You awoke, not in your comfortable bed, but on a massive expanse of cold stone. Immediately, you felt something was wrong, very wrong. Looking out, the stone floor seemed to stretch on for miles and miles, ending in the distance at walls that stretched taller than any skyscraper. The ground was etched with a detailed magical circle, the grooves deep, glowing canyons that cast you in a dimming azure glow. "Huh? Did the ritual fail?" A voice boomed above in the distance, your head snapped to the source, an absolute titan, her heels struck the ground with thunderous clacks as she approached the center where you had been ceremoniously spit into existence. You looked up, her legs rose into the atmosphere, covered by her modest, frilly dress, her chest blocked the light from reaching you, casting you in a deep shadow. Your eyes finally met as she peered down at you, squinting before finally noticing you. "What?! How did... oh goddess..." she bent down at the knees, her hand plummeting from the sky to gently grip you by the waist, lifting you into the air as she rose to her full height and deposited you onto her upturned palm.

The floor of the special training room was, from your perspective, a massive expansive of slippery waxed wooden slats that seemed to go on for miles in every direction. Before you, casting a deep, dark shadow over you, was your trainer turned tormentor, Alice. The sheer magnitude of her thick-soled leather boots was a cliff face that filled your entire field of view. Looking up, her legs shot into the stratosphere, her torso blotting out the light from the window behind her as she crossed her arms under her bust. Way, way up, was her face; her icy eyes peered down at you, looking at you like you were an insect as the her features were etched with absolute disdain. "How the hell am I supposed to train a hero the size of my thumb? What do they expect me to arm you with, a sewing needle?" Her voice boomed down from above, laced with vitriol. "Fine. We'll start from the basics, strength training. Drop and give me a hundred, bug. And pray I don't add any extra weight." She added, her voice echoing as the toe of her boot lifted from the impatient wiggling of her toes.

The floor of the special training room was, from your perspective, a massive expanse of slippery waxed wooden slats that seemed to go on for miles in every direction. Before you, casting a deep, dark shadow over you, was your trainer-turned-tormentor, Alice. The sheer magnitude of her thick-soled leather boots was a cliff face that filled your entire field of view. Looking up, her legs shot into the stratosphere, her torso blotting out the light from the window behind her as she crossed her arms under her bust. Way, way up was her face; her icy eyes peered down at you, looking at you like you were an insect as her features were etched with absolute disdain. "How the hell am I supposed to train a hero the size of my thumb? What do they expect me to arm you with, a sewing needle?" Her voice boomed down from above, laced with vitriol. "Fine. Let's test your speed." She sighed, the exhale of her breath a roaring wind that cut the air, sending fist-sized dust motes flying away. Suddenly, the massive monolith of her boot took flight, soaring through the air and crashing to earth right in front of you. The shockwave threatened to throw you onto your ass as it shook your very bones to the marrow. The gust carrying a strong scent of her oily polish and caked-on dirt suffused your senses. "Go on, bug. You might be as small as a spider, but i hope for your sake that you're fast like one as well. Climb to my face before I make it to the dining hall or I might just forget about you." She commanded, and the toe of her other boot slammed the floor in an impatient rhythm, threatening to throw you off balance again.

No book or fantasy novel could truly have prepared you for this world, though after the grueling training and events of the first day, this shouldn't have been a surprise. Your nighttime quarters were spartan, to say the least, a jewelry box with no cushions, just a thin, ratty green felt lining to rest on. The latch shut and time seemed to blur, you're not sure when you slept, or for how long, but you were awoken to loud, earth shaking thuds outside the confines of your box, signals that your trainer turned tormentor was alive and well. Minutes seemed to bleed by before the thunderous footfalls suddenly grew louder; the box opened with a deafening snap as blinding light flooded the space. "Rise and shine, bug." Alice sneered, her face contorting blatantly with contempt as she leaned over the vanity, her torso a monolithic expanse of pale skin, crisp white shirt halfway unbuttoned and revealing the heavy expanse of her cleavage. Her fingers came down, plucking you out of your bare room with zero regard for your comfort. Her other hand rose up, shoving the box off to the side just for her to unceremoniously let go of you. The short plummet to the varnished top of her vanity was an insult of its own, the impact rattling your bones as you slammed into the wood. "Its time for... Endurance training, a hero needs to be able to withstand colossal impacts and the crushing weight of the world. To that end..." she reached down, lifting one off her heavily worn boots and slamming it onto the table, shaking the wood beneath your feet like an earthquake. The collar was open, a wide gaping maw ready to swallow you whole. A heavy miasmic wave of warm, worn leather and the pungent, musky odor of yesterday's sweaty exertion washes over you, bathing you in her primal scent. "You're going to spend the day under my foot. Try not to squirm too much or you won't be eating, either, so I hope you like the flavor of my sweat because it's all you'll be drinking." She drawls, her icy visage contorting into a cruel sadistic smirk "Go on, hop in, down to the bottom. Unless you'd prefer i shove you in myself." Her finger idly tapped away at the wood as she waited, each impatient tap of her fingernail striking the surface as loud as a cannon.

The floor of the special training room was, from your perspective, a massive expanse of slippery waxed wooden slats that seemed to go on for miles in every direction. Before you, casting a deep, dark shadow over you, was your trainer-turned-tormentor, Alice. The sheer magnitude of her thick-soled leather boots was a cliff face that filled your entire field of view. Looking up, her legs shot into the stratosphere, her torso blotting out the light from the window behind her as she crossed her arms under her bust. Way, way up was her face; her icy eyes peered down at you, looking at you like you were an insect as her features were etched with absolute disdain. "How the hell am I supposed to train a hero the size of my thumb? What do they expect me to arm you with, a sewing needle?" Her voice boomed down from above, laced with vitriol. "Fine. You might be too pathetically weak to even hurt a fly, but you should at least be nimble enough to keep yourself from being ground into paste when the demon lord, or a cleaning lady inevitably just squashes you underfoot without noticing you." She sighs, glaring at you like a particularly disgusting cockroach. She lifts her foot, the skyscraper of leather rising into the air, displacing a fierce gust of wind as the tread looms overhead. "Dodge, and pray i dont forget to hold back..." Her scowl turned into a sadistic grin as her foot began to fall from orbit like a meteor aimed right for where you were standing.

Alice in her infinite sadism had decided to take you on your first real border patrol through the forest between the human and demon kingdoms; you managed to become proficient enough at dodging her boot at least, so she thought it high time to show you just how much you needed her. She must have been feeling kind today, because instead of having you perch on the toe of her boot, or tied up in the laces of her boot, you were perched on her shoulder like a tiny parrot. It was quiet, too quiet. There was hardly any noise other than the crunch of her boots in the dirt but before your concerns could even be voiced your entire entourage was wiped out in an instant. From your flank, several crackling darts of fiery demonic energy struck down each of the guards behind you. Alice hardly had time to identify the assailant before the same fate befell her; a ball of compressed, dark energy slammed into her, sending her flying unconscious into the treeline as you tumbled straight to the ground. All was quiet again, save for the deafening crash of footfalls approaching you shaking the very dirt beneath your feet. You expected a platoon of mages, a group at least, but no; the lone figure approached you, admiring their handiwork. "Ahh, it's nice to get out of the castle and stretch my muscles once in a while, it gets so boring in there." She sighs, stretching her arms over her head as she walks. Her eyes were pulled almost magnetically towards you, the tiny figure on the ground. She stopped just shy of you, crossing her arms as she examined you from above. "Well well, what do we have here. Such a repulsive magic signature, no wonder I could sense this patrol from the castle. You must be the hero I hear so much about from my spies." Her voice echoed, shaking your very bones with its sheer authority and power. "I had heard they were on the short side, but this is something else!" She exclaimed, her voice thick with condescension. "Well little hero? Do you think you can defeat me? Or will humanity perish with you becoming paste under my boot?" Her leg shot into the sky, blotting out the sun. Her strike was primed, ready to fall to earth with the force of a falling sun.

The summoning chamber was silent with bated breath; the ritual to summon the hero was a decade-long wait and a monumental expenditure of resources and mana. That silence wouldn't last for long though, as the thick, dense fog cleared to reveal... nothing. However, things were decidedly different in the very heart of the enemy's stronghold. You awoke, finding yourself on a seemingly endless plain of rough, hewn black stone, looking up, in the distance, seemingly miles away was a titanic figure seated on a throne cut from chiseled basalt.

The summoning chamber was silent with bated breath; the ritual to summon the hero was a decade-long wait and a monumental expenditure of resources and mana. That silence wouldn't last for long though, as the thick, dense fog cleared to reveal... nothing. However, things were decidedly different in the very heart of the enemy's stronghold. You awoke, finding yourself on an expanse of polished mahogany, the air strongly suffused with floral fragrances. You picked yourself off the surface, turning to see the titanic cleavage of an ashen-skinned woman staring back at you with fiery slitted eyes, a makeup sponge held aloft as she stopped in her tracks. "What do we have here? A little voyeur? Has humanity really stooped so low as to spy on naked women? Tsk. Tsk." *Her thunderous voice rattled your core as she clicked her tongue in distaste. She brought her other hand up, her finger slamming into your chest like a freight train as the tip pressed you down into the wood grain hard enough to feel your bones creak under the sheer weight of her colossal digit. "Well, I hope the show was worth it, bug. Give me one reason why I shouldn't pop you like a grape and move on with my day." She added coldly, her eyes burning a hole through you as she scrutinized your every twitch under her intense gaze. She hadn't even set the sponge down, continuing to apply her makeup, content to just crush you and go about her day.