversation. He left Dross to get away from something very much like this and yet . . .
The queen tilts her head. “Does your species die upon completion?”
Locke hesitates. “. . . no . . .”
Another male ant comes striding in, as naked as the others, and takes the place of the dead one that was removed. He immediately begins stroking himself and moans, but he does not look at me. He keeps his eyes firmly on the wall behind me.
The queen hums. “You are a beautiful specimen, aren’t you?” She leans around him and looks at me. “Female player, is he yours?”
I could say no. That’s the truth even if it feels strange to say.
“What is—” Locke starts.
“Quiet, male,” the queen snaps. “The females are conversing.”
Locke snaps his mouth shut and looks over at me, clearly panicked because he’s realized the same thing that I have.
The Leaf Cutter Queen wants him. And clearly, males have no power here.
This is a boss battle, which means we must somehow defeat her.
There are no true instructions like there were with the Arapaima.
There is nothing to hint at what we could be doing here other than the word diplomacy, which means it’s likely not like the others.
If I tell her that Locke doesn’t belong to me and she takes him, there isn’t much I can do about it.
We’re deep in this domain, through tunnels we’ll never be able to find our way out of, and vastly outnumbered.
If I say yes, and she decides she wants him anyways, the same issue.
But . . . something tells me that my word here holds far more sway than Locke’s does.
“Yes,” I finally answer. “He belongs to me.”
Locke meets my eyes and nods in understanding. We’ve come to the same conclusion. This is going to take some navigation.
“Would you lend him to me?” the queen asks. She gestures to the men fawning around her. “You may take one of mine as payment.”
“I, uh, am rather fond of mine,” I say. “Territorial even, one might say.”
The queen straightens. “Oh, he must be talented indeed to have a strong female like you territorial.” She leans forward. “What is a worthy payment in your eyes?” She gestures to a corner where I realize dozens of crates are stacked. “I have many loot chests to choose from.”
That’s a lot of loot. The items that are probably in those chests . . .
My eyes meet Locke’s and I can see him weighing it as well. I clear my throat. “Could you guarantee his safety and survival?”