Pete's Agility in Action

The world tilted. Not in the dizzying, disorienting way it had since they’d woken up in that sterile lab, but in a more visceral, terrifying lurch. Max, ever the first to react, scrambled, his tiny hands scrabbling for purchase on the shifting terrain. They were on a slope, a colossal incline of loose, sandy soil that felt like a landslide in miniature. Each grain, once barely noticeable, was now a miniature boulder threatening to send them tumbling back into the abyss from which they’d just climbed.

“Whoa!” Hoops yelped, her usual exuberance momentarily drowned out by sheer panic. She wobbled precariously, a tiny, brightly colored beacon against the dull brown of the earth. “This is not good. Like, ‘lost-my-phone-in-the-toilet’ not good. This is ‘about-to-become-a-tiny-pancake’ not good!”

Willow, her face etched with concern, reached out a steadying hand towards Pete, whose wide eyes were fixed on the treacherous descent. “Easy, Pete. Just breathe.”