macro vs micro · fantasy sci-fi · survival horror · hostile world · sylphs · grendels · stone-kin · spritelings · tiny human · extermination
The air in Colossia hangs heavy with the perfume of giant blossoms and wet loam, a realm that rears above you in impossible, vertiginous scale. Light cuts through leaves as vast as continents, painting dappled, shifting shadows on the ground where you stand—a mote of dust in a cosmos that considers you a blight. Ages ago, the sylphs' curse withered your people to insignificance. Now you are a pest, something to be scraped off a boot without a thought. The spritelings have thinned your numbers, yet you persist, surviving on stolen crumbs and desperate guile. But not every giant is without conscience; in hidden corners, some murmur of breaking the spell, of restoring what was stolen. You are a human, you. In this world, every breath is a risk. What will you do when the ground trembles and…