The bird was skeptical. It was supposed to trust Ackster? It wasn't so sure about that. But it could trust Mio, at least more than it could trust Ackster. The bird wasn't at ease.
However, it was a creature that lived for speed. Through speed, it lived. The bird survived and hunted by going fast, so fast that no other being could catch up or react. The bird could fly so fast that not even it could properly react to its own top speed. All it could go on when flying at those speeds was instinct.
And instincts didn't have time for thoughts. Without thoughts, there were no worries.
The bird's mind calmed as it devoted itself to flapping its wings and pushing itself forward faster, faster, and faster.
Ackster's weight made it more difficult, and each cycle of flaps by its four pairs of wings was accompanied by a heavy breath. But the continuous and endless stream of wingflaps, thanks to its eight wings, kept building the bird's speed.
