I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Lukas watched the ant standing motionless right in the center of his field of vision, as if it were deliberately staring back at him.

Six thin legs supported a segmented body of glossy black that reflected the sunlight like tiny mirrors.

Its antennae twitched lightly, sampling the scents in the air.

’An ant?’

’It apparently looks just like the ants from Earth...’

He studied every tiny detail of the insect with the trained gaze of someone who had spent years observing creatures.

The body is divided into three distinct parts, head, thorax, and abdomen. The prominent mandibles are suited for carrying food and construction materials.

The antennae are the primary sensory organs. The six jointed legs, each ending in a tiny claw, were now gently gripping the soft skin of his cheek.

’I hope it doesn’t bite me. I’m sure in this tiny body it would hurt a lot.’

The thought was followed by a pang of anxiety. He had been bitten by ants during childhood while playing in the orphanage garden.

He remembered the sharp pain, the red swelling that itched for hours. In a baby’s body, vulnerable and helpless, a bite could be even worse.

Despite the concern, however, genuine curiosity took hold of him.

This was the first living creature, other than his family members, to approach him voluntarily in this new world.

Since being born, Lukas had seen birds in the distance and heard insects at night through the open window, but none of them had come close. None of them had chosen to land on him.

Even though it was only an ordinary ant, Lukas felt a quiet, warm happiness bloom in his chest.

It was a familiar feeling, an old one, something he had not experienced since his previous life, the feeling of standing before a living creature and observing it.

’You’re the closest animal I’ve had so far...’

’In this life, at least.’

Time passed unexpectedly.

Lukas expected the ant to continue on its way after a few minutes.

After all, ants were busy creatures, always moving, always carrying something from one place to another. They had colonies to maintain, queens to serve, and larvae to feed.

But this ant did not seem to be in a hurry.

It wandered slowly across his face with an almost meditative calm, exploring the soft skin of his cheek, climbing to his forehead, where its antennae twitched for a long moment above the fine fuzz of his hair. Before descending again toward his chin.

Several times it stopped directly in front of Lukas’s eyes, so close that he could see the reflection of light in its tiny multifaceted compound eyes.

’Is it... observing me?’

The idea seemed absurd. Ants did not observe. Ants acted on instinct, following chemical trails and responding to stimuli. They had no curiosity. They had no intentions.

But this ant seemed to.

Its antennae moved slowly, almost as if trying to communicate.

The fact was that the ant had remained there far longer than any ant anywhere should have.

Lukas tried to raise his hands to touch it. His little arms, however, still responded slowly and clumsily, trembling in the air for a few seconds before dropping heavily back onto the mattress as if made of lead.

Frustration struck him like a wave. He let out a guttural sound, a low infant babble that came out more as a grunt than a word.

’I hate not being able to control my own body.’

The ant, meanwhile, seemed to notice the movement. Its antennae pointed toward Lukas’s hand, twitched rapidly for a brief moment, and then it resumed its calm walk.

Hours passed like that.

Lukas had no way of measuring time accurately. His biological clock was unreliable, and the sun moved slowly across the window, changing the patterns of light on the wooden ceiling.

But he knew that a long time had passed. Long enough for Aurora to begin softly snoring in the rocking chair beside him, her white hair spread across the backrest, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

The ant walked, stopped, and observed. Climbed, descended, circled around.

Lukas remained still, fascinated. For the first time since his rebirth, the suffocating boredom of endless days, that mixture of helplessness and monotony that made him feel like a prisoner in his own body, had disappeared.

He had something to observe. Something to study. Something alive to connect with.

When Aurora finally woke from her nap, she stretched slowly, her arms extending above her head in a graceful motion. Her violet eyes opened, still clouded with sleep, and she automatically smiled when she looked at her son, just as she did every time she woke up.

The smile lasted less than a second.

”Lukas! What’s that on your cheek?!”

She jumped to her feet, the rocking chair creaking violently from the sudden movement. Her eyes were now completely open, fixed on the tiny dark spot on her son’s face.

She hurried over, her bare feet striking the wooden floor.

Lukas watched her eyes widen as she recognized what it was.

Maternal instinct took over. Aurora carefully but firmly extended her hand and, with surprising gentleness for someone moving so quickly, grasped the ant by its antennae between her thumb and forefinger.

”Go away, little one...” she murmured as she walked to the open window.

”This isn’t the place for you.”

She released the insect outside onto the stone windowsill and closed the window with a sharp click.

Lukas felt a sharp sting of disappointment.

It was so sudden and intense that it surprised him.

He did not even know that ant.

It was just some random insect.

It had no name, no story, no significance.

’But it was my companion in boredom...’

The thought was followed by an equally intense sense of relief.

’She didn’t kill it. That’s good.’

Aurora could have crushed the ant without a second thought. Many people would have.

But she had picked it up carefully, gently, and placed it outside alive, unharmed, and free to continue on its way.

Lukas felt a renewed affection for his mother in that moment.

Aurora returned, lifted him into her arms with the care of someone handling something more precious than glass, and examined him closely. Her hands moved across his face, his arms, and his chest, checking every inch of skin for redness or swelling.

”Are you okay? It didn’t bite you, did it?” she asked, laughing softly when she noticed that her son’s eyes were still fixed on the window as if searching for something.

”How adorable... You spent all that time looking at it, didn’t you? You did, didn’t you? My little curious one...”

She nursed him right there, sitting on the edge of the bed, softly humming a song about the moon and the stars. The warm milk flowed down his throat, and Lukas felt the exhaustion of his long vigil finally begin to take its toll.

’Will it come back tomorrow?’ he wondered as his eyes slowly closed.

’Probably not. Why would it?’

He fell asleep with the image of the black ant standing on the windowsill etched into his mind.