(TATB) Ch 15: The Beginnings Of A New Home!

(SYDNEY)

Victor had that look again. I didn't even need to ask what was on his mind. That furrowed brow, that faraway stare—it was like he was seeing something the rest of us couldn't. I sat there chewing on the last bit of cookie, watching him, trying to decide whether to say something or leave him to whatever dark corner of his mind he'd wandered into.

Before I could figure it out, the ground rumbled slightly beneath us.

"Whoa!" I muttered, instinctively grabbing onto a crumb. It was her again—Skylar. Her massive face loomed closer, the movement of her body creating a soft quake that traveled through the desk. Her eyes scanned the crowd of us, her expression as calm as it could be for someone that size.

"So, before I take you to your new home, is there anybody that wants to leave?"

Her voice rolled over us, deep and booming, like thunder. It wasn't angry or commanding, but it didn't matter—when a voice is that loud, it shakes you to your core no matter the tone.

The group went quiet. You could hear the hesitation in the air, see it in the way people shuffled their feet and glanced at one another. No one spoke up, not even to murmur. I looked up at her, and even Skylar seemed to pause, as if she was figuring out how to follow up her own question.

"None of you are pets," she said finally, and then smiled. "You deserve to make your own choices."

Her voice softened at that, and I noticed how carefully she was speaking, like she was trying not to hurt our ears. I could respect that—most Brobs wouldn't even care if their words left us deaf.

Skylar straightened up a bit, her face still so far above it might as well have been the sun in the sky. "I'd really like all of you to stay," she continued. "To make a society here, one where you're safe and happy. But..." She paused, her lips pressing together briefly. "I won't force anyone to stay. If you want to leave, that's your choice."

She reached out slowly, her colossal finger coming down onto the desk, far enough away that I didn't feel like she was about to crush us but close enough that we could see every ridge of her fingerprint. The size of it still blew my mind—it was like a mountain with skin.

"If you want to leave, just walk over to my finger," she said gently. "I'll put you somewhere safe outside."

Her words echoed through the crowd. For a moment, no one moved. My dad, standing just behind me, folded his arms and studied her face like he was trying to read her thoughts. I tugged at his sleeve.

"Do you think anyone's going to leave?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

He didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on her, like he was weighing the truth of her words. "I don't know," he said finally.

I hesitated, watching the crowd shift uncomfortably. "Should we..." I started, not sure how to finish the question.

But then Victor stepped forward.

"I'm staying," he said, his voice calm and steady as he walked a few paces closer to her massive presence. "This Brob seems to be different." He turned back to glance at me, his expression unreadable.

My dad chuckled softly. "Smart kid," he said. Then he clapped a hand on my shoulder. "There's no future out there, Sydney. But there might be one here."

I looked at him, then back at Victor, who had stopped walking but stood tall despite his size. The guy had guts, I'd give him that.

Meara and her gang nodded in unison, their expressions grim but resolute. They weren't going anywhere, either.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Okay," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. "I guess we're in this together."

I took a step forward, wrapping my arm around Victor's shoulder. "Guess I'll stick with you, buddy. Not because I like you or anything, but because someone's gotta make sure you don't do anything stupid."

Victor smirked but didn't say anything.

"Yup, let's do it," I added, looking up at Skylar's giant face again. "I mean, worst case scenario, she steps on us, and it's over quick, right?"

Victor just shook his head, and Dad snorted behind me.

"Real comforting, Sydney," Dad said.

"Hey, I try," I shot back with a grin. But deep down, as terrifying as all this was, I couldn't help but feel... curious. Maybe Victor was right. Maybe she really was different.

***

(Skylar) 

I sat there, looking down at the tiny people on my desk. No, not things—people. It was still hard to wrap my head around. They were so small, so fragile, but their hesitance, their uncertainty, felt huge. I gave them a few moments to make their decision. I didn't want to rush them. This wasn't some small choice; this was their lives, their future.

They huddled together, murmuring among themselves. I couldn't make out a word, of course, but the way they moved, how they looked up at me and then back at each other, I could tell they were talking it over. I kept still, holding my breath almost as if I'd scare them just by exhaling.

After what felt like forever, no one made a move toward my finger. I blinked, a little surprised, but then a smile crept across my face. Slowly, I moved my hand away, careful not to cause any gust of wind that might knock them over.

"I won't let you down," I said softly, though my voice still felt too loud, too much. My chest tightened, and I realized I was holding back tears. They trust me. They actually trust me.

I cleared my throat and gave them another smile. "Well," I said, trying to keep my tone upbeat, "shall I take you guys to your new home?"

I reached for the thin sheet of white paper I'd prepared earlier, the one I used for notes during lectures. It was clean, crisp, and just sturdy enough to hold their weight without bending too much. Carefully, I placed it on the desk beside them, keeping my hand steady.

"Alright, everyone," I said, trying to sound as gentle as I could. "Climb aboard. I promise I'll be careful."

Watching them move toward the paper was... humbling. They were so small, so cautious, yet determined. Step by step, they climbed onto the makeshift platform, and I waited until everyone was safely on before lifting it.

Slowly—oh so slowly—I carried them across the room to my open closet. My hands trembled just a little, but I steadied myself, breathing slowly. When I reached the floor of the closet, I knelt down and carefully set the paper on the ground.

"Welcome," I said, watching as they stepped off the paper onto their new home.

It wasn't much, not yet. The space was small by my standards, just a cleared-out corner of my closet, but to them, it must've seemed enormous. I'd spent the last couple of nights working on it, gathering everything I thought they'd need to build a real home.

"It's not much just yet," I said, gesturing to the supplies I'd laid out. "But it has the makings of a city."

I pointed out the little piles of resources: matchsticks for building structures, cotton balls they could use for bedding or insulation, a tiny dish of water with a dropper so it wouldn't spill, and an assortment of crumbs from different types of food—bread, crackers, fruit snacks.

"There's food, water, and materials to get started," I explained. "This is all for you. Please... create a city you can be proud of."

I sat back on my heels, watching them explore, my heart swelling with a strange mix of pride and protectiveness. They deserved this. They deserved safety, a chance to rebuild their lives.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was doing something right.