This was a case of worry becoming reality.

The flying predator was so massive the large frog easily fitted its feathered white talons. I could make out its underbelly from my position, inside the frog's wet mouth. Covered in layers of white feathers, it shone a prismatic hue every time the sky predator swerved left or right, letting sunlight trace over them.

Outside, wide blew strong and scraping. Staying under it was a daring venture for the overconfident and strong; I was neither.

It took me far away from 43rd city and my companions. How far? I couldn’t distinguish. Even the map, a system tool, a skill that showed my position relative to the geography, displayed me in a circle of black nothingness. Using it was my step toward adapting to the system; a little late, but better than never. The skill depended upon my knowledge of the surroundings to chart, and since was lost in a white haze somewhere up in the sky with no idea of the direction I was heading, it had stopped recording for the time being.

I was heading toward the unknown and alone. Time turned unease into fear for me, the fate of my city, and the princess whom I had left behind. Later confidence kicked in and confused me.

You are done. My inner voice laughed. Let’s see how you finish your quest now.

It needed a whip on its blasted bottom and be reminded that it was my inner voice.

Why don’t you jump? It said. You might make it to the ground in a single piece.

That surprised me. But suddenly the air grew cold around me. The bird dove and I saw water, blue sparkling water that roared like thunder and stung like poison. The sky predator pushed its free leg into the water body, skirting, opening a wound on the surface that closed behind us. It drank from the river, letting me a sight of its face. It had green circular eyes with a rim of yellow around it, a pointed beak that was large and sharp enough to pierce right through the frog. A long feathery mane curved along with the shape of its neck. It climbed back to the sky once it finished drinking and my sight grew hazy again.

Well, you missed the chance. Better luck next time. My inner voice mocked. I grew pensive and sat back inside the frog's open mouth, eating its flesh to stay full and drinking the rising blood to keep hydrated. The red blood was too salty for my liking. We were so high up it was impossible to make out anything.

Eventually, we slowed. The sky predator went into a dive, wings folded, legs stretched behind. I almost got thrown away by the pressure and only survived thanks to the frog.

It wasn’t long before it pushed its wings out and flapped them to hover and slowly descend into the crown of a tree. I felt alive again as the drowning wind stopped and lively sounds erupted around me. The sudden explosion of greenery was emotionally overwhelmingly, after the never-ending white. I felt like I was at home again, but deep down I knew I might never return.

The all too familiar scents grounded me. Just a bit more and I could at least be back to my part of the world. The sky was not where I belonged.

Is the ground where you belong? You really think so? Even after meeting the frog and knowing the truth?

I ignored it.

We were getting closer to the source of the sounds, the sharp chirps, the cries of hunger. Sensitive hearing was too sensitive sometimes. The sky predator slowly lowered herself into the largest tree around, for as far as I was concerned.

Hidden between the branches and leaves was an enormous construction weaved from twigs, flexible reeds, and grass blades. It was carefully placed at the point where one of the larger branches extended into two. The sharp chirps were coming from it, loud enough to attract the attention of a predator, just like the frog. I wondered if there was something wrong with these creatures, whether they didn’t understand the meaning of vigilance. Did they lose fear with their size? But the chirps stopped when she took perch next to the nest that was far too open, too accessible —the latter being the reason behind its hollow base and an open top.

Me, mother! FEED ME! I heard as the frog was lifted and then dropped in the nest.

I braced for impact, which came as a sudden jolt and then pounding. I first thought of running outside, but ran the other way, inside, when the carnivorous murderous chicks pounced upon the frog.

They shredded the frog apart in minutes. The difference between us horrified me. Tens of ants had lost their lives to give the others a chance to attack it. The carcass would have nourished thousands for the coming days, slowly eating through it!

They are going to eat you along with the frog. My inner voice said. You better make a run for it while they are distracted.

There was a lull that made me wonder if they were done feeding, but I was wrong. The chicks started fighting over the last portions of the frog. The carcass was pulled and thrown around. That’s when I knew I had to leave. Inside the frog was not safe anymore, which was ironic. I rushed out of its mouth.

The ground was a barely wide strip of dried grass blade that demanded my full attention. Around me the chicks danced, causing surprisingly small tremors. The nest worked wonderfully as a shock dampener. I changed direction when a fuzz wall of feathery flesh blocked my path. Clawed feet drummed the nest, small wings flapped and loud chirps created a ruckus. The largest one among the three was trying to monopolize the whole frog. Two were fighting it. I noticed a fourth one, gigantic in its own right, but frail compared to the others resting to the side of the nest. It looked hungry but made no motion to fight for a portion. It had given up.

I wondered why they couldn’t share the frog then shook my head to clear my mind. This was no time for useless wonderment. My life was in danger. I would die the moment they noticed me.

Too late!

A claw crushed me.

That would have been the end of me if the ground was solid. Thankfully, it was not.

I fell through the senseless weaved construction of twigs and grass that the chicks called their nest. It made no sense to me. I couldn’t see intelligence in this. Were they not afraid of predators, of wind and rain, the elements, of diseases and parasites?

My world turned upside down. Stunned, I rolled over twigs and leaves only to find myself completely catatonic lying somewhere deep inside the nest. Only my antennae moved, which they did from neural misfiring rather than intention.

The world inside that multi-layered construction was deep and dark. Barely illuminated by sunlight, shadows drove into the gaps and filled them with darkness, while the burning edges of the materials gave it a sense of depth. The outside noises barely reached inside. I didn’t know I was looking for solace until I found it there. The passing light made the shadows like a living-moving creature, hiding inside the nest. Well, its addition wouldn’t have made any difference to my condition even if it was true.

Weary soldiers that survived the outside alone never told their stories. They only warned to be cautious. To stay on the trail, stay with the horde, never lose your way.

Our strength lies in numbers.

I lost consciousness right there midst the dancing lights and the warmth.

Night had fallen outside when I came awoke, and the world was under the veil of darkness. I climbed back to the surface —It was easier said than done, but not impossible. The sky predator was inside the nest, sleeping with the chicks under her wings, three of them. The frog was nowhere to be seen and another being, shelled and multi-legged, lay half-eaten to the side.

I passed by pieces of its broken shell, attracted by the lavish scent it was releasing. I wanted to leave, but hunger won me over. The scent was too inviting.

I approached the body with caution as the fourth chick, the malnourished one, slept right next to it. Far away a hopper cried for a mate. Wind careering through the leaves kept the night awake. The chick stirred in front of me as a cold gust swept through, but didn’t come awake. Soon, I was digging into the succulent mass, forgetting my woes for the time being. The nervousness gave way to stress eating and my abdomen swelled with each bite I took.

Lost in feeding, it was too late by the time my senses woke and alarmed me.

The fourth chick was awake!

My heart thrummed. It stared at me, head cocked and eyes staring in interest and confusion. I stared back in dread, legs refusing to move. The stalemate continued until confidence kicked in and I found some strength in my legs. I rushed away from the multi-legged monster and down into the layered protection of the warm nest. Deep I went and lay there. I worried it would look for me, but it surprisingly didn’t.

However, that was enough excitement for one night. Heart told me to leave, and my mind laughed at the proposition.

Where are you planning to go? It’s the middle of the night. My inner voice said. I couldn’t argue.

The night didn’t belong to us ants. I was starting to doubt whether even day belonged to us or not. And it was safe in there, warm and protected. I didn’t think any smaller predator would risk coming close to the nest while the sky predator slept inside. Eventually, morning came and the night passed uneventfully.