The unwanted happened and I acted in our best interest.

First, I decided to protect my companions from the raining balls of poison. Although no one had gotten hit yet, sooner or later someone would have succumbed to the attacks; it was a certainty. Moreover, not much space was left on the leaf to move around. Although Genma was working hard to keep us safe, he was only just one ant. So, I programmed my auto-defense to rapid-fire air bullets at the poison balls. Unfortunately, even though the air bullet was a very cheap skill in terms of mana usage --because they missed the target more often than they connected-- the constant barrage really taxed my mana pool. So I allowed auto-defense to seek the poison balls inside of blindly firing at them, which although doubled the primary mana consumption by the air bullets, also brought my total mana expenditure to a fifth of its initial, improving our condition in a click.

I really wanted to give the caterpillar’s hell by unleashing my acidic mist upon them, but I wasn’t sure how the plant would react to it and that was an important consideration; it was the same reason which had me hesitating to use falling stars. There was no other foothold. We were stuck on the only plant around and that had me helpless. It was like being slowly choked out of option by invisible hands.

Knowing that nothing good would come from holding the news, I told the others of our situation and found them struggling with the idea of being surrounded by those gruesome creatures; Two of which soon joined the fight and started attacking us with poison balls, giving credit to my words and panicking me internally.

Auto-defense handled the attacks for now, but even it had limits; one of such limits was my limited mana pool. It was too costly a method. Maybe I should have gone against the caterpillars, but that would have defeated the purpose of me defending instead of attacking. I cursed the newest two crawlers for joining the offense and skewing my calculations.

Once everyone got the chance to settle, David asked me about our situation. Even he could sense the noose tightening around our necks.

“How many more are there?” he asked. I believe he wanted to know whether the situation could be handled or not. I didn’t have an exact number, “But I can definitely sense five more nearby.” I said.

“Are there any of them above us?” was his other question and there were none. It was during this state of panic when I saw Dark looking at me with a different, more subtle of his gazes. I knew he wanted something, but I just couldn’t figure out what, until he spoke.

“Light,” he said walking toward the edge of the leaf. “Give me light.” He said again, and then I understood. He wanted me to create artificial light so that shadows could form and he could use his skills. He was intending to deal with the caterpillar nearest to the stalk, the bridge connecting the different levels made of leaves. That, I decided, would help my cause and summoned a light ball. Four shadows extended below me like the black petals of a night flower when the light ball appeared above my head in all its glory and brightened our surroundings. Dark sensed the shadows forming and moved, but I stopped him. “Wait,” I said, and sent the light ball flying so it could hover at an angle in front of the black crawler, blinding its minute sight and giving Dark enough shadows to deal with.

He nodded seeing a shadow extend behind the crawler and dived into Minks dimming shadow as the light ball furled away. “Don’t!” David yelled, but was left disappointed and flustered. Dark disappeared and seconds later the crawler screamed in agony. It was him doing his job. The crawler had to get on the defense as Dark moved around it like a shadow himself, keeping it occupied.

Finally understanding the nature of our situation, David glared at me and asked, “From which direction are they coming?” I pointed at the one on our immediate right, the two on the other side of the stalk and an equal number of them on the leaves of the bottom level. Our enemies were invisible, not by choice of course. They didn’t have the skill to become invisible—that wasn’t something even I could do, yet. This place was keeping them invisible and untraceable from normal senses. Usually, it should become too late by the time they are detected, but the timely evolution of sensitive hearing had disturbed their plan.

“Let’s go up.” David pointed toward the tapering top where the number of leaves dimmed with each level, leaving only two at the very top with a long stalk extending past them. No one objected.

“About dark—“ I cut him short and sent Dark a whisper about our decision.

“It’s done,” I said. “You go first. I’ll join you all later with him.” David considered then agreed and they started climbing.

They didn’t look so good. Their morale was down. I could feel it. The situation had worsened so suddenly. We weren’t expecting to be ambushed by our enemies, or for them to be so skillful. They hadn’t shown any of their hands during the invasion of the farm. How were we to expect that they would be such menacing creatures in a different environment? And this was just the crawlers; who know what the bugs, the fliers, the ladies and the seers had in store for us.

“We can survive!” I said behind them using war cry. It cleared their confusion —the depression hazing their minds— and allowed them to put strength into their steps. But it didn’t cheer them up, for I didn’t intend it to. Half a minute later, they reached the leaves above and Dark had the crawler irritated and heavily injured. I hadn’t taken my eyes off him. He really had a serious advantage against his enemy. Not only was he agile and dexterous enough to stay in his enemy's blindsight, but his tentacles could be sharp if he wanted them to be, and he was able to put a lot of hurt through them. I whispered to him as soon as the others reached the top, and told him to get back before the other crawlers could converge upon him. He ignored my whisper at first, indulging in the moment, but heeded my call when another one of those green crawlers with wrinkled skin suddenly appeared atop the leaf he was fighting at and nearly pushed him into the abyss below.

I called my light back and he followed the shadows created by it. I ran above the stalk with all my might, deactivating auto-defense to preserve mana. By now my auto-defense, air bullet, and seeker, all had risen twice. It was easy to dodge the poison balls thanks to my acute sense, which became slightly easier when the skill reached level 2, and I was soon among the others. Dark joined us a beat later, emerging from the shadow formed under my light ball.

“I wish, I could explore a little more.” His taunting voice followed. I heard Pyro mentally groan. A spark grew large above his head and he angrily hurled it toward our friends below. Luckily, it struck a poison ball coming our way and —surprisingly— made it explode, bringing another two caterpillars into the light.

“What now captain?” Dark asked, but when David didn’t say anything I answered for him.

“Now we wait for the timer to run dry. And then we’ll leave.”

The others —especially David— stared, but I knew it was time to end this. There was no place left to go. The enemies were too dangerous, and the fight hadn’t even started yet. To fight from here onwards would be suicidal and David knew it. So maybe that’s the reason he didn’t rebuke me when I put out the proposal.

“You said it yourself,” I further added to strengthen my case. “Our colony needs leaders desperately. Your deaths will only burden the ones left behind. I believe it’s more important for you all —especially you David— to return back. As for the food shortage, you can deal with it later.” Maybe they were too flustered, so no one raised their voice when I said you instead of we; not that I was underestimating them. They were strong for ants, but still ants in the end.

“You do what you have to do,” I said next, which made Dark spring and David to look his way. Either, I was using the proverb wrong or there was some history between them and the proverb. Their eyes met, David glared, Dark looked away, and then disappeared into the shadow below him, leaving me to deal with a furious crazy brute.

“Did he ask you to say that?” David grunted. “Does he want—”

“I don’t know the deal between you two,” I said, cutting him short. I almost believe I heard Pyro inhale sharply then, but I’m not sure. “But he did not ask anything of me.” Well, that was not right, but David didn’t have to know that. “I personally don’t think there is any merit in continuing this exploration.”

He tried to speak, but I interfered again. “Do you really want to see us die?” I said, and that did it. His glare softened and his back hunched. His antennas coiled and his body stiffened. He turned away from me, took a few steps and sat down; at least the others thought so. I felt his trembles from the leaf; he was shaking. I had overdone it.

He neither agreed nor denied my proposal. Pyro, however, was anxious and his anxiousness was contagious. “They are coming up,” he said. Everyone knew that of course; but when spoken out like that, it added realism to the matter.

“How much longer,” Genma asked looking below at the creatures slowly climbing our way.

“Ten minutes more,” I said. “We only need to survive for ten minutes more.”

That’s when it happened.

I sensed five more creatures suddenly appear on the leaves above us. All of them except one were of the dark variety, ones which could attack with poison. Their appearance gave me relief, then tension, and then relief again. Visible enemies, I could deal with, but to deal with unnecessary hope is difficult. With only ten minutes left and our enemies too far and slow, I worried that my companions might lose their fear and try to fight them again. Dark had already proved it viable by going alone against a caterpillar and had given ideas as to how to deal with them: Just stay in their blindsight and you are good. The enemies above changed that. Despair can do wonders if used correctly.

“Should we go higher?” Genma asked David but received no answer.

I gave them the bad news. “There is nowhere to go. There are five of them above us.”

“What? When did that happen?” Pyro asked.

“Just now,” I said. “And they aren’t waiting for us to reach them; they are already descending.”

That made them instantly raise their heads. There, the one with wrinkled skin was descending; the rest each stood upon a leaf that curved under their weight. Now that Genma and the others knew something was above them, they could give source to the weird scents in the air and the sounds which they sensed. I fired a ball of poison at the one descending and sent an air bullet seeking right behind it. The momentary explosion and the spray of poison afterward instantly brought it out of stealth and into the open. Something unwanted did happen, for the poison stuck to its skin instead of bouncing off like my usual attacks and made it scream in pain. It gave up descending and started ascending again, while its friends that were still atop the leaves hung their heads down and started vomiting a spray of poison at us to cover its retreat. Were they poisoning balls I could have let auto-defense take care of them, but the liquid spray was so unexpected that only Genma could act in time to create a wavering umbrella of light and give us a small but necessary window to think up a solution. Yet, the barrier easily broke once again, and we had to separate in a rush to protect ourselves.

I cursed under my breath, picked the paralyzed Genma, and ran to the other side of the stalk where three leaves untouched by poison still remained. Dark vanished once again, taking David along. As for Pyro, he did something unexpected. He pushed Mink off the leaf and unfurled a fountain of fire at the misting poison right when the barrier broke, instantly igniting the mix and creating an explosion. The force from the explosion —to my and Genma’s utter dismay— shattered the leaf and plunged his unconscious body —or whatever was left of it— toward the darkness below.

I was able to sense everything happening to the minute detail.

“Save him!” Genma yelled at me, but I was already hurrying before he could even finish his sentence. I knew Pyro was alive—burned and dying, but alive still. Out of sheer luck, the ignition of poison had created warm gases which had spread the force in a ring up and around, creating a hemispherical globe of heat and pressure, taking away much of the blunt force from the explosion. There is another more sensible explanation to the ordeal, which, however, involved Pyro possessing very precise control of fire and knowledge of forces, something which I hadn’t seen his show before, making it an improbable notion.

As for Mink, he had safely landed on the single empty leaf in the last bunch of them. It accelerated down the stalk because it was faster than diving. I didn’t dare accelerate through the obstacle prone way though. I focused at the caterpillar climbing up the stalk and rushed (the ability which flings me toward a focused target at +40% agility at level 4) toward it. Yet, even that proved to be way harder than I could have expected — not that I was expecting anything; the situation had turned too dangerous, too suddenly for me to think up a plan.

Focus, the first special ability of sight, helped me somewhat. It allowed me to keep focus on the caterpillar climbing up the stalk. The thing instantly became offensive upon seeing me and attacked with a Poison ball, which my auto-defense took care of. It had two more friends climbing behind and they also attacked my popular mug upon sight. Auto-defense took care of the attacks it could, while those it deemed impossible to defend against, I dodged.

I slid across the first black striped caterpillar inline and found myself rushing toward the hairy legs of its friend behind, which had bent half of its body away from the stalk in order to catch me. My focus shifted when I sensed Pyro’s body dip past. I jumped off after him! My acrobatic enemy swirled its body mid-air to catch me but ended up losing its grip and falling off. I was really close to him — to Pyro, I mean. My decision to not dive proved to be vital, as I caught him just past the last level of leaves. Burned and missing a third of his body, he was in a sorry state of being, enough so to make me panic. And to make matters worse, we had already left the dangerous yet accommodating grounds of the plant behind and were rapidly approaching the abyss below. I had doomed us.

The abyss below was anything but safe. It had my senses jarred and my skills blaring. It was a swirl of endlessness. There was absolutely nothing inside it. It didn’t even have an inside. Death; it was death given form and then deformed into shapelessness.

We fell for some time, and just when we had almost converged with veering mass of visible blackness and I had confirmed us dead, my senses caught something. It was a flier, and it was calmly hovering in the darkness. It wasn’t alone though and was accompanied by a creature of massive proportions, more so than the caterpillars prancing above. They weren’t phantoms, for I wouldn’t have sensed them, were they. Not knowing what would happen lest I disturbed one was frightening; I still did it anyway. It was a life or death moment. I glided toward them, corrected my descent and fell right upon the lace winged bug, awakening him right away. It became visible at the disturbance and streaked up toward the plant without any further influence from me. I simply kept a strong-rooted hold on its body and seconds later the plant reappeared above me. I dearly held Pyro’s body and prayed to anyone listening to keep my friends safe. It was the first time I thought of them as friends rather than as companions or teammates. Despair, as I said before, can do wonders.