The world was small, but it was all the isopod had ever known. Encased in a dome of glass, the terrarium was a lush green haven filled with moss, damp soil, smooth pebbles, and the faint scent of moisture that hung in the still air. Light filtered in through the curved walls, casting a faintly distorted view of the room beyond—though the isopod could not comprehend it. To him, the world ended at the glass.

He stirred from his resting place beneath a piece of decaying wood, his many legs unfolding in careful synchronization. His segmented exoskeleton glistened in the muted light, a blend of gray and brown perfectly suited to the earthy tones around him. This was Rollan, named not by himself but by the great hand that occasionally appeared from beyond the glass.

Rollan stretched his antennae, sensing the familiar vibrations of his surroundings. The terrarium was alive, though he rarely saw the others unless they were passing by his wood. There were small spiders weaving delicate webs in the corners, a snail that sometimes emerged from its shell to glide across the moss, and a colony of springtails hopping across the soil. But Rollan preferred solitude. His world was quiet, predictable—a series of movements in the shadows, the damp embrace of soil, and the occasional feast on a rotting leaf or vegetable scrap.

Today, however, something was different.

Rollan paused, his antennae twitching. The air was charged with a faint tension, a sense of disruption in the equilibrium. He scuttled forward cautiously, emerging from under his wood for the first time in what felt like days. The moss glistened as if freshly watered, and the soil beneath his feet was cool and loose. Across the terrarium, he noticed a disturbance: a new object.

It was a large rock, jagged and black, and it did not belong.

The rock sat in the center of the terrarium like a monolith. Rollan had seen the great hand bring objects into their world before, but never anything like this. It loomed above the pebbles and soil, casting sharp shadows that made the normally inviting terrarium feel alien. He hesitated at first, his legs tapping nervously as he debated whether to investigate.

Curiosity, however, was a powerful force.

He began the trek toward the rock, moving cautiously over familiar terrain. He passed the snail, who was half-buried in the moss, its slimy eyes barely visible. The springtails scattered as he approached, their tiny bodies jumping away like popcorn kernels. Rollan's legs clicked softly against the pebbles as he neared the base of the foreign object.

It was cold to the touch, smoother than he expected in some places and rough in others. Rollan climbed partway up its surface, his claws finding purchase in the jagged edges. From this vantage point, he could see farther across the terrarium than he ever had before. The height made him uneasy, but it also filled him with a strange exhilaration.

Suddenly, the rock shifted.

Rollan froze, his tiny heart pounding. The vibration was faint but unmistakable. For a moment, he thought he had imagined it. But then the rock moved again—a slow, deliberate shift, almost imperceptible but enough to dislodge a piece of moss at its base. Rollan scrambled back down to the safety of the soil, his instincts screaming at him to retreat.

The rock was alive.

Rollan retreated to his wood, his mind racing. Though he lacked the ability to reason in human terms, his instincts told him that this new presence was unlike anything he had encountered before. He watched from the shadows as the rock shifted again, this time more visibly. A crack appeared along its surface, and a faint light seeped out, pulsating gently like a heartbeat.

The other inhabitants of the terrarium seemed equally disturbed. The snail withdrew into its shell completely, and even the springtails avoided the area around the rock. The spiders in the corners grew more active, spinning frantically as if preparing for an oncoming storm.

Hours passed, or perhaps it was only minutes. Time in the terrarium was difficult to measure. The light from the rock grew stronger, casting eerie patterns against the glass walls. Rollan felt a pull—an inexplicable urge to approach it again despite the fear coiling in his tiny body.

The moss whispered to him as he passed, its fronds trembling with faint vibrations. He couldn't understand the words, but the message was clear: beware.

Rollan ignored the warning. Something deep within him, a voice older than the glass-enclosed world he lived in, urged him forward. He climbed again, this time more cautiously, his antennae brushing against the smooth, glowing surface of the rock.

As Rollan touched the glowing crack, a surge of warmth spread through his body. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was startling—like the first rays of sunlight after a storm. He recoiled at first, but curiosity won out. Slowly, tentatively, he placed both front legs on the crack and leaned forward.

The rock responded.

The crack widened with a sharp sound, and the light spilled out like liquid, flooding the terrarium with an otherworldly glow. Rollan fell back, tumbling onto the soil, but he didn't look away. The rock was opening, and something was emerging.

It was small at first—barely larger than Rollan himself—but it grew as it unfolded, stretching limbs that gleamed like polished stone. It had too many legs, too many eyes, and its body was covered in intricate patterns that seemed to shift and shimmer in the light. The creature turned its many eyes toward Rollan, and though it didn't speak, he felt its presence in his mind.

"Who are you?"

The question wasn't spoken aloud, but Rollan understood it nonetheless. He didn't have an answer.

The creature moved closer, its movements fluid and deliberate. The terrarium seemed to hold its breath, the usual hum of life stilled as if every inhabitant was watching this moment. Rollan stood his ground, his antennae quivering as the creature loomed over him.

For a long moment, there was silence. Then, the creature tilted its head—or what Rollan assumed was its head—and emitted a faint clicking sound. It was a sound Rollan recognized: the sound of greeting, of peace.

The tension in his body eased slightly. Perhaps this new being wasn't a threat. Perhaps it was something else entirely.

But as the light from the rock dimmed and the creature retreated into the shadows, Rollan knew one thing for certain: the world within the glass would never be the same.