PART 1: THE AGONIZING DEATH OF AN OFFICE WORKER
Pain. An unbearable, gut-twisting pain that coiled in Aya Kurose’s stomach like a nest of writhing, venomous serpents.
She gasped, her breath ragged, her fingers twitching weakly against the cold, unfeeling office floor. Her world tilted, the sterile overhead lights blurring into hazy, flickering halos above her. She tried to move, but her limbs refused to obey—numb, useless, as if they no longer belonged to her.
The realization hit her like a freight train.
Poison.
Had she eaten something bad? The half-stale sandwich from the convenience store? The dumplings that tasted like microwaved regret? That vending machine coffee that had the consistency of motor oil?
Her throat tightened as nausea roiled through her gut, a deep, wrenching sickness that stole what little breath she had left. She wanted to stand, to stumble toward her phone and call for help, but her body collapsed forward, her cheek pressing against the smooth tile floor. Cold sweat dripped from her temple, her pulse a rapid, erratic drum in her ears.
Above her, the fluorescent lights flickered—or was it her vision failing?
Her chest burned. Each gasp felt heavier than the last. The strength bled from her limbs, her fingers curling uselessly.
In the corner of her fading vision, she noticed something small moving across her desk.
An ant.
A single, tiny ant, scurrying across the pristine surface as if it had somewhere important to be.
That ant has more purpose in life than I ever did.
The thought settled in her mind like a cruel joke. She had wasted years shackled to a desk, drowning in the monotony of corporate slavery, sacrificing sleep, health, and happiness for a paycheck that barely covered rent and instant noodles.
And for what?
To die alone in a soulless office over a poisoned meal worth less than the change in her pocket?
Her vision darkened, her limbs heavy, her mind unraveling into a void of nothingness.
Her last thought before the darkness swallowed her whole?
This is bullshit.
----------------------------------------
PART 2: THE SILENT CAGE
Aya existed.
She wasn’t sure how, but she existed.
No pain. No exhaustion. No body?
Everything was black. No sounds, no sensation of breath or movement. It was as if she had been sealed inside an empty void.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
So, I really died…
There was no tunnel of light. No grand revelation. Just an eerie, suffocating silence.
Was this the afterlife? A vast, endless nothingness? She had half-expected something more… dramatic. Maybe a stern lecture from some divine entity. A chance to bargain her way into reincarnation as a rich heiress or an overpowered hero in a fantasy world.
But there was nothing.
Until she felt something.
A presence. A cage.
Aya’s world wasn’t truly empty—it was small. A tight, confined space pressed around her, smooth yet damp.
Panic spiked through her.
She tried to move, to lift a hand, but her body didn’t respond the way it should. Her limbs—were they even limbs?—twitched weakly.
Something is wrong.
She pushed, straining against the suffocating walls of her prison. The damp surface resisted at first, then—
Crack.
The sensation was alien and raw. Warm, viscous fluid oozed through the cracks. Aya pushed harder, her instincts screaming at her to escape.
Another crack. And another.
Her entire world trembled as her fragile body forced its way forward. She clawed, tore, bit at the enclosing walls with newfound mandibles—
And then—
Light.
Dim, flickering light.
The prison shattered. Aya tumbled forward, drenched in thick, slimy fluid, her small, trembling body collapsing onto a damp surface.
But as her senses adjusted to the new world—
Her blood ran cold.
----------------------------------------
PART 3: THE NIGHTMARE REALITY OF AN ANT
Aya blinked—or at least, she tried to. But her vision was wrong.
Everything was blurred, shapes and movements blending together in a distorted mess. No fine details, no colors beyond a strange mix of brown and shadowy gray.
It wasn’t just her sight that was wrong.
Her body—oh god, her body—
Long. Segmented. Limbs—too many limbs—twitched at her command. She felt light, far too small, her exoskeleton fragile and thin.
Mandibles. She had mandibles.
Panic surged, but when she tried to scream, only a strange chittering noise escaped her.
No. NO.
With trembling movements, she turned, trying to make sense of her surroundings.
And that’s when she saw them.
Hundreds of them.
Hatchlings. Just like her.
Tiny, twitching forms, pushing out of broken eggshells, drenched in the same sticky birth fluids. A sea of newborn ants, squirming and stumbling over one another.
Aya’s mind broke.
I—I’m one of them?!
Her thoughts spiraled into sheer, unfiltered horror.
Her siblings—because what else could they be?—were ugly. Oversized heads. Bulging black eyes. Twitching antennae.
She imagined how she must look.
Oh god. I’m one of those hideous, spindly-legged nightmares.
Her tiny, fragile legs flailed as she instinctively backed away—only to trip and land flat on her back.
A pathetic, upside-down ant, legs flailing in the air.
She wanted to die. Again.
----------------------------------------
PART 4: WELCOME TO THE COLONY, WORKER #10284
Before Aya could recover from her existential meltdown, shadows loomed over her.
Big. Bigger than her. Bulky, towering figures with gleaming exoskeletons. Adult ants.
Caretakers.
One of them reached down and grabbed her—WITH ITS MOUTH.
A deep, paralyzing dread settled in. Oh god, I’m going to be eaten.
But instead of devouring her, the worker ant simply… placed her upright.
Then, it flicked its antennae at her.
A strange, tingling sensation pulsed through Aya’s head. A message. A command.
“Move, hatchling.”
Her tiny antennae twitched in utter disbelief.
Excuse me?! That’s it? No ‘congratulations on your birth’? No comforting words? Just ‘MOVE’?!
It got worse.
Her hearing was awful. Her sight was worse. But her sense of smell?
Absolute hell.
The underground tunnels reeked of dirt, pheromones, and thousands of ants. Every scent screamed a different meaning.
Aya’s antennae drooped.
This was it. Her new life.
No coffee. No weekends.
Just tunnels. Dirt. And the crushing reality of being an insect.
Somewhere in the vast universe, a god was laughing at her.
And Aya Kurose, former office worker, now Worker Ant #10284, wanted nothing more than to flip the world off.