It is in the dim light of the midnight sun that you rise for your daily meal. You swim up with the rest of your brethren, one of millions looking to feast in the waters above. You filter the water near the surface, eating until you’re full and green, your translucent body showing the signs of a breakfast well eaten. When you finish, you sink down to let others come through to the buffet.

You are an Antarctic Krill living in the waters of the Southern Ocean. It’s summer time, and the surface of the ocean is always light. Your days are spent feeding, swimming, and-

whoosh

A penguin speeds by, and your instincts kick in. You lobster away, flicking your tail towards your abdomen to propel yourself as far away from the penguin’s path as possible and towards safety. It’s not over, though, as more penguins continue to slice through the cloud of krill, getting their own dinner.

Penguins are just one type of predator you evade on a daily basis. Threats come from land, sea, and air as a number of species attempt to pick you and the others off. Your biggest defense against them is to just keep moving.

The whales tend to be harder to dodge. Your best hope is that you are already on the edge of its path. For some birds, simply swimming further down is your salvation. But in the end, you just have to keep moving.

Predators aren’t the only thing you worry about. Sometimes you find yourself in shallow water that is rapidly becoming shallower. In the dark season, less food often means going without for long periods of time.

So far, though, you’ve survived any and all threats for the last three years. None of it has prepared you for what’s coming.

A large, dark shadow is cast over the colony as a large thing passes overhead. It moves slowly, gently pushing the water out of its way. You go with the flow, moving as the water does. As you look towards its wake, you notice the strange behavior of other krill.

They appear to be clumping together more than usual. Others try to flee, only to be caught in the mass. You decide to get out of the path as quickly as you can.

You narrowly escape joining the mass when you see what is actually happening. Some sort of mesh is moving through the water and capturing krill as it goes. More krill than what a whale would take in a single pass are being rolled together into this mesh. There’s nothing you can do but watch as it is eventually dragged up onto the big thing that had passed overhead.

Unlike other predators, it doesn’t come back that day. It seems to have taken its fill and left. You go about your day as usual, but with a bit more caution in your tail stroke.

As your day ends, you sink to the depths below to rest. You let the flickering green light of the others in your colony lull you to sleep.