What will happen?
I don't know! Completely unpredictable! Is it total destruction ahead, or... a glimmer of hope for escape?
But what does it matter?
Instead of passively waiting to be silently digested by the "master," I'd rather launch an all-out charge upwards.
Even if I am a moth drawn to a flame, I must see the true face of the fire before I burn.
So, I used all the strength left in my body, gathered all the uncorroded will, and clung tightly to the "thread" that belonged to me overhead.
The thread was more tangible than I imagined, with a slippery yet tough texture.
I began to climb.
This was not climbing in the physical sense, but more like an ascent of will, a soul swimming against the current along the line of destiny.
I was like a pitifully small insect, climbing resolutely and proactively along the silk implanted by a predator towards the gaping mouth awaiting it.
All senses turned inward, and all thoughts concentrated into one:
