[We hate you!]

[Don’t come back!]

[You’re hurting my feelings! Why don’t you fly over here next to me and say that!]

[Get stuffed!]

[In your dreams, mate!]

[Turn off your lousy magic and THEN talk smack, ey? EYYYY?!]

[Why don’t you come over here and make me? Huh? Need me to go easy on you? Too weak for the real stuff?]

[Get off our island!]

[Yeah! You bleedin’ cheat!]

[Bah! All of you can bite my carapace! Your mums are all classy ladies, but you’re rubbish!]

To a chorus of mentally projected howls and insults, I float down and away from the Wandering Isle. Some of the Magpei follow, unwilling to let us go without getting the last word in. I take note of how they keep their distance from me, though, unwilling to be caught up in the gravity well.

Gweheheheh.

It’s taken a lot of mana to maintain it for this long, but it's been worth it. Looking at the suffering expressions of their faces every time they try to fly up and punch me has been a joy, bringing light to my dark, dark heart.

[Are you still going with them?] the mage, Olivis asks me.

[Of course! As long as they’re willing to serve it up, they’re going to get it back.]

[There will never come a time they are unwilling to serve it up. They’re the Magpei. They’ve been doing this for thousands and thousands of years.]

Which is why they’re so good at being annoying, I suppose. If there’s a Skill for irritating strangers, they must have it all the way to rank ten.

[I don’t see anything wrong with matching their energy. They want to be discourteous, rude and confrontational? Fine! I will do the same to them.]

[You don’t find it… childish?]

[No?]

She looks at me.

I look back at her. And in many other directions.

[How old are you, again?]

[Not that old, why do you ask?]

[No reason.]

If I were to add up my time as a human and my time as an ant… I guess my age would be… what? Sixteen-ish? Less? Honestly, it’s hard to remember how old I was when I died, and it’s difficult to keep track of time as an ant. It’s not like we hang calendars all over the place, or carry pocketwatches.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Although, I’m told that some ants have taken an interest in the clockmaking arts. So… it probably won’t be long until we do carry them around?

As we slowly descend, everyone else on the force platform, me lowering myself gracefully with my gravity well, I get a good look at the Legion fleet. Interestingly, they didn’t seem to bother us all that much while we dealt with the Wandering Isle. From what I know, only a few of them came up, not Morrelia, sadly, and other than observing, they pretty much left us alone.

Now, as we descend, I wonder if they intend to take pot shots at us, like they did when I was falling, but no. The massed fleet of hulking, armoured warships just sits, idly, with many a soldier and officer watching us. Watching me.

It’s creepy! Go look at something else! If they were admiring my glorious carapace, that would be one thing, but this is just them staring at me like a starving person staring at a ham! It’s uncomfortable, to say the least.

Once we arrive back down on the ship, I lower myself into position, flopping on the deck once more. Mapgei are STILL floating overhead, flinging insults at me, but I think I’ve had my fun. With a flicker of concentration, I allow my focus to lapse and the well to dissipate, the mana spreading out and losing its properties as it blends with the energy around it.

In that moment, I feel the dark nature of the forbidden one begin to recede, like oil on an ocean falling back from a pristine beach. Ah. I have returned to myself again.

Which is the exact moment that Odin chooses to pounce.

[When are you going to learn that there are other ants protecting me at all times?]

Pinned to the ground by three of my babysitters, Odin only groans, thrashing weakly with his claws.

[I didn’t sense their presence at all!] he complains.

[Of course not! They’ve specifically evolved and mutated to make sure you can’t!]

[Gah! Let me up!]

[How about no? Sit there and think about how not to be weird. When we get back to see Sarah again, I want to see a marked decrease in your odd behaviour.]

Ignoring the still bitterly struggling demon, I turn to Eran Thouris. I suppose I should give a little thought to the actual purpose of our travel.

[So, how was trade?]

[Profitable,] she says contentedly. [There aren’t that many people on the Wandering Isle, but due to its nature, it does an outsized amount of trade. They were quite interested in your foodstuffs, and we’ve arranged some contracts with several distributors. Tea was popular, as was the furniture, oddly enough. They don’t have ready access to wood, so they have to trade for it, and the prices of the Colony outcompete what they get from elsewhere.]

Well, that’s good news, I suppose.

[At least we didn’t have to put up with the Magpei’s pecking for nothing.]

She gives me an exasperated look.

[What do you mean, we put up with it? I put up with it. My traders, put up with it. Every other member of the Colony put up with it. You certainly didn’t!]

Ugh. How to explain the presence of Dark Anthony? How to explain that he was drawn irrevocably to the surface by the taunting of the winged weirdos?

[I’ll… try harder next time,] I begrudgingly commit.

[See that you do,] she nods.

I mean… I’ll try, sure. I won’t succeed, but I’ll try.

[And now we only have one stop left.]

[That’s right,] she agrees, [we are headed to the Silver City. Capital of the Atreum Empire, and the largest, wealthiest city in the fourth stratum. Which means the largest and wealthiest in the world.]

She says that last part as if explaining the obvious to a child, which I find a little insulting.

[Look, it might be the wealthiest, but it won’t be long until the most populous places in the stratum are the Colony’s nests.]

Eran looks thoughtful.

[That’s true, I suppose. However, each individual ant has literally no purchasing power, as I understand it, so it won’t be worth setting up markets there.]

Gah. She’s not wrong, we don’t even have currency. I still can’t work out if this is a good or bad thing.

[So what’s this Silver City supposed to be like?]

[It’s the most beautiful city in the world.]

[Is that right?]

She nods emphatically.

[It is. You’ll understand when you see it.]