Agatha sat on her velvet upholstered throne, overlooking the tiny empire she had stolen over the past month. Twenty towns arranged around a city, all from different parts of the world, laid at her feet. Individual buildings were too puny for her to really notice anything, but she could clearly see the individual clusters making up the settlements. There might have been fifty thousand people down there (she had neither the time nor inclination for a census), all under her thumb. She should have had more, but a couple towns got flattened as examples when some refused to bow down. Effigies glorifying her began to appear shortly after.
And yet, she didn’t feel even the slightest tug of divinity. There was nothing inside her lifting her up, no indefinable warmth spreading through her body. All her research said that her apotheosis should have begun by now, and all she’d need to do is the ritual. She knew they were worshipping her down there: not only had she instilled the fear of a living goddess in them, but she had a habit of magically eavesdropping on them at random times to turn their pathetic squeaks into something she could understand.
Her disdain for them sparked an epiphany. The issue wasn’t amount of worshippers, or how zealous their belief was, or how she cowed them to her will. They were simply too small to contribute to her divine ascension! When she thought about it like that, it made perfect sense. If all of her new worshippers were combined, the mass might be the size of her right foot. Even though they acted and ostensibly looked like people, they had become too miniscule to be considered people by any real measure. She would have to come up with another source of captive worshippers.
Agatha stood from her throne and took a second to stretch her joints. She strode toward the sconce with her scrying pool, paying no need to the settlements on the floor. Each step made the sound of crunching gravel as buildings were obliterated, and countless useless worshippers got flattened. No doubt they would be incensed, but so what? They weren’t contributing to her goal, and outside the little circle she had built for them, they would never contribute anything else to the world.
She leaned forward over the rim of the pool and chose an unconventional target to look at: herself. A bird’s eye view of her tower amid the familiar landscape formed in the rippling surface below her. Agatha spoke the command word and it temporarily flashed silver again, and she heard the sky above her tear open. Her hand reached through the portal, and a corresponding shadow engulfed the tower. Curious, she turned her gaze out the window, where she saw her own enormous hand hanging from the sky. As a test she wiggled her fingers, and to her delight the tremendous fingers on the hand moved as she commanded.
Satisfied, she withdrew her hand and prepared to commit. She swung a leg over the ledge and plunged it through the magical pool, sinking in up to her thigh. Her foot stopped and an enormous crash sounded outside, along with the tower shaking uncontrollably for several seconds. Agatha looked out the window again and saw a titanic dark purple wall had appeared worryingly close, with a pattern that matched the one on her shoe. Of course, it was her shoe. If her foot alone was this size, how big would her whole body be once it was through?
Eager to find out, Agatha sat on the rim of her scrying pool, dangling her other leg through it. Slowly she lowered her body through it, not wanting to topple her tower by merely stepping through to the other side. When both her feet were on the ground she was up to her waist in the pool, and she paused to simply watch the ripples moving out from her. Then she dipped the rest of her body in, slowly sinking into a crouch.
The last strand of her long black hair came through, and Agatha gave the command word to close it. Once the rift over her head closed she stood, marveling at how far up her full height was now. Immediately she looked down at her feet and spotted her tower. She knew as an absolute fact that it was five hundred feet tall, and it just came up to her ankles! Her head stopped just below the bottom layer of clouds, and the forest she had lived inside for years looked like moss on the ground. It was likely she would never know exactly how tall she was, but she would clearly be a force to be reckoned with now.
On the far horizon, she spotted what would become her new domain. The Kingdom of Simkin started on the other side of the forest, with its capital against the mountains only a few hundred miles away. She expected she could be there in only a few minutes and crush any real opposition to her in a matter of seconds. After that, it would only be a matter of tearing down their local religions and setting up worship of herself.
She set off in its direction, her long strides making short work of the distance. Each step she took felled over a dozen acres of forest beneath her feet, though she was clear of it after only four steps. On the edge, she spotted a small hamlet that had built up around a farmhouse. Agatha diverted her route slightly so it was under her foot the next time she set her heel down, and without a second thought stepped forward. There was not even so much as a crunch when the hamlet flattened beneath her sole, and she continued on her way.
Agatha followed the narrow strip of dirt road from the hamlet she demolished toward the kingdom’s center. Without her even knowing it, traders’ carts and travelers were eviscerated by her languid steps, even some roadside inns were demolished. She passed up the opportunity to wipe the occasional small town off the map as she went, recognizing that she would need some people to not be obliterated in the future.
Just as expected, after only three minutes of walking Agatha practically had the capital beneath her. A sea of tiny black dots rushed out to greet her, drawing up into a line in front of her right foot. They held their position for a moment, admirable compared to what they were up against, but seemed to be doing nothing. Agatha raised her foot slightly and moved it over the line, turned it sideways, and brought it back down. In a single step she had annihilated the only serious resistance against her.
The militia captain heard a loud boom off in the distance and felt the ground shake a few seconds later. He looked toward the sound and it came again, a little bit louder with more violent quakes. A cap of black hair peaked over the horizon, and after several more thuds, more of what was coming was revealed. It was so crazy he scarcely believed it even though he saw it with his own eyes.
A titanic woman’s face, with silver irises and pale skin, with a large red scar running down from her right eye. Each step brought more of her into view. She was slender, with a small chest for her figure and a narrow waist, and a plain black gown covering her from shoulder to ankle, with a long slit up to her waist on her right leg. Her gait had such confidence, it was like she thought she was invincible. He had never seen anyone so huge, so it was difficult to estimate her height, but she was at least a mile tall. Based on that, she might as well be invincible.
“To arms!” he shouted, ringing the bell to summon the rest of the force. It was hopeless, he knew, but they still had to make an effort. He ran to the rally point where men-at-arms were already gathering, still adjusting their hastily grabbed weapons. Another crash came from near the horizon, and he saw some of the militia members cringe. Admittedly, he was hardly enthusiastic about the prospect of battling a woman so tall he couldn’t even see all of her at once, but it was his duty.
The militia advanced in a loose rank, hoping to get to high ground before they had to engage, but the giantess was closing the gap much faster than they were. She was practically upon them before they were even a hundred yards out from the city, and they had to stop. They drew up into lines of battle in the shadow of one of her great shoes, though that was just out of habit: they had no idea what they would do. Archers fired an initial volley of arrows, not a single one of which came close to cresting the toe of her shoe.
She lifted the shoe off the ground and moved it over the battle line, hovering several hundred feet over their heads. Some of the militia broke and ran when she turned her foot sideways so that it ran over every member of the response force. Those who stood looked up at the gigantic shoe sole, its smooth gray surface blocking out the sun, with jaws dropped in awe. In a flash the shoe came down, squashing those who ran and stood alike and leaving a gigantic footprint in its wake.
Agatha stepped over the entire city in one lunge, shaking buildings apart when her foot crashed into the ground again. People wanted to run, but they had no idea where to go. It was clear that no matter where they went, she would be able to reach them. She looked over her new city and gave a nod of approval. No other power, magical or mundane, would dislodge her from her position over it. By right of conquest it was hers, and she intended to make full use of it.
First, though, she needed a throne to rule from. Agatha turned to the mountain overlooking the city, and with a few short syllables the rock melted and reshaped itself in her image. Stone folded and bent, or outright disappeared, until there was a vast throne magically carved into the mountainside. She smirked, looking at her literal seat of power, and turned around. Slowly she lowered her butt onto it, leaned against the back and crossed one leg over the other. Later she would have to get some padding for it, but for now it was the perfect seat for her.
Her foot dangled above the royal keep so that it was cast in shadow from sunup to sundown. She scanned the city, looking for the largest, most elaborate temple. Light glinting off the gilded finish drew her eyes to it, and she pointed at the building with a single finger. A ray of fire shot out from her fingertip and crashed into the building. Over the course of a few seconds the gold melted and stone exploded in a hail of shrapnel, demolishing the building and spraying the streets with bits of rock and mortar. Agatha allowed herself to laugh, a loud, booming, haunting sound, at the temple’s destruction, and looked out on the rest of the city with a satisfied smirk.
“Listen close, you worthless insects,” Agatha boomed, making sure her voice carried all over the city. “Unless you think you can stop me, you’re mine. As your new leader, I issue my first directive: you are to destroy every temple in every town and begin worshipping yours truly. Send out messengers to convey this message to ensure that it is done within the month. I can say from personal experience that the omnipotence of your supposed gods is lacking, and their rumored omniscience leaves a lot to be desired. If even one temple stands in this kingdom in thirty days, I will begin destroying city districts each day until they’re gone. Do not test me.” Once she was finished, she slouched back down in her chair and smirked. It felt good to be in charge.