I was digging in the forest when I hit a nest. My friends told me to run away immediately

Then my shovel struck something that didn’t sound like rock.

The hollow thud made me pause. I brushed away the dirt carefully, revealing a rounded structure just beneath the surface. It looked fragile, almost organic, like something carefully constructed rather than naturally formed. Before I could get a closer look, one of my friends, who had been watching nearby, shouted at me to stop.

“Don’t touch it. Back away. Now.”

The urgency in their voice caught me off guard. Within seconds, the relaxed mood shifted into tension. Another friend echoed the warning, more forcefully this time, telling me to move away immediately.