A Stitch in Spacetime (Giantess, Inanimate TF)


Ever since Miniverse had unveiled its patented Home Universe Kit, there'd been a number of artists looking to exploit its potential. Growing a custom universe in a matter of hours? The possibilities were endless!

Across the world, people were testing their newfound powers of creation. Some shaped their miniverses to produce stunning works of art. Some ran them fast to study the lives of their inhabitants. Some liked to make them into treats or even to distill them into drinks.

Chloe liked to make clothing. 

It was a simple enough trick. The Home Universe Kit let you manipulate your miniverse's spacetime like any ordinary fabric—fashioning it into clothing was the next logical step. Already, she'd made skirts, dresses, lingerie. 

Today, she wanted to make something special. Today, she wanted to make a sweater. 

Firstly, she set up her Kit to generate a miniverse, fast-forwarding it through it through all the boring early stages. As her miniverse reached the stelliferous era, she altered the settings, twisting probability so that every star in the box ended up with an Earth like her own. She watched and waited as they formed, as civilizations comprising trillions of lives grew like mold in a petri dish. 

Syncing the miniverse's time with her own, she looked in, studying all its miniature inhabitants as they went about their lives, entirely unaware of their nature of their existence. Watching them made her feel like a goddess.

Now, taking the box in her hands, she plugged it into her Spacetime Sewing Machine. This was another piece of specialist tech, equally as fabulous as the Home Universe Kit itself. Twisting the dials, she selected a particularly life-dense patch of the miniverse for use and set the device for the right shape and texture. Then she pushed the button to start.

Inside the box, a line of darkness cut through the outer edge of a galaxy. It lay there for an instant, like a scar on spacetime, and then it began to move inward towards the galactic core, cutting everything it passed out of existence. The rest of galaxy's inhabitants watched as the stars in the skies vanished. 

In the square itself, the captive billions stared as the heavens turned white, the bright white of their new mistress's wallpaper. As they watched or screamed or ran or cried, they felt a wave pass through their worlds and their bodies. As it passed, they found themselves frozen—trapped as tightly as threads in fabric. Space itself seemed to be changing, turning soft and as pliant as cloth. 

At last, the spreading darkness came to a halt on the other side of the galaxy, having cut a neat square out of the galaxy. 

On Chloe's desk, the Sewing Machine clicked and whirred and finally spat a sheet of spatial fabric from its mouth. The piece was deep blue and purple and glimmering with stars, 60 thousand million of them, each with an Earth of some six billion inhabitants. 

Pulling it free, Chloe held it to her face and squeezed it. The fabric felt warm to the touch.

Inside it, her trillions of captives could only stare at the giant face looming before them, could only scream in their heads as she breathed, sending a wave rolling through their new reality, so that bodies and buildings alike rippled like cloth.  

With a sigh, Chloe placed the fabric on the table and reached for her scissors. Untold billions cried out as those blades fell towards them, splitting star from star and world from world... 

Chloe worked for several long hours, until at last she was done. Tossing the leftover scraps (and their billions of inhabitants) into the trash, she stood back and took in the product of her work. She smiled. Now all she had to do was try it on...

Raising it high, she pushed her head through its opening. The sweater slipped neatly over her, clinging comfortably to her body. She shivered in delight at the feeling of its warmth, rubbing her hands down the length of her body. Inside, her clothing's captives tried to scream as their giant owner's palms flattened cities and sent mile high waves rippling through continents. 

Chloe, of course, noticed none of this. And even if she had, would she have cared? Of course not. What kind of person cared about the feelings of their clothes?

Turning to her mirror, she smiled and struck a pose.