“Is this really the chosen one?” the barbarian scoffed, her voice booming like thunder as she loomed over the tiny figure trembling on the summoning platform.
The rogue leaned in, her sharp grin cutting through the tension. “I mean, he’s cute, in a squishy, pathetic sort of way. Like a stress toy. Maybe we can chuck him at the demon king and see if he gets distracted?”
The mage, her wide eyes filled with a mix of confusion and pity, knelt down, her massive breasts practically eclipsing the poor guy. “Oh, I’m so sorry! We were supposed to summon the chosen one, but… um… well… are you the chosen one?”
Mere moments before the room was filled with a swirl of confusion and magic. The summoning circle glowed brightly, the three women standing around it with bated breath. Aella crossed her arms, her impatience barely contained. Lyra twirled her dagger lazibly, though her sharp eyes were locked on the swirling energy. Mira clutched her staff, her expression a mix of hope and anxiety.
"Alright, here we go," Mira said, her voice trembling slightly. "The chosen one should appear... now!"
The circle erupted in a burst of light and smoke, the room filling with the acrid scent of burning incense. Aella waved a hand in front of her face, coughing. "Ugh, could’ve done without the theatrics."
As the smoke began to clear, the women peered into the center of the platform, their expressions shifting from anticipation to confusion.
"Uh..." Mira tilted her head, squinting. "Where’s the chosen one?"
Lyra stepped closer, her dagger still twirling. "Maybe he’s invisible. Or shy. Or maybe the ritual failed."
"Failed?!" Aella barked, her voice shaking the walls. "Do you have any idea how much mana we burned for this?!"
Mira, ever the optimist, stepped onto the platform to inspect it more closely. "Wait, maybe he’s just small? Like a fairy or a spirit or—"
Her words cut off as her boot crunched down on something soft and squishy. She froze, her face twisting in disgust. "Eww! What did I step in?!"
Lifting her foot, she grimaced, checking the sole of her boot for whatever unfortunate object she’d squished. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw a tiny, human-shaped smear on the bottom of her sole. "Oh no," she whispered. "Oh no, oh no, oh no!"
The smudge shifted, the tiny form groaning pitifully. Mira’s hands flew to her mouth, her face turning bright red. "Oh my gods! I stepped on the chosen one?!"
Back to the current moment, the three women were staring at the now very alive, very squishy, and very traumatized Max. Mira’s expression was a mix of guilt and panic, while Lyra burst into uncontrollable laughter. Aella just rolled her eyes and muttered, "Great. We’re doomed."
The young man blinked, his mind racing. One moment, he’d been in his apartment, scrolling through social media, and the next—poof—he was here, in this strange, glowing room surrounded by three towering women who looked like they’d stepped out of a fantasy RPG. And to make matters worse, he was… small. Like, really small. Three inches small.
“I—I think there’s been a mistake,” he stammered, his voice squeaky and unsure.
The barbarian crossed her muscular arms, her biceps flexing as her gaze narrowed. “A mistake? A mistake? We’ve been trying to summon the chosen one for weeks! Do you have any idea how much mana we’ve wasted on you?”
The rogue snickered, poking him with the tip of her dagger. “I mean, look at him. He’s not exactly hero material. What’s he gonna do? Bite the demon king’s ankles?”
The mage, ever the optimist, clapped her hands together, her breasts jiggling dangerously. “Come on, guys! Don't be so pessimistic! I know that I cast the spell perfectly, so he must be the chosen one! Just uhh, try to look past the fact that the chosen one is only a few inches tall.”
The young man gulped, feeling like he was in a very bad dream. “Uh, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I think I’d like to go home now.”
The barbarian let out a snort of disgust. “Home? You’re stuck here, buddy. Unless you’ve got some hidden power we don’t know about, you’re about as useful as a wet sock.”
The young man hesitated, looking down at his tiny, squishy body. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but he did feel… different. Like he wasn’t entirely solid. Tentatively, he pressed a finger into his arm, and to his shock, it sank in like it was made of clay.
The rogue’s eyes lit up. “Whoa, did you see that? He’s squishy!”
The mage gasped, clapping her hands again. “Oh my goodness, he is! Maybe the chosen one isn't a fighter, but a support!”
The barbarian raised an eyebrow. “A what now?”
The mage beamed, her excitement bubbling over. “You know, like in those old legends! There was once a hero who could transform into a magical cloak that granted the wearer incredible strength! Maybe he’s like that!”
The rogue smirked, leaning in closer. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. Hey, squishy, can you turn into something?”
The young man hesitated, his mind racing. This was insane. Absolutely insane. But what choice did he have? He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused. To his amazement, he felt his body start to shift, his form melting and reshaping itself until he was… an earring. A tiny hoop earring.
The rogue burst out laughing. “Oh, this is too good! He’s a piece of jewelry!”
The barbarian rolled her eyes. “Great. An earring. Just what we need.”
The mage, however, was practically bouncing with excitement. “Oh, this is wonderful! Here, let me try him on!” She carefully picked him up and clipped him onto her earlobe. The moment she did, a surge of energy rushed through her, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my, I feel… stronger! Faster! Like I could cast a spell twice as powerful as before!”
The rogue’s smirk widened. “Well, well, looks like squishy here might actually be useful after all.”
The barbarian grunted, crossing her arms again. “Fine. But he’s not staying on your ear. We’ve got a quest to finish, and if anyone gets to wear him, it's me. Here, give him over.”
She unclasped him from the mage's ear and promptly shoved him onto her own. The young woman gasped as he felt her raw power coursing through him, her strength and endurance magnifying as he clung to her ear.
“Huh,” the barbarian said, flexing her biceps with increased strength. “Not bad. Guess he’s not completely useless after all.”
The rogue grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, I can think of a few ways to put him to use. Hey, squishy, how about you turn into something a little more… interesting?”
The young man’s heart raced as he stared up at the rogue’s devious grin. This was not how he expected his day to go. But one thing was clear: he was in for one hell of an adventure.
The summoning had been a mess from the start. The adventurers—Aella the barbarian, Lyra the rogue, and Mira the mage—had been desperate. Their quest to defeat the ancient demon king threatening their kingdom was going nowhere, and they were running out of options. The summoning ritual was supposed to bring forth the chosen one, a hero of unparalleled power who could turn the tide in their favor.
But instead, they got him.
“So let me get this straight,” Aella said, glaring down at the tiny figure. “You’re not the chosen one.”
The young man shook his head nervously. “No, I… uhh don't think so. I mean, I don't feel like the chosen one. I just feel like a really, really tiny guy.”
“A tiny guy with a squishy body,” Lyra added, poking him again. “Which is weird, but also kind of hilarious.”
Mira frowned for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I know it seems ridiculous, but I felt the power when I put him on. And I know that you felt it too, Aella! He might not be what we expected but he might be exactly what we need to help us defeat the demon king!”
Aella groaned. "I was expecting a fellow warrior. A man with the strength capable of fighting side by side with me against the demon king and his legions of followers. Not some three inch tall pipsqueak who might be able to buff our stats up slightly."
You cowered beneath the intimidating gaze of the barbarian behemoth woman. Her body a head taller than the mage and practically twice as tall as the more petite rogue of the group. Her body was an equal parts blend of larger than life muscles as well as comically oversized curves. You wouldn't be able to tell based on her commanding presence and confidence, but Aella actually disliked her generous curves, often believing that her prominent breasts and ass inhibit her fighting abilities.
"Chill out, Aella!" Lyra said, a brief uncharacteristic moment of what sounded like compassion, before she continued. "Don't be so harsh to the little guy. Worst case scenario the little squishy chosen one can be your chosen sweat rag if he gets in the way more than he helps."
Aella raised an eyebrow and the faintest hint of a smile crossed her face, before Mira interjected “Alright, Lyra, maybe you're right. But for now, we’ve got a demon king to kill."
Mira clapped her hands together, her excitement undiminished. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait to see what else he can do!”
The young man took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever came next. He was small, squishy, and completely out of his element. But one thing was certain: he was about to become the most versatile accessory in the history of adventuring.
And as Lyra’s devious grin widened, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was in way over his head…
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