Your ant courier enters a virtual highway of its kindred, but its pinchers never give up on their quest of reducing you to halves. Fortunately, the upper body of your suit is rated to withstand 4th class particle fire and 5th class laser emissions. Unfortunately that didn't keep it from caving in beneath the pressure effectively reducing your lung capacity to a toddler's. When you try to kick out of the insect's grip, it shakes you violently expelling all your precious air in the process.
By the time you see the first funnel rising on the horizon, you're fighting for every tiny breath. You look about in an attempt to grasp your surroundings, but they are simply to titanic to understand. All you know is that the hive's main entrance is built up from a valley of sand between two gray nondescript plains that extended out to infinite. Above, you see a white cliff whose summit lays beyond sight and distant black towers that converge on an elliptical shadow the size of a thunderhead. 'None of this makes any sense,' you bemoan actually wishing now for the clarity of a shoe slamming down right next to you, at least then you'd be sure about your predicament.
The ant carries you up and over the rim of the funnel and then you are in the crawling, chittering, dark. They share the tunnels like true comunards squeezing past one another sometimes three by three, and exchanging closely felt nuzzles. Your stuck in the middle of these olfactory greetings and get probed each time by the others antennae, their cold jabbing touch never failing to send shivers down your spine. After literally hundreds of such 'inspections' you are suddenly and unceremoniously dropped. You almost forget you can now breath and when you do it is a gasp. Around you is...
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