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(TATB) Ch 8: The Climb Beyond The Mountains
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 01:25:56 +0000 UTC(Vu)
I led the rush through the surging, warm water, the heat of it pushing us back with every step. The current nearly swept us away, but we pressed forward, feet sinking into the soft white surface beneath us. Behind me, Nemu, Sawyer, and Avery struggled too, their faces tense as we made our way toward the towering pillars in the distance. The toes—her toes—loomed ahead of us, a mountain range of flesh. Each one was massive, ridged with skin prints deep enough to offer us a chance at survival.
I glanced up, and the sight stopped me cold. Her legs stretched up and up, seeming to go on forever. I could barely make out the curve of her crotch, miles and miles in the air, only visible through the gaps between her mighty thighs. Her breasts hung like two enormous hills above, hiding her face from view. She was vast, a living monument, and the scale of her body was so overwhelming it made me dizzy. Every inch of her was a landscape of skin, warm and glistening from the water that had begun to rain down in small droplets from above.
We reached her toes, each one easily the size of a skyscraper to us, and I realized there was no time to hesitate. The water was rising behind us, growing into a churning ocean, and soon it would swallow us whole if we didn't start climbing. I threw myself at the nearest toe, digging my hands into the ridges of her skin. The prints offered some grip, but the texture was still soft, and the heat radiating from her flesh made the climb all the more exhausting.
"Go! Go!" I yelled, waving the others to follow. Nemu scrambled up beside me, her breathing heavy as she fought to find handholds in the slick skin. Behind her, Sawyer grunted as he hauled himself up, every movement slow and deliberate. Avery was last, her face pale with fear.
The climb was brutal. Her skin was slippery, and each step up felt like dragging ourselves over a living mountain. I could feel the muscles beneath her flesh twitching with each movement, making it harder to find solid footing. The water kept rising, crashing against the base of her toes, and every time I glanced down, it was closer.
"Hold on!" I shouted. "We can make it!"
The rain of water from above was relentless, giant droplets falling like bombs, splattering against her skin and turning into smaller sprays that made it almost impossible to keep our grip. My arms burned as I kept pulling myself upward, fingers digging into the ridges of her toe. I could hear Sawyer panting behind me, his breaths sharp and shallow, while Nemu gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep climbing.
Then, without warning, the ground beneath us shook violently.
"What's happening?!" Avery screamed, her voice filled with panic.
I barely had time to react before the wall of skin we were clinging to surged upward. It was like being launched into the sky, the ground beneath us rocketing hundreds of feet in an instant. My stomach dropped as we flew, my hands scrambling to keep hold as we soared, only to come crashing down again. The impact knocked the wind out of me, my grip barely holding as I slammed back into her skin.
"My god!" Nemu shouted, her voice shaking. "I think she's wiggling her toes!"
Her toes kept wiggling, the subtle shift of her muscles sending us up and down in terrifying bursts. Each time her skin rose beneath us, we were thrown into the air, and when it fell, we were slammed back against her flesh. It was impossible to stay steady. I looked down just in time to see Avery's fingers slipping.
"I'm losing my grip!" she cried, her voice thick with fear.
"Just hold on, Avery!" I shouted, but I could see it happening—her fingers losing their hold, her body dangling for a moment before she fell.
"No!!!" Nemu screamed as Avery tumbled through the air, her body crashing into the water below. She disappeared beneath the surface, and then the Brob's massive toes came down, smashing into the water with a deafening crash.
Avery was gone. Crushed.
"She's gone," Nemu whispered, her voice hollow. "Avery is gone."
***
(Skylar)
The water poured over me, warm and soothing, washing away the grime and sweat from the day. I closed my eyes, letting the steady stream fall over my face, cascade down my shoulders, and spread across my skin. It felt good—more than good, like a release. My muscles relaxed under the weight of it, my mind drifting.
I thought about them, the Lilliputians I left back on my desk. It was still surreal, having them there. I could hardly believe it when I first saw them, so small, so fragile. I had known about Lilliputians for as long as I could remember—heard stories, seen the news, seen the fear in people's eyes when they spoke about the divide between our worlds. But actually having them, seeing them with my own eyes? That was different. It felt real now in a way I hadn't expected.
What were they feeling right now, I wondered? Sitting there, waiting for me to return. Were they scared? They had to be. How could they not be? My kind... we had taken so much from them. So many lives lost, so much suffering caused by us Brobdingnagians. We were titans to them—gods or monsters, depending on how you looked at it. I'd heard the stories, seen the images of Lilliputian cities crumbling under the weight of my people's careless steps. Could I blame them for fearing me?
But that's not what I wanted. I didn't want to be another reminder of everything that had gone wrong between our worlds. I wanted to do something different. I wanted to give them something better than fear. But the question that nagged at me, that twisted in my gut as the water ran down my body, was whether that was even possible. Could I really make up for all the harm? For the lives my people had destroyed, for the families that had been torn apart?
"I have to try," I whispered to myself, barely hearing my own voice over the sound of the shower.
It was the least I could do, right? I had this chance—this small, fragile chance—to show them that not all Brobs were monsters, that we weren't all blind to their pain. Maybe I couldn't undo what had been done, but I could start something new. A small kindness in the vast ocean of hurt that had been created between us. It wasn't much. But maybe it could be enough, at least for them.
The water continued to pour over me, warming me, grounding me as I stood there thinking about the responsibility I had taken on. I felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves—this was my moment to do something right, something that might matter, and I was ready to embrace it. But beneath that, I felt the weight of my kind's legacy hanging over me, like a shadow I couldn't shake. Could I be the exception? Could I really make a difference?
I had to believe I could. Because if I didn't try, then what hope did any of us have?
