Madison 

With pain in her heart Madison took a long glance at her micro city, sprawled on the bedside table. Her gaze kept being pulled to one specific location, the farmhouse amidst the green hills. The place where her best friend Ashley used to live. It was like she was still there, waving at her, but Ashley was no more. 
A single tear rolled down Madison's cheek. It felt like her heart was all hollowed from inside, all joy seeped. 
Her mother did her utmost to cheer her up, said that she should hang out with her friends, do the fun stuff. 
Unfortunately, she doesn’t understand. The bond she had with Ashley was something special. In a short time, she felt more like a sister than Claire ever was. A ‘bigger’ and wiser sister, a tough girl with a smart-ass attitude, someone she looked up to, despite the fact that she was the size of a speck. 
Madison thought of her sister Claire and felt a rage pumping through her veins. How could she do something like that? She still didn’t understand why she had done it. 
 
“I swear Maddy. I just wanted to fish out my dropped bracelet. They are just so delicate.” Claire had said with feigned conviction. 

Who is she trying to fool anyway?  

Madison took a look at the formidable destruction Claire had caused in the city’s centre, a crater, big as a tennis ball, adorned in the middle of the aquarium, like a meteor impact from ancient times. It made Madison realize the immense power they held in relation to these Lilliputians. Claire achieved this carnage with the mere use of one hand. She could have destroyed the entire city if she wanted to. 
They were true forces of nature, more powerful than Gods even, able to influence almost every aspect of their lives. 
 
An angry Brobdingnagian must be so terrifying for them. Madison brooded. 
 
This was also the first-time Madison seriously started to wonder where her mother got this city from. She was always a bit vague for that matter. Madison had heard stories about the horrible things their kind had committed against both the humans and the lilliputians. 
She couldn’t understand why people would do such a thing, why to misuse your power in such a snooty way? Do they really receive joy from doing such things? 
It made Madison feel embarrassed and ashamed to be one of them. Even a sense of self-contempt wooed over her, like she was just as guilty, only for the fact of being a Brobdingnagian girl. 
 
Suddenly, her phone went off, an incoming call. She picked it up and looked at the screen, with curiosity. 
 
“A lilliputian? The number seems familiar." She swapped the screen. "Hello? Madison here.” 
 
In her consternation, she heard Kelvin’s voice. She had assumed he was dead. 
 
 
Cobra 

It was a tense atmosphere in the gloom, stone corridor below the arena where both Johnson and Zorban were preparing for their first fight in the tournament. Meanwhile, thousands upon thousands of spectators streamed in order to gain a comfortable seat to encourage their most favorable fighter. 
For days, various teams got advertised throughout whole Usophia, whereby the pro-goddess teams gained the most broadcasting time. Teams who consisted of infidels were either getting denigrated or entirely over jumped. 
No weapons were allowed in the games, just the strength of your own body and the wits of the mind to beat the enemy. Once you’ve entered the battlefield you’ll either leave as a victor or as a corpse, no mercy for the losing party, one of the strict rules of their beloved Goddess. 
Ginger Phoenix she was called by some believers. A name sprouted by the sight of her enflaming appearance back in the days when she enforced total subjugation and obedience of her micro civilization. With red boots, glossy auburn hairdo and crimson varnished finger nails, she pointed them to their knees. From that moment on the usage of the name, Sophie, was punished by death. Only God would suffice when addressing her. 
 
After a short meditation session, sitting indian-style against a wall, Johnson was pondering about his best friend, Miller. 
The last time he saw him; he was shrunken, trapped in a jar, barely taller than an action figure. 
Miah seemed disturbingly content with it, teasing and wiggling the jar while she held him in front of her beaming face. One would think that being a lilliputian herself; she would understand the feelings of despair while being played with by someone who is bigger and stronger than you, to be completely delivered at the whims of someone else. 
She had promised Johnson that she would free and enlarge him to his original size if he, and Zorban would fight for her. But what if they lose? Losing equals death. 
How was she able to shrink him in the first place? 
Johnson didn’t trust her. However, he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to save his friend. 

Peeling his eyes open, Johnson looked at Zorban, with his usual gloom face. The latter walked around, bemused, in search for water. 
He yanked some random guy at his collar. 
 
“Where is the goddamn water in this dump!?” 
 
The poor bloke, all terrified by Zorban’s angry countenance, pushed in the face, pointed to some dark dirty corner. 
Zorban shoved the guy aside, who tumbled over another, and rammed and bounced his way through other fighters and attendants to reach the corner. 
He keeled over some big wooden bucket, full of water, sloshed some in his bottle and drenched it greedy in his open mouth. Streams dripped passed his lips. 
Then, he spat it all out, sprayed it on a young fellow’s shirt who stood beside him. 
 
“What is this stuff?! Pigeon sperm?! COME HERE!” He roared with his raspy voice to the same guy who was just standing up after his fall from the push. He looked at Zorban, petrified with fear. 
 
“IF YOU DON’T COME HERE THIS..." 
 
“Its a soil-bucket.” A feminine voice suddenly squeezed in. Both Zorban and Johnson turned and saw Miah approaching, with Boar and the two other fighters in tow. 
“Its not for drinking. It's meant to cleanse yourself from the sweat, sand and blood of the fights.” 
 
"Well, we haven’t fought yet, have we?” Zorban said. “My throat's a dessert. I need some water if you want me to fight.” 
 
Miah nodded towards Marble, who grabbed a fresh, cold bottle out of a bag and threw it to Zorban. 
The latter caught it, spun it open and drank it empty in one go. 
He wept over his mouth and grinned at Marble. “I gotta tell you, real improvement that crooked nose. You should thank me for it.” 
 
Marble was about to engage Zorban, who got halted by Boar’s big meaty arm. “Leave it. Save your energy for the fight.” 
 
“That’s right lapdog. Listen to you leash-master.” Zorban said. 
 
“In all seriousness ma’am, this will never work with these guys” Boar spoke to Mya. "Especially with him.” He pointed to Zorban. 
 
“Alright listen all.” Mya soothed. “You don’t have to be friends, just...” 
 
Promptly; they heard a deep, loud horn blowing in a long tune. They all looked up, entangled. They couldn’t see what was happening upstairs, had to settle with sound only. 
 
“The first fight is about to start.” An old, nearly toothless guy announced, with a slight hissing voice. 
“You guys are up next.” 
 
The sound of low rumbles followed, vibrating through the whole arena, from the stomping feet of many. The complete crowd of nearly eighty thousand started to clap in synchronic intervals. The tension was building up. 
 
“They are welcoming the champion.” The old lad said. 
 
“Champion?” Zorban asked. 
 
The old guy nodded in all seriousness. “The Goddess’s favorite fighter, a fierce warrior, never been touched by a single stroke during battle.” 

Zorban chuckled. “My knuckles will meet with his nose before your last tooth falls out, rest assured.”

 
CHESTER STONE! CHESTER STONE! CHESTER STONE! It emanated from the throats of thousands, greeting the champion. 
 
Subsequently, after a short indistinct speech, another long deep horn was heard, and the crowd went wild. 
 
“The fight has started.” The old guy said. “Listen with care. You can follow the fight. Close your eyes.” 

Johnson did what the old man said and saw in his head images of warriors fighting each other. The course of the battle was guided by the screams and shouts of the crowd, rising to frantic heights after every smacking hit. 
It went on for a while, until the champion’s name got recited again. 
 
“Surprising outcome.” Marble grunted. 
 
The old man nodded. “You lot are up. Good luck.” 
Johnson was about to walk off when the old man grabbed him by the shoulder and looked at him with an intense gaze. 
 
“Remember, it's not about winning, nor is it about surviving. Entertain her. Entertain God. It's not merely your lives that are at stake here.” 

 
Johnson gave a grave nod and went after the others of his team, only Miah stayed behind. She looked after him with an inscrutable face. 

Johnson squinted in an attempt to protect his eyes from the stingy sun-brights gleaming from the countless floodlights pointed at them when he, and his team strutted through the arched gateway. Various cameras, manned and unmanned, swarmed all over to catch a good shot. 

They saw two corpses being dragged off, leaving a bloody trail in the sands of the battleground. 

Entering the sandy vastness of the fighting grounds they got greeted by a turmoil of berating and scold of a hostile crowd. Most of them were fanatics, had lost their sense of dignity a long time ago. Suffering for years under the strict rule of a sadistic Brobdingnagian woman with delusions of grandeur had broken their spirits completely. In the end, they embraced their aggressor and exalted her to the stature of a God, worshiped her, loved her even. 
Johnson felt a swell of pity for them. The poor souls totally forgot how it is to live in freedom. He couldn't blame them their behavior. After all, it was just a necessary coping style to make life somewhat bearable under miserable conditions. 
 
"I hope you realize the mercy you’ve been given!" An old hag with crooked teeth screeched at them. 
 
"Your soul is lost! It's lost!" another man with a crazy look in the face shouted. " 

They all ignored the insults of the masses and walked to the middle, in a straight line. 

It was only then that Johnson noticed some huge appearance in the background. 

He squinted. Abaft the grandstand, he saw a massive bright red colored, high heel, dangling up and down. It loomed threateningly over the arena. The shoe was occupied by a well manicured feminine foot and was attached to a seemingly unending smooth shin. 

There she was, the self-proclaimed God, sitting cross-legged on her throne, smiling down upon her micro-subjects. Her juicy thighs nearly ripped the delicate fabric of her cardinal colored satin dress apart when she shifted on her seat. 

The glee and delight dripped from her hungry green eyes while she scrutinized them all. 

It made Johnson realize his insignificance. He was so incredible weak and puny compared to this woman. Looking up at her, he nearly drowned in her celestial beauty, even her slender hands, folded over her knee, were arousing to watch. 

It was only colorable that people started to see her as a deity. She actually looked like one. 

Johnson could only hope to survive this circus and be able to save his best friend, Miller. He didn't care for his own life though. His joy for life died a long time ago, along with his wife and daughter.  

He would give his all. Live or die didn’t matter.