Dylan crouched beneath Marcus’s desk, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. The classroom was a colossal jungle, a futuristic sprawl of towering students and their chaotic, oversized world. At his rice-grain size, every detail was amplified—the scuffed edges of Marcus’s sneaker, the faint hum of the air conditioning, the distant scratch of pens like trees falling. He wasn’t scared anymore, not exactly. The terror had morphed into a buzzing thrill, a reckless curiosity about this giant-filled future. “This is nuts,” he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips. “A whole world of giants, and I’m sneaking through it like a spy. Let’s get a closer look.”
His eyes locked onto the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, a distant mesa bathed in the glow of a holographic projector. The teacher, a towering figure with a chiseled frame and a plump ass that had briefly caught Marcus’s shy glance, moved with purpose, his voice a deep rumble as he lectured on quantum mechanics. “That desk’s gotta have answers,” Dylan muttered. “Tech, notes, maybe a clue about this crazy future. I’m going for it.”
The journey was a gauntlet. Dylan darted from shadow to shadow, weaving through a forest of giant shoes and bookbags. Each student was a skyscraper, their movements unpredictable. A sneaker slammed down inches away, the shockwave knocking Dylan flat. “Whoa, watch it!” he yelped, scrambling behind a dropped pencil the size of a log. A girl’s voice boomed overhead, oblivious: “Yo, did you do the problem set? I was up till three.”
“Three? Lightweight,” a guy rumbled, his backpack crashing to the floor like a boulder. Dylan dove beneath it, heart pounding. “These giants move fast,” he panted. “Seconds for them, freaking marathons for me.” He sprinted across open floor, dodging a swinging shoelace and sliding under a chair as a student shifted, their jeans brushing the ground like a curtain.
Minutes stretched like hours, but Dylan’s adrenaline surged with every near miss. “This is insane,” he whispered, half-laughing. “Giant shoes, giant bags—everything’s trying to squash me, but I’m killing this!” He ducked behind a crumpled energy drink can, catching his breath. The teacher’s desk loomed closer, its legs like redwood trunks. The teacher paced nearby, his polished shoes glinting, his slacks hugging his muscular legs and that notably thick ass. Dylan smirked. “Okay, teach, you’re living large. Let’s see what you’re hiding up there.”
Finally, Dylan reached the base of the desk, its surface a cliff face stretching into the sky. Papers, a tablet, and a coffee mug the size of a silo gleamed above. The teacher stood at the whiteboard, scribbling furiously. “Focus, people,” he boomed, voice rich with authority. “Entanglement isn’t just theory—it’s the backbone of our comms grid.” A student near the front muttered, “Yeah, but the math’s a nightmare,” earning a chuckle from her friend.
Dylan scanned his options, pulse racing. The teacher’s chair was a few feet away, its cushioned seat a tempting platform, close to the floor but still a climb. Or… he glanced at the teacher, now leaning over a student’s desk, his slacks taut over his frame, shirt tucked tightly against his defined back. Climbing him would be riskier—insanely so—but it’d get Dylan closer to the action, maybe even to the desk’s surface via the teacher’s body. “Chair’s safer,” Dylan mused, “but climbing Mr. Buff up there? That’s a story.” He wasn’t just intrigued now; he was hooked, craving the rush of infiltrating this giant’s world.
He hesitated, weighing the paths.
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