With a frayed sleeve that wore the scent of diesel, or wet earth, or moisty concrete in a basement – or perhaps a mix of all three of them – Wilfred wept the sweat of his forehead, painting another smudge of coal. He looked over his shoulder and blubbered when he saw a single file of people being escorted by guards with whips to the coal mine further ahead down the road.

He was needed there. He would be missed. Then Wilfred spun his head and squinted in front of him. An inviting green hill sloped gently beneath an orange hue of the setting sun. It looked so brilliantly verdant, so fresh. It called for him. His bare, blistered feet wanted to bask in its refreshing touch so badly.

Wilfred took one step in its direction. Then another. A guard noticed him.

"Hey, you! Get back in line!"

Wilfred took another step and leaped his pace up to a stride that went over into a jog.

"Hey!" The same guard shouted out more urgent now. A high-pitched whistle cut through the air. "Runaway!"

Wilfred heaved and puffed as his legs galloped to their limits. Dozens of guards with whips, tasers, and bats in their hands, eager to strike him to submission, ran after him.

Wilfred climbed the hill while his lungs burned like the core of a burn pit, smoldering holes outwardly through the thin layered tissue of his lungs. He kept mentally whipping himself to the extreme in his aim to stay ahead of his chasers and crest the hill. It was something that just needed to be done, to perch the hill. He would die for it. Because beyond it, a reward was waiting for him.

Wilfred keeled over at the end of his tether, catching his breath while leaning on his knees. He made it to the top. He did not care anymore about the guards behind him, for the most majestic view lay sprawled out right in front of him. A monumentally huge Celeste sat all slumped on a likewise colossal couch. Her feet leaned on each other and rested leisurely at the edge of a city that spreads out vastly as far as Wilfred's eyes could see. It was Wilfred's hometown, and Celeste's feet loomed monstrously high above it.

Celeste wiggled her big toe playfully, a toe that looked like it was able to decimate acres upon acres of land with just a mere touch. Even the wrinkles in Celeste's sole – that appeared as she wiggled her foot – showed plenty of space for whole skyscrapers to rest in its gaps. A faint humming sound flourished in the distance above the city, becoming gradually more audible. Millions of people were chanting words of divinity in honor of the teenage Goddess lying slumped like a bag of flour in the background, completely ignoring them as she was busy on her phone.

They are worshipping her, Wilfred realized. The whole city was worshipping his stepdaughter. No longer looked the bratty Celeste like the umpteenth defiant teen girl, but like a Deity now.

An all-powerful and omniscient Goddess that struck fear and obedience in the heart of billions. The guards chasing Wilfred and finally caught up to him realized this also. The moment their eyes witnessed the mighty spectacle filling their purview called Goddess Celeste, they immediately dropped their weapons and their initial mission to seize Wilfred. They all sank down on their knees to revere the juvenile that ruled over them with her fists of justice.

Celeste's eyes zeroed in from her phone into Wilfred's direction, the way someone looked when someone else was calling you. The teen Goddess's body started moving as she crawled from the couch. Her countenance flew in rapidly. Wilfred's head had to tilt painfully before he could finally look Celeste in the eyes – which appeared like they were solely zeroed in on him.

So beautiful…

His stepdaughter's immaculate face and smooth, bare shoulders loomed ominously high above them all, dwarfing the vast city like a Ping-Pong ball compared to a basketball. Her ravishing almond-shaped eyes narrowed to threateningly small slits for a moment before peeling open, and her mouth called out:

"Have a nice day!"

Wilfred cried with pain when his forehead bounced hard against a glowing reading lamp. The puzzled faces of both Emma and Celeste greeted him when Wilfred rubbed the painful spot on his forehead with the back of his hand. He gave a deep sigh, leaned back on the couch, and waved goodbye to Celeste, who stood near the hallway, ready to leave. She gave him a curt mysterious smile before waving at her mother and leaving the house, closing the front door.

"You were drifted off good there, weren't you?" Emma asked him.

Wilfred looked over at his wife sitting on the other couch next to him. Her expression wasn't loving anymore, not since that last event in the bathroom. Her demeanor towards him was more reserved since then, distant even.

"Yea, I guess I was," Wilfred sighed while looking absentmindedly at the ceiling.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Huh?" Wilfred turned his head as the question surprised him.

"I saw your legs trembling frantically like you were running in your dream or something. I could also hear incoherent fragments of sentences spilling from your lips."

That brought Wilfred's mind on high alert. Because in his dream, he was worshipping his stepdaughter. He could recall clearly that he was chanting along with millions of others' words of praise for Celeste. He desperately hoped that his subconsciousness did not trigger his mouth to speak certain words during his sleep that would allow Emma to deduce certain things.

"Is that so?" Wilfred sniggered awkwardly. "great way of burning calories, right?"

Emma smiled weakly. Another change in her behavior since that day. Emma mostly used to laugh when Wilfred joked about something, however lame it sounded. Or she simply made it clear to him – using blunt words – that he was anything but funny. Wilfred rather had that than that cold and curt smile she was giving him now.

"What was I saying? I mean during my sleep?" Wilfred asked hesitantly while at the same time fearing the answer.

Emma shrugged. "Just gibberish. Nothing that made sense, at least."

Wilfred gave an inner sigh of relief.

"You also had a massive lump in your pants, by the way," Emma added.

That made Wildred leap up. "Damn morning wood," he muttered.

"It's 1 o'clock in the afternoon," Emma said dryly.

"It can also occur during other times of the day!" Wilfred said, more enthusiastic than he intended to.

"I know," Emma looked back at him with a cryptic glance.

"Were you dreaming about Celeste, Fred? About my daughter?" Emma added.

There it was. The question that was on Emma's mind this whole time. He knew it.

"It's related to your testosterone level and not arousal, Emma!"

"I wasn't asking about the cause of morning wood. I was asking about –"

"I know what you've asked!" Wilfred fumed.

Emma gave him a look that asked: 'Okay, spill it out then."

After an agonizingly long silence, Wilfred answered without looking Emma in the eyes, "Yes, I was dreaming about Celeste, Emma. About your daughter."

The silence after that revelation was even more painful than the silence he needed to speak out the revelation.

Emma stood up. "I want a divorce." And she vanished out of the room.

Wilfred was about to say something. Anything to keep his wife in the room, but held back instead. A news bulletin broadcasted on the television screen caught his attention. He saw images of the town hall of a nearby city being shrunk down to the size of a dollhouse.

Celeste…

The girl became more brazen by the day. The building was filled to the rafters when all present employees, citizens, and even the mayor – started to dwindle rapidly. Wilfred saw images of throngs of normal-sized bystanders creeping closer for a good peek at the miniature town hall and its miniature people. Authorities streamed in swiftly to push them back to a more suitable distance and put up a perimeter.

Wilfred could imagine Celeste's glee upon seeing this exact footage. The girl had probably shrunk them down while sitting leisurely on the bus while updating her social accounts on her phone.

That's how frightful her capability was. She could use it while simultaneously doing something else. And on top of that, the concerned target did not even have to be in sight. Wilfred did not precisely know how it worked, but he guessed that all Celeste had to do was think about some object or a person to make it or him/her shrink. The only limit was the range of her influence. Wilfred was confident that the girl could not shrink something down on the other side of the planet just by thinking about it.

Oh, the girl had tried, though. Wilfred was sure of it. What a frustration it must have been for her. But the scope of her capabilities is still growing. With each passing day, Celeste can land the clutches of her mind on objects and people further and further away and with a greater magnitude.

Even now, Celeste was capable of attacking a neighboring city that lay at least 50 miles further along. Besides Wilfred, Emma, and, of course, Celeste herself, no one could comprehend the cause of this shrinkage that started to seriously disrupt society. People were afraid and demanded answers that no one could give them. Who or what was shrinking them? What is their purpose? Are my family and I next? All burning questions that grew more excruciating after every new attack.

Wilfred had doubled back a few times when he was about to tell his side of the story to the police. Who would believe him anyway?...

Where would the potency of Celeste's powers end? And what impact would it have on global society?

Wilfred could only theorize.