From the look of it, one would be forgiven for believing a terrorist attack had just taken place. New Metro City was wont to witness such events every now and again, and considering the flipped cars, broken windows, and ripped-up asphalt, that seemed by all rights to be the case. However, the vibe said otherwise; rather than any police or paramedics, a large and casual crowd had assembled on the street instead. Better yet, a crowd in which most members were either shouting variations on “Worldstar!”, whistling, recording with their phones the bout that was soon to unfold, and even trying in vain to collect impromptu bets on the outcome of the coming fight from other viewers. These, however, were no ordinary combatants if their eccentric outfits were any indication.

In one corner, the star-studded, spandex-clad space cop herself, Carol Danvers stood (or, well, floated) quite loud and quite proud. Cracking her knuckles, the immovable Captain Marvel quipped, “Can we kick your butt quickly? I’ve gotta go feed my cat!”

Opposite her, stalwart and taciturn, the enigmatic Ryu tightened his headband as he assumed a rock-solid stance, readying himself for battle: “I can’t let myself get in the way of what I must do.”

Who will come out on top?!

Ready?

Fight!

An incorporeal voice was the capstone to this banter, as the Announcer marked the beginning of this good-natured battle of wills, fists, and fireballs. Wasting no time, Captain Marvel unleashed photon blast after photon blast, barely knicking the strong-yet-silent Japanese brawler who blocked them with ease. Dodging and weaving, Ryu remained cool under Captain Marvel’s endless onslaught, inching forward whenever possible, shrinking back when it was unsafe, and continuously responding with the occassional fireball in retaliation, always with his textbook exclamation of “Hadoken!” before his patience and timing paid off. With a flourish, Ryu rapidly closed the remainder of the gap with a well-timed Hurricane Kick before entrapping Captain Marvel in a tumultuous Shin Shoryuken. Sparks flew and the crowd cheered as Ryu planted his fist squarely beneath the slack jaw of Captain Marvel’s astonishingly annoyed face, before leaping into the air with a beam of light and an unfathomable blast of raw Ki energy.

BOOM!

…

Just a block away, fresh from patronizing the newly-built bubble tea joint on Seventh, a young, fresh-faced Kamala Khan was preparing to return home early. Sundays were her self-appointed days off, after all – from both school obligations and hero work. But as she turned the corner, a sudden BOOM stopped her.

“Huh?” Looking left and right, another CRASH resounded, and the ethereal beam of pure blue energy behind the nearby corner store was a surefire way to locate where it came from.

“Trouble!” Kamala announced, and – ensuring to take a hearty sip of her boba first – she quickly tore free from her tight-fitting jean pants and denim jacket, revealing her signature thunderbolt insignia that emblazoned her chest. Her elastic blue dress and red boots were the next to reveal themselves, complimenting her red scarf perfectly as it billowed in the wind with dramatic abandon. Fully embracing her heroic identity of the one and only Ms. Marvel, she afforded a sparing thought to the discarded clothing. Man, I need a real job… it’s tough replacing jeans every time.

And with a running start, she stretched her rubbery arms up to the nearest rooftop and grabbed hold of the balcony, before sliiiingshotting her way above it with an ear-splitting THWAAAP! to the closest signs of danger.

…

“Aw, yeah! Whoo-hoooo!” Pumping her fist, the tomboyish schoolgirl grinned as the match unfolded. The young spectator studied every spare frame of the bout, paying close attention to the most seemingly-insignificant decisions made by either fighter, and jotting them down for her mental library. Training was as much about studyingas it was about practicing, and there was much to study in this fight. Blow after blow was being exchanged, and though Ryu got an early head start, Captain Marvel was quick to reorient herself and close the gap, once again bringing the match into a neutral position.

Sakura cupped her hands and shouted louder than anyone there, “You go, Ryu! Kick her ass!”

A gloved hand planted itself on her shoulder, and Sakura paused, glancing up to the tall woman beside her wreathed in dragon armor. With stately purpose, the Monster Hunter offered to Sakura, “That’s quite brash of you. Try to compose yourself; we’re guests in this country, and I only brought you because I believed the experience would be beneficial.”

Suddenly mortified, Sakura Kasugano offered a bow to her temporary mentor in this extracurricular study-abroad trip, saying, “G-gomennasai!” Sweating a bit, Sakura returned to the match and sputtered out a half-hearted “Uh, I hope both fighters do great!”

“Stop right there, evil-doers!”

Amidst the din of cheering, conversation, and blasts made of nebulous elemental composition, this odd address of unidentifiable ne’er-do-wells caught the attention of Sakura, the Hunter, and everyone engaged with the battle. Even Ryu and Captain Marvel turned their heads at the rambunctious salutation, despite Ryu currently gripping the superhero in a bear-hug grab.

It was difficult to spot, but her bright-red flowing scarf was able to draw enough eyes to the girl standing atop a nearby building, arms crossed as she glared down at the scene, practically vibrating with excitement. As she stretched, preparing to enter the fray, a stray glance at the combat scene caused the junior hero to stop her spiel dead in its tracks.

There. In the grip of that… burly man… was none other than…

“Carol Danvers?!”

All pretense of melodrama and heroism now out the window, Kamala Khan took a running leap off the rooftop, somersaulting as she activated her powers of elasticity, rotating in the air several times. Her body rippled and stretched, and the confused crowd parted in a chaotic wave as Kamala executed a perfect three-point landing that shook the surrounding towers to their very foundations. When the dust settled and Kamala arose to her full height, the astonished crowd cheered at her expanded frame, now roughly 300 feet tall, and cracking her knuckles as she eyed Ryu, still encasing Ms. Danvers in his grip.

“Oh jeez…” groaned Captain Marvel, summoning her enhanced strength to break free just as Kamala Khan reared to launch a mighty kick. Ryu, always stalwart in the face of a challenge, turned to face the front toe of Kamala’s crimson boot, right before it slammed into him at mach speeds, launching the street fighter through several city-blocks’ worth of high-rise apartments.

Far away from the safety of the crowd, both Sakura and the Hunter gasped, with Sakura covering her mouth in astonishment. “RYU?!” she exclaimed. Her idol, her mentor, her teacher? Simply chucked into the next county like a wayward football? Not on her watch!

The Hunter on the other hand, sighed soon after. “He’s fine… I’ll go get him – hey, wait!”

Sakura was already halfway through the crowd, having grabbed the Hunter’s insect-glaive staff on the way out. She yelled back a rather lame, “I’ll, uh, I’ll get this back to you after the match!”

“Wh-what the, what match?!” shouted the Hunter, before realization dawned on her face.

“Oh no…”

Whistling, the Hunter summoned a nearby wingdrake – a small Pterosaur used for rapid transportation in the New World. Latching onto it with her grappling hook, she took to the skies, preparing to follow Sakura as she burst into the arena, already fiddling with the weapon’s main attachment: the Kinsect.

Living attachments with the ability to bestow the wielders of these weapons with enhanced strength, speed, and defense, Sakura saw in the Kinsect an ability that might be able to allow her to restore order to this honorable match of wills. The giant teenage girl and the significantly smaller superhero who was currently yelling at her paid no mind as Sakura entered the wide-open swathe of street that composed the fighting stage. Good. Standing in Kamala’s shadow, Sakura charged the Kinsect by focusing her Ki, before allowing it to fly free, coating Sakura in its powered-up essence.

The effect was immediate and exhilarating.

“Whoa…” said Sakura, looking down at her body as she began to expand in all directions. Grinning, she prepared her stance upon reaching full size; “Time for a little payback!”

…

“Stand down, soldier,” said Captain Marvel with an authoritative glare at the billboard-sized visage of her protege before her. She floated around Kamala, glowing gold like a pixie as Kamala pouted.

“You were getting thrashed! I saved you!”

“Saved me? First of all, it was an exhibition match. Second of all, I had him on the ropes!”

“I don’t know, but being caught in a bear-hug and getting uppercut by blue columns of light does not sound like ‘having him on the ropes’ to me.” Kamala made sure to punctuate the last bit with air-quotes.

Back and forth they bickered, tunnel visioning as they forgot about the buildings, the city streets, the cars, the spectators, simply focusing their vitriolic affection on one another until, like a jolt of lightning, Kamala realized something was incoming.

“Watch out!” she yelled, ducking.

Captain Marvel, still suspended in the air, barely registered the command from her subordinate, only to be slammed by a gloved, glowing, gargantuan gauntlet. She was sent flying, making an ironically-placed Carol Danvers-shaped hole just beside the Ryu-shaped one in the nearby condominium, before blazing across the horizon like a brilliant shooting star.

Ms. Marvel witnessed this evisceration of her master and felt… frankly, as indignant as she was, she was more confused than anything. Rising to full height, she saw as the fist retracted back into a defensive pose. Said fist belonged to a colossal girl, likely similar in age to Kamala herself if her school outfit was any indication. Aside from her size and pose, the only tells that she was a fighter were her red headband, flowing in the wind beneath her windswept short brown hair in a mirror to Kamala’s own crimson scarf.

“What the?! Who are you?”

The mysterious stranger placed one hand on her hip and pointed at Kamala, fire in her eyes as she recited, “The name is Sakura Kasugano! I hope you’re ready; since my master isn’t here to clobber you, I’ll do it myself!”

“Master…” Kamala tapped her boot before responding in mock-awe, “Ohhh, you mean that big loser I just knocked into next week? If he’s your master, I would suggest changing majors.”

As Kamala covered her mouth sheepishly, proud of her quip, Sakura gasped.

“The nerve! A-and I don’t suppose that walking talking glowstick I just punched into the next zip code taught you anything about etiquette!”

The pair’s argument once again reverberated through the entire city block, and the crowd was getting impatient. One small nerdy voice cheered up from the mass of people, “Hey, why don’t the two of you just fight to settle this?”

Kamala glanced down at the crowd. “What?”

“You are in a fighting arena.”

Kamala looked around. Despite the general infrastructure damage, the open street-way was more or less perfect for battling in a wide space. How their sizes would affect this remained to be seen, but clearly there wasn’t going to be a peaceful way to resolve this conflict anytime soon.

Glancing at Sakura from the side, Kamala said, “Well… I guess I’m down. You?”

Sakura tightened her headband and posed dramatically. “Anytime, anyplace! I just hope you know, I play for keeps!”

“Noted,” Kamala said, offering her hand to Sakura, who clutched it.

The deal was struck, and the two skyscraper-sized girls retreated to opposite ends of the stadium as they prepared for battle, awaiting some sort of cue to begin the fair match. This was a responsibility the unseen male-coded announcer decided to vaguely take upon themselves, despite his apparent confusion as his disembodied voice boomed across the city.

Uh, who will come out on top?

Kamala vs. Sakura! I guess!

Kamala Khan raised a finger at no-one in particular, voicing out, “Um, can you not use my real name? My superhero name is Ms –”

SLAM!

The young heroine hadn’t the time to fully announce herself, as Sakura had already been primed for a mighty front-facing kick, and wasted no time allowing it to unfold, slamming and subsequently lodging her sneakered foot directly into the abdomen of the elastic Pakistani.

“OOOMPH!”

The entire city heard Ms. Marvel’s yelp as she was launched backward, barely able to stay standing as her own boots carved a path through the city streets. And yet, Sakura wasn’t finished; she slid in. Her fancy footwork was rapid, continuously changing poses, hopping from one to another, and staying on the move as she delivered quick jab after quick jab. Even at these gargantuan sizes, it was clear that her control over her body and movement was absolutely unparalleled.In one shift that accidentally obliterated a hot dog stand beneath her shoe, Sakura elbowed Kamala’s face and launching a meteoric fireball at her opponent, comboing into another low-sweeping kick. As the singed Kamala stuttered and fell, Sakura dove in, catching Kamala’s jaw square in her fist before leaping upwards in a lunging uppercut.

Bringing Kamala with her as Sakuraleft the ground, the pair of giantesses flew into the air, spiraling fantabulously as Sakura’s Ki energy trailed from her movement. Kamala, caught utterly off guard, went entirely slack as she was sent flying, her weight and size giving her a movement profile more akin to a deflated balloon as she reached the apex of her arc nearly a thousand sky-high feet into the air, before she began to fall once again.

CRAAAAASH!

The nearby bank building could no more withstand the impact of Ms. Marvel’s awesome size and momentum than could a sandcastle subsist before the awesome might of a tidal wave. It crumbled and exploded from her impact, as puny and incorporeal as the monetary systems the building deigned to represent. The collapsing dust cloud was so thick as to appear opaque, and Ms. Marvel was nowhere to be seen.

Sakura, too, landed. First on her two feet, then on her feet and hands as her fatigue caught up to her, each impact causing a new geologic quake. Taking a minute to collect herself, the giant schoolgirl arose.

“Ha… ha…” Sakura panted, observed her handiwork with her arms crossed, tapping her foot in earthquake-simulating undulations with a smirk on her face. She’d worked up a good sweat, the droplets of which were now leaking from her forehead and the backs of her knees. They splattered on the hot pavement; those still brave enough to stand close to her now had to jump away to avoid their steamy explosions.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura tightened her finger-less red gloves as she shouted indignantly, “That was for interrupting the match the first time!”

The bustle of cheers and clicks and whistles that immediately followed her display startled Sakura, and she glanced down.

“Hm?”

Around her feet, still in tense bunches, dozens and dozens of the spectators were now snapping images and taking video of her. And their angle, though flattering, wasn’t exactly something Sakura was comfortable with.

Pulling her skirt down, Sakura adopted a sheepish grin, lightly dragging the sole of her shoe across the cracked pavement in an effort to disperse the bug-like photographers. “Please, uh, would you mind…”

Rock sliding over rough rock caused the photography to pause, and Sakura turned her head. Before her, in the rapidly dispersing cloud of ash and dust that now housed the remains of the banking building, a particularly large chunk of the top several floors was poking its corner from the miasma, wobbling a bit, as though held up only through great effort. Then, it launched outward.

Fists glowing, Sakura threw a well-timed punch at the incoming projectile, shattering it into a million floating pieces of dust, falling to the ground in smaller bits that still yet caused the crowd to gently scatter away. But as the dust settled before Sakura, out of it stood Kamala Khan, still big as a skyscraper. Her suit had sustained a not-insignificant amount of damage – several rips and splits in the otherwise stretchy material, as well as some ruptures in her sleeves and boots – but even as she heaved and panted, in her eyes was rock-solid determination.

“Back for more, aren’t ya?” Sakura asked, once again adopting her combat stance, ready to either attack or defend. And yet, in the back of her mind, an alarm was blaring. Much of her effort had already been expended on that one dramatic initial attack! She wanted to show off how much she’d learned, and in doing so, she had used up her power to unleash every trick she had left! It would be difficult to comeback from an even neutral at this point.

“Let’s just say, you can call me the mailman, because I’m about to return you to sender!” Kamala replied, pointing. She then groaned, and said more to herself than to the entire city block that could hear her, “No, no! C’mon, that’s stupid.”

Shaking it off, Kamala had slammed one fist into the other, increasing pressure until the both of them cartoonishly blew up in size like balloons. Her sleeves were already barely holding together, but now, with a stationaryleap, she clicked her heels and did the same thing to her feet, landing on utterly massive, disproportionately-sized boots that completely popped from the impact, leaving her enormous feet bare on the grassy courtyard as their garb fell in rubber strips on the ground. Her boost in foot size had, among other things, caused her to appear several sizes above Sakura in height. Her massive feet now covered two-and-a-half times the surface area they once did, and would have given Kamala a 6-inch boost over Sakura had the two been normal sized. Scrunching her boulder-like toes just a bit, Kamala sighed, “Now I gotta replace mycostume too? There has to be a more cost-efficient way to dress for a growing hero these days…” Nevertheless, Kamala shifted into her own solid pose, putting up a solid defense with fists like wrecking balls.

Sakura gulped as she maintained her pose. “F-f-for Ryu,” she recited.

The second round began.

Sakura again tried to close distance. With several rapid side-steps and lunges, she reasoned that if she was quick enough, she may be able to subdue Ms. Marvel before the battle was drawn out to an inconvenient length.

But Kamala was ready.

Utilizing her elasticity, Kamala herself launched a ranged punch directly into Sakura’s own gut, the pair’s competing momentum launching Sakura backwards. She skid on the rough asphalt and carved two ridged trails with her shoes that uprooted several parked cars, flailing out her arms and nearly falling before retaining her balance. Sakura wanted to cough, but lacked the time as she was forced to dodge yet another punch. And then another. Like cannonballs, Kamala’s fists were gunning at Sakura, again, and again, and every movement Sakura made had to be on the defensive.

Sakura was remaining safe, by hairs, though the same couldn’t be said for those potentially caught in the crossfire. The wind alone from Kamala’s bulletpunches was enough to nearly sweep some people away; a missed haymaker could slam clean through the facade of a building. Sakura’s artful dodges would cause many a hot-dog stand to fall victim to her sneakers once again. But despite the carnage, the crowd beneath the two was as committed to documenting the match as ever – it had grown even larger in fact! What went from a common street fight had an audience more akin to a basketball game, with clear sides having developed between those who’d given their hearts to the Japanese sailor girl, vs those who were devoted to the Pakistani-American heroine. Even the buildings and residences that hadn’t yet been destroyed were inundated with balconies wherein people had set up lawn chairs and were cheering and whistling at the titanic, taxpayer-funded tussle.

Sakura tried her best to pay them no mind, focusing only on her breathing. However, even that was becoming a struggle; her stamina was impressive, but this was Sakura’s first outing as a giantess. She had no clue how the other girl managed to carry so much weight so often. All the way down from her forehead to her calves, the droplets of Sakura’s perspiration were coalescing into a thin sheen, coating the spectators in Sakura’s own scent with each lunge and missed Hurricane Kick, not completely unlike an actual hurricane. Kamala on the other hand was breathing in a drawn-out and composed manner that even Sakura found admirable. She had little combat technique, but her tenacity and raw strength, and her control over herself… Sakura would have to ask about her training regimen after the match.

If Kamala’s fists were like cannon balls, then her kicks were like battering rams. Interspersed with her heavy-hitting punches, she would combo into a lunge of immense power, rupturing Sakura’s defense with one or two blows. The increased size of her foot meant more surface area, and therefore she was delivering more kinetic energy into the enlarged girl’s frame. This also meant less pressure; at this size, Sakura would tire more quickly from blocking Kamala’s attacks, but the damage would be reduced. That said, Sakura still had to be wary of the toes themselves, each packing a significant amount of punch and pressure whenever all five of them were able to lodge themselves into Sakura’s gut.

Kamala, knowledgeable in physics she was, thought of this with each blow she landed on Sakura, one after another, after another. Like her assailant, she too was beginning to feel the fatigue; fighting while embiggened was difficult enough. Doing so with limbs the size of literal houses – if not larger – was an entirely new level of struggle. And while Sakura’s own clothing was quite liberating and ventilated, the official Ms. Marvel uniform was a bit more conservative. Sealed into her own rupturing body-suit, Kamala was feeling the heat, and it pooled even more intensely with every exhausted pant and every heave of breath. Thankfully, her exposed feet and hands brought just a bit of reprieve and allowed the breezy winds to cool her off; they were less saturated and held only the more earthy fragrances of agar and biryani and general everyday life in the Desi teen’s household. Nevertheless, once again the crowd would be treated to the showers of spray flinging from her bodice and fertilizing the busy city streets below.

“You can’t beat me!” growled Kamala, her exhaustion and drive finally beginning to override her more jovial manner. “Give up!” she yelled, sending one explosive punch straight at Sakura’s face, which –

to everybody’s surprise –

Sakura was able to counter.

With an expert parry, Sakura caught the fist in her gloved hand, using its weight and momentum to launch Kamala overhead in a dramatic somersault. Ms. Marvel once again went flying, screaming as she was delivered headfirst into a nearby shopping center, utterly demolishing it in a shower of ash and rubble.

As the Sakura stans cheered on their girl, Sakura herself collapsed to the ground with a rock-solid thoomp! The dust that coated her skirt created a cloud that forced the closest spectators away in coughing fits, lest it infest their lungs and eyes. Leaning against another skyscraper, Sakura grit her teeth as she clutched her abdomen. The speed of her heartbeat would’ve been worrying at normal size… at giant size… suffice it to say, she knew not how long she could keep this up. Even now, her eyes were beginning to focus and unfocus of their own accord. Her thoughts were jumbled, unable to pinpoint on many ideas beyond simply taking in the next breath. Even her hearing was malfunctioning; she could’ve sworn she was hearing some sort of voice, floating around her, saying her name repeatedly, in ascending tones of annoyance.

“Sakura… Sakura…

“Sakura!”

Sakura’s eyes shot open. Though still blurred, she could just barely make out through the muddy brown sunset haze a flitting, floating figure. It didn’t take much effort to realize this was, in fact, her current mentor, latched to a wingdrake. It also didn’t take any effort for Sakura to glean the magnitude of the Hunter’s ire, despite being unable to make out the most minute of her facial features.

“Oh… ha… hey… ha…” Sakura panted. Through tactile feeling – the last of her five senses that was not running on fumes – Sakura could feel the Earth’s faint rumbles.

“Listen, Sakura! We don’t have much time! You need to end –”

CLAAAAP!

Sakura would not discover precisely what it was she needed to end, as before the Hunter could finish her thought, she found herself on the receiving end herself of two massive, impossibly-sized hands smashing themselves together at several gees of force, completely flattening whatever was between them to indiscernible mush.

K.O.!

The phenomenal clap was more potent than even the strongest strike of thunder, reducing every piece of set glass within a several mile radius to little more than dust. It was enough to even launch Sakura backwards, rolling through the building she was using as a rest stop and collapsing its remaining floors and rubble on top of her in a devastating landslide. Kamala, meanwhile, hadn’t heard anything of the Hunter’s pleas through her attack, and was more curious to know if she had accidentally crushed a wayward pigeon.

Beaten, bruised, ears ringing, and on the utter edge of her stamina, Sakura clawed her way through the debris that had buried her, only to witness an awe-inspiring, if terrifying sight.

The sun had been blocked out. Raising one left leg high to the heavens with improbable stretchiness, topped by one gargantuan foot, Kamala Khan was rearing for an incomprehensibly phenomenal axe kick. In Kamala’s face, for the mere moments that the two’s eyes found one another, Sakura was astonished, flabbergasted, as she could detect the faintest sign of… smugness. Complete and total confidence, in spite of the fatigue she knew they both felt. Despite everything, Kamala maintained a positive demeanor.

And Sakura admired it.

The crater that was formed by the falling kick annihilated the city block, and completely decimated much of the zone. Even the most hardened and persistent photographers were forced to find cover behind rubble and the few remaining buildings that stood in the wake of the incoming cloud of dust. When the winds settled, and a few brave souls decided to peek their heads out from behind their haunts, what they witnessed was a remarkable sight, if disheartening for roughly half of them.

Standing in the exact center of the sterilized crater, there stood an embiggened Ms. Marvel, triumphant, one fat foot placed firmly on Sakura’s bruised face. Both were panting, but Kamala Khan’s smile and expression were indicators of her assurance of victory.

Sakura was however glaring with agitated venom at the world in general, despite her own position of subservience. She struggled to breathe, not least of which due to Kamala’s colossal foot completely covering her face and sternum, and muddying her air with its earthy potency. Coughing, Sakura found herself inhaling much of Kamala’s own salty sweat that rained down like a storm from her massive spongy foot, which forced her to cough some more, before closing her mouth and swallowing to put an end to the vicious cycle.

Meanwhile, from beneath the hem of her own fingerless glove, the remains of the Hunter’s insect glaive slid outward in several pieces, the Kinsect itself having been completely crushed in the attack. Even now, the essence that had powered it was leaking away in a mist, mostly unnoticed by the observers in lieu of the far more interesting display of dominance Kamala was broadcasting to the rest of the city, if not the world.

K.O.! the announcer once again… announced. And with that, any doubt was done away with.

The crowds, still slowly poking out from their holes, began to gradually erupt from scattered claps to rambunctious cheers at the spectacular bout they had just witnessed. Kamala, glancing up from her kill to see the applause of the audience, grinned. She placed one hand on her hip and threw out a peace sign, calling out, “That’s how we do it, Jersey style!”

Sakura breathed, inhaling a significant amount of Kamala’s foot scent, before exhaling. The calming motion allowed her to revert to a more neutral state of mind and heart in the face of Kamala’s semi-taunting gloats. As she ran the battle back in her head, she could already pinpoint her mistakes. Even as she was beginning to contract and minimize following the destruction of the insect glaive, Sakura could only close her eyes and announce with stoic purpose, “It would seem my training wasn’t enough… I’ll never catch up to Ryu at this rate… If he’s still alive, that is.”

“Huh, what?” called out Kamala, her foot now completely covering Sakura’s body as she decreased in size.

“I said –” Sakura began, before her mouth was completely muffled by Kamala’s foot. Knocked off balance from the sudden shift in the ground upon which she stood, Kamala readjusted herself, adopting a rigid rock-solid stance as she planted both her feet firmly on the ground with a thumpeach.

Glad that she didn’t lose her footing, Kamala once again turned her attention to the minimizing Sakura… only to realize she was nowhere to be found.

“Uhhh…” thought Kamala out loud, looking behind her to check if anyone saw (yes). Then, with slight fear, she picked up her own foot and looked at the sole.

“Oh, shi – crap! Well, that’s not good,” she self-censored as she observed what once constituted her opponent now adhered to the bottom of her foot.

Dropping it back to the ground, Kamala sighed, “I still need to get better at this whole hero thing.” She dragged it across the asphalt a few good times to clean it off as she pondered her next move, wiggling her toes at the end of the display. For reasons she couldn’t rightly explain, this somehow made the cheers increase in intensity.

Already pushing… whatever her name was… from her mind, Kamala turned east and began the long trek to make sure Captain Marvel was okay. As she pushed past the desiccated remains of skyscrapers, she wondered whether she should go ahead and shrink back now that the battle was over. But after a moment’s thought, she decided against it. This was hero training, after all, and if that fight taught her anything, it was that she needed to be able to fight while embiggened at a moment’s notice! So off she went, each step a tremor, each yawn a gust of wind. And the cheers and applause that seemed to emanate behind her felt so much more delicious, poetic, when she was towering over them all, walking away dramatically. Like a real hero!

Kamala giddily pulled her scarf closer to her as the setting sun descended past the horizon, burying the destroyed city in twilight. The breeze of her tattered suit mingled comfortably with her still-hot blood as she reverted her limbs back to more manageable sizes, though staying still at her enlarged scale. Kamala was never a fan of the skimpier super suits a lot of heroes wore… but maybe this might be a new look for her. She might even run into some criminals along the way. She smirked knowing that whatever they had up their sleeves would be no match for the Magnificent Ms. Marvel.