You’re crawling through the dirt. It’s damp, dark, and smells like decaying pine needles. Suddenly, a beetle the size of a school bus lunges from the shadows. This isn't a horror movie. It's just a Tuesday in Empire of the Ants.
Developed by Tower Five and published by Microids, this game is a massive departure from your typical real-time strategy (RTS) title. Most games in this genre want you to be a god in the sky, clicking on tiny units that look like ants. Here? You are the ant. Specifically, you’re 103,683rd, a brave little soldier tasked with protecting the colony in the Fontainbleau Forest. It’s based on Bernard Werber’s 1991 cult-classic novel, which, if you haven’t read it, is basically a philosophical manifesto disguised as a nature documentary.
The game looks terrifyingly real. Unreal Engine 5 is doing some heavy lifting here. When you see the light hit a dewdrop on a blade of grass, you sort of forget you’re playing a game about bugs. It feels like a high-budget BBC Earth special where you’ve been given the remote control.
What Empire of the Ants gets right about being tiny
Photorealism is a buzzword people throw around a lot, but in Empire of the Ants, it’s the whole point. You aren't looking at a map; you’re looking at a macro-photography lens come to life. The scale is what messes with your head. A discarded soda can is a looming metallic skyscraper. A small puddle is an impassable lake.
Tower Five didn't just make things look small; they made them feel heavy.
Movement is surprisingly fluid. You can scuttle up vertical tree trunks and hang upside down from leaves. This isn't just for show. Verticality changes how you scout the battlefield. In a standard RTS like StarCraft, you’re limited by the fog of war on a flat plane. In this game, you’re constantly looking for a high vantage point—a literal twig—to see where the rival termite colony is setting up their flank. It’s tactical, sure, but it’s also weirdly meditative.
The sound design deserves a shout-out too. There’s no booming orchestral score constantly screaming in your ear. Instead, you get the rhythmic skittering of legs, the rustle of wind, and the terrifying crunch of an exoskeleton snapping. Honestly, it’s a bit gross if you think about it too long. But it’s authentic.
👉 See also: Mass Effect 2 Classes: Why Your First Choice Might Be a Huge Mistake
Strategy without the spreadsheet headache
If you’ve ever tried to play Age of Empires and felt overwhelmed by managing fifty different peasants, you’ll find Empire of the Ants a bit more approachable. You aren't micro-managing every individual worker. You lead legions.
You’ve got your warriors, your gunners (yes, ants that shoot acid), and your workers. You issue commands through a radial menu that feels snappy, even on a controller. You tell a squad to follow you, or you point at a resource and tell them to go grab it. It’s streamlined. Some hardcore RTS fans might find it a little "lite," but that misses the point. The complexity doesn't come from your APM (actions per minute); it comes from navigating the environment.
The ecosystem is the enemy
You aren't just fighting other ants. The forest is alive and mostly wants to eat you.
- Predators: A spider isn't just a "unit" on the map; it’s a boss fight that can wipe out half your army if you aren't careful.
- Weather: Rain isn't just a visual effect. For an ant, a raindrop is basically a kinetic missile.
- Allies: You can actually recruit other insects. Need some tanky support? Get some snails or beetles on your side.
The game operates on a day-night cycle that actually matters. Nighttime changes visibility and predator behavior. Seasons change too. Spring is about expansion, while winter—well, winter is about survival. It forces you to change your playstyle. You can't just spam the same units and expect to win every encounter.
Realism vs. gameplay: The Bernard Werber influence
Bernard Werber’s book was famous for its "interlude" chapters that explained ant biology and social structures. The game tries to bake this into the narrative. You aren't just a mindless drone. The game hints at a deeper intelligence, a "hive mind" communication that feels alien and fascinating.
There’s a specific mission where you have to escort a queen, and the way the game portrays the sheer devotion of the colony is actually kind of touching. It leans into the "Empire" part of the title. This is a civilization. They have diplomats, architects, and scouts.
✨ Don't miss: Getting the Chopper GTA 4 Cheat Right: How to Actually Spawn a Buzzard or Annihilator
However, let’s be real: the "human" side of the story from the book is mostly absent here. The game focuses almost entirely on the insects. For some, that might be a letdown if they were expecting the dual-narrative of the novel. But for the sake of a cohesive gaming experience? It was probably the right call. Managing a human mystery while also trying not to get stepped on by a deer would have been a mess.
Why the multiplayer might be the secret winner
While the single-player campaign is a solid 10-15 hour experience, the 1v1 and 3-player free-for-all modes are where the game’s mechanics really shine.
Competitive Empire of the Ants is fast. Because you are physically present on the battlefield as a commander, you can't be everywhere at once. You have to decide: do I stay with my main army to buff their morale, or do I scuttle across the map to secure a new pheromone station? It creates this frantic, high-stakes tug-of-war.
The multiplayer maps are smaller and more focused than the campaign levels. They’re designed for quick skirmishes. You start with a base (the nest) and expand by capturing "hubs." Each hub can be upgraded for defense or resource production. It’s classic RTS logic applied to a 3D, third-person perspective. It works way better than it has any right to.
Is it actually worth your time?
Let’s address the elephant in the room—or the beetle in the bush. This is a niche game. If you hate bugs, you’re going to have a bad time. The close-ups are intense.
But if you’re tired of the same three genres being recycled every year, this is a breath of fresh air. It’s a "AA" game that feels like a "AAA" experiment. It’s bold. It’s gorgeous. It’s a bit clunky in the platforming sections, and sometimes the camera gets stuck inside a blade of grass, but these are minor gripes.
🔗 Read more: Why Helldivers 2 Flesh Mobs are the Creepiest Part of the Galactic War
The game succeeds because it makes the mundane feel epic. A fallen log becomes a treacherous mountain pass. A group of aphids becomes a vital flock of livestock. It’s a shift in perspective that most media fails to pull off.
Actionable Steps for New Commanders
If you're ready to start your colony, keep these practical tips in mind to avoid a total wipeout:
Master the Camera Early
Don't play this like a standard third-person action game. Use your ability to climb trees to get a "tactical overhead" view manually. Knowing the layout of the terrain before you send your legions in is the difference between a win and a massacre.
Prioritize Pheromone Stations
Resources are the lifeblood of your nest. In the early game, don't worry about attacking the enemy nest. Focus on securing at least two additional pheromone stations. This increases your unit cap and allows you to replenish lost squads faster.
Mix Your Legions
Don't just build warriors. Gunners are essential for taking down flying threats or larger predators like wasps. A balanced army—usually two warrior squads for every one gunner squad—tends to survive the unexpected encounters in the undergrowth.
Use the Environment to Flank
Since you can walk on almost any surface, use the underside of branches or the interior of hollow logs to bypass enemy frontline defenses. Most AI (and human players) focus on the clear paths. Coming from "above" (the bottom of a leaf) is a genuine strategy that works.
Watch the Clock
Pay attention to the season and time of day indicators. If it’s getting late and you’re far from home, retreat. Losing your main commander ant in the dark to a wandering predator can reset your progress on a mission significantly. Safety in the nest is always better than a risky night-time push.