The platform’s glow intensified, bathing Hannah and Emily in a cocoon of warm, golden light. Hannah felt a strange, soothing pressure beneath her feet, like the air had cradled them in a soft embrace. Then, suddenly, they were moving—not with a jolt, but with an effortless, seamless shift that left her breathless.

The light around them stretched and morphed, transforming into a shimmering tunnel that seemed to extend infinitely in every direction. The tunnel's walls were translucent and prismatic, refracting light into a dazzling array of colors that danced and shifted around them. Though the sensation of movement was absent, the glass-like surface outside streaked with speed, giving the impression that they were hurtling through the cosmos at a blistering pace.

Hannah’s breath caught as she turned her gaze outward. Through the translucent walls of the tunnel, Earth lay behind them, a small blue marble suspended in the black expanse of space. As they soared away, the familiar continents and oceans shrank, their details fading into the pale glow of the planet’s atmosphere. It wasn’t long before Earth was no more than a pinprick of light, blending with the stars in the endless void.

Her awe grew as the tunnel opened, revealing a vast stretch of the universe she had never imagined. Stars burned brightly, their light piercing the darkness in brilliant whites, yellows, and reds. Some seemed impossibly far away, barely visible points of light, while others loomed larger, their radiant coronas casting faint glows over the tunnel’s edges.

A comet streaked by, its icy tail trailing in a glittering arc that shimmered against the backdrop of distant galaxies. Nebulas swirled in hues of purple and blue, their ethereal forms painting the void with cosmic artistry. Planets appeared as they flew—massive gas giants with swirling storms, bands of color reminiscent of abstract art, and rocky worlds pockmarked with craters and valleys, their surfaces illuminated by distant suns.

Hannah turned her head as they passed close to an asteroid belt, the tumbling rocks glowing faintly from the reflected light of a nearby star. The stones ranged in size from pebbles to massive, jagged formations, and for a moment, it felt as though they were threading an impossible needle through the shifting debris.

“Look!” Hannah exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder as she nudged Emily. Her sister’s eyes followed hers, widening as they soared through the shimmering rings of a far-off planet. The rings comprised billions of particles, some no larger than grains of sand and others as large as small houses, all sparkling like diamonds against the black expanse of space. The light fractured and refracted through the icy debris, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that left both girls momentarily speechless.

Ahead, the Amazon homeworld began to come into view. At first, it was a distant dot, indistinguishable from the other stars. But as they hurtled closer, its massive size became apparent. The planet dominated their vision, its surface a breathtaking mosaic of greens, blues, and deep golden hues. Vast oceans glittered beneath swirling clouds, and sprawling continents stretched in intricate patterns, their terrain dotted with mountain ranges, rivers, and dense forests.

Hannah’s heart raced as they passed through the planet’s outer atmosphere, the tunnel glowing brighter as it began to narrow. The homeworld’s details grew sharper, with the towering spires of cities visible even from the heights of their approach. Fields of gold and silver stretched across the landscape, and the faint flicker of transport crafts darted between the towering metropolises.

The tunnel’s light shifted again, its brightness intensifying until it enveloped them completely. Hannah instinctively closed her eyes, the golden warmth pressing against her skin like a comforting embrace.

And then, it was over.

The light faded, and Hannah felt the familiar sensation of solid ground beneath her feet. The weightlessness vanished, replaced by the pull of gravity and the warmth of the air. She opened her eyes slowly, her breath catching as she took in their new surroundings.

The room became focused as the golden light faded and the transfer platform dimmed. Hannah blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sterile, clinical lighting. The room was almost identical to the one they had left on Earth—smooth, metallic walls, an impersonal hum of machinery, and the faint scent of ozone lingering in the air.

But as expected, everything felt bigger.

Hannah and Emily had been here before, so they knew what to expect. They had prepared themselves for the towering walls, the oversized furniture, and the world seen from the perspective of babies. It was the same unsettling scale they had experienced during their first visit to the Amazon homeworld. And yet, something felt… different.

Hannah glanced at Emily, her stomach twisting as she took in the subtle but unmistakable changes. Emily had always been slightly taller than her, but now the difference was striking. Her sister’s frame seemed sturdier, her presence more imposing. It wasn’t that Emily had grown; Hannah had shrunk—more than before.

A faint unease prickled at the edges of Hannah’s thoughts as she glanced down at her hands. They were smaller, her fingers thinner and more delicate than she remembered. Her clothes, while still fitting, seemed looser in ways that hadn’t been true during their first trip.

Emily noticed her hesitation immediately. She crouched slightly, her green eyes meeting Hannah’s with a mix of concern and reassurance. “You okay?” she asked softly, her voice steady but tinged with worry.

Hannah swallowed hard, her throat dry. “I… I think I’m smaller than last time,” she admitted, her voice a little higher-pitched, more childlike than she wanted it to sound.

Emily’s gaze swept over her, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah,” she said quietly, nodding. “I think you are.” She reached out, placing a hand gently on Hannah’s shoulder. “But it’s okay. We knew this might happen.”

Hannah nodded faintly, her gaze darting around the room. The chairs along the walls seemed impossibly large, their legs thick and sturdy like tree trunks. The control panel near the far wall was now well above Emily’s eye level, completely out of reach for Hannah. Even the door they had come through loomed higher than before, a silent testament to her reduced size.

They had expected this—the towering world, the humbling scale of everything. But knowing didn’t make it easier to accept. Hannah’s stomach churned at the thought of being even smaller, even more helpless than their last visit. The Amazon homeworld had been daunting enough the first time. Now, it felt insurmountable.

Emily gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, drawing her attention back. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice steady. “We’ve got this. Welby’s waiting for us, and he’s got everything under control. We just have to trust him.”

Hannah looked up at her sister—up. It was a small thing, but it made her heart ache. She had always admired Emily’s strength, her ability to stay calm even in the face of impossible odds. And now, standing here, smaller and more vulnerable than ever, Hannah knew she needed that strength more than ever.

“Okay,” Hannah said quietly, her voice trembling but determined. She reached for Emily’s hand, finding comfort in the warmth and firmness of her sister’s grip.

As Hannah stood there, still processing her diminished size, she felt an unsettling shift around her waist. Her pants, which had fit snugly before the transfer, slid down her legs in a sudden, embarrassing drop, pooling around her feet. The waistband of her diaper sagged, its once-secure fit now loose and precarious. Her blush deepened as she grabbed the fabric, trying to hold everything in place.

Emily turned quickly at the sound of the fabric hitting the floor, her eyes widening as she took in the sight. “Oh, Hannah…” she said softly, her voice tinged with concern.

Hannah’s cheeks burned, humiliation flooding her as she struggled to gather her pants. “I… I’m fine,” she stammered, though the quaver in her voice betrayed her. “It’s just… my clothes…”

Emily dropped to one knee, her green eyes steady and reassuring as she gently reached for Hannah’s hands. “Let me help,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “You’re not fine, and that’s okay.”

Hannah hesitated, her fingers clutching the loose waistband of her pants. The warmth of Emily’s presence and the steadiness in her voice eased the tension in her chest, and she reluctantly let go. Emily worked quickly, redoing the tabs of Hannah’s diaper with practiced precision, pulling the padding snugly around her sister’s smaller frame. The adhesive strips crackled softly as she adjusted them, ensuring the diaper wouldn’t slip again.

“There,” Emily said softly, her voice soothing. “That’s better.” 

But she wasn’t done. She carefully pulled Hannah’s pants from the floor and pulled them back up. The fabric was far too loose now, but Emily tugged at the drawstrings, cinching them tightly around Hannah’s waist until they held. She tugged at the cuffs to smooth them out, her hands deft and efficient.

Hannah stood silently, her blush still bright, as she avoided Emily’s gaze. The humiliation of needing help and having her diaper readjusted gnawed at her pride. However, Emily’s calm demeanor and focus on the task without a hint of judgment eased some of the sting.

Emily stood, brushing her hands against her pants, looking down at Hannah. Her lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile. “There we go,” she said gently. “All fixed.”

Hannah finally dared to meet her sister’s gaze, her eyes shimmering with gratitude despite the lingering embarrassment. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Emily reached out, placing a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly, her tone light but firm. “This isn’t your fault, okay? We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Hannah nodded, her chest tightening as she swallowed the lump. For all the indignities this world had thrown at them, Emily had always been her rock. And even now, smaller and more vulnerable than ever, Hannah knew she could lean on her sister.

Emily offered her hand again, and Hannah took it, her warmth and strength grounding her. They turned back toward the door, their steps steady as they moved forward together.

Before they reached the door, Hannah hesitated, her steps faltering as doubt began to creep in. The excitement she had felt before—the thrill of returning to see Welby, the anticipation of reuniting with the man who had become such a steady presence in their lives—was overshadowed by an all-consuming worry.

She glanced down at herself, her clothes awkwardly tightened to fit her shrunken frame, her diaper snug but undeniably oversized. The reality of her diminished size pressed heavily on her. The last time she had transferred to the Amazon homeworld, she had been small—smaller than she’d ever been on Earth—but retained a semblance of autonomy. She had been the size of a toddler, able to walk and move independently, even if the Amazons saw her differently.

This time, though… this time was different. She hadn’t expected to shrink as much as she had. The fear gnawed at her, twisting her stomach into knots. She worried that she wouldn’t even have the freedom she had last time, that she would be rendered even more helpless, more at the mercy of the towering Amazons who dictated so much of this world’s rules.

Her gaze flicked to Emily, who was watching her with calm, reassuring eyes, but even her sister’s steady presence couldn’t entirely ease the storm brewing in Hannah’s mind. The contract they had crafted with Welby was airtight—she knew that. It had been scrutinized by Earth authorities, vetted by legal experts, and designed to protect them against the worst this world could offer. They would only be here for a month at most, and Welby had promised, over and over, that he would ensure their safety and dignity.

But what if it wasn’t enough?

Hannah’s mind raced with questions, each more unsettling than the last. What if Welby couldn’t protect them? What if someone found a loophole they didn’t anticipate? What if… She swallowed hard, her throat dry as the thought finished itself in her mind. What if she had bitten off more than she could chew?

Her chest tightened, the enormity of their decision pressing down on her like a weight. She had agreed to this journey for many reasons—for Welby, Emily, and herself. She wanted closure, a chance to prove that she could face this world and become stronger. But now, standing here, smaller and more vulnerable than ever, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had made a mistake.

“Hannah,” Emily’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, soft but firm. She knelt slightly, bringing her eyes level with Hannah’s. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Hannah hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tried to find the words. “I’m… I didn’t think I’d shrink this much,” she admitted, trembling. “Last time, I was small, but this… this feels different. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

Emily’s expression softened, and she reached out, placing her hands gently on Hannah’s shoulders. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “This is different. But we’ve been through worse, Hannah. And we’ve come out stronger every time.”

Hannah looked down, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. “What if it’s too much?” she whispered. “What if I can’t handle it?”

Emily squeezed her shoulders gently, her voice steady and sure. “You’re not in this alone,” she said. “I’m here. Welby’s here. We’ve got a plan, and we’ve got each other. And if it ever feels like too much, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Hannah met Emily’s gaze, the sincerity in her sister’s eyes grounding her. The knot in her chest loosened slightly, though the worry lingered at the edges of her thoughts. She nodded slowly, her voice quiet but resolute. “Okay.”

Emily smiled, giving her shoulders one last squeeze before straightening. “We’ve got this,” she said, holding her hand.

Hannah hesitated momentarily before taking it, the warmth of Emily’s grip steadying her. Together, they turned back toward the door, their steps slow but purposeful as they prepared to face the world waiting for them.

*

Ash sat frozen in her seat, her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the tiny, naked form lying in the heap of Miss Kaylee’s discarded clothing. The reality of what had just happened pressed down on her like a weight, her mind racing to understand everything.

Miss Kaylee, the towering Amazon who had always exuded authority and control, was now no bigger than an infant. Her diminutive form shifted slightly in the pile of fabric, a faint whimper escaping her lips as she stirred.

The sight sent a cold shiver down Ash’s spine. What should she do? The question echoed in her mind, her instincts warring between self-preservation and the surreal responsibility now thrust upon her.

Before Ash could move, the sharp sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. She glanced up to see a stewardess approaching, her neatly pressed uniform contrasting Ash's internal chaos. The woman’s expression was one of practiced calm, but as her eyes fell on Miss Kaylee’s naked form, a flicker of disapproval creased her brow.

“Excuse me,” the stewardess said, clipped but polite. She gestured toward the pile of clothing on the seat. “I couldn’t help but notice… you can’t leave a Little like that. It’s against the Little Care Act.”

Ash blinked, the words washing over her in a haze of disbelief. The Little Care Act? Her mind scrambled to process the stewardess’s assumption, but the woman reached for the pushcart beside her before she could respond. With practiced ease, she retrieved a folded diaper, holding it out to Ash with a pointed look.

“As a mother,” the stewardess continued, her tone carrying a faint edge of reprimand, “you should know better. Littles need proper care, and that includes keeping them clothed and comfortable. Please address this immediately.”

Ash stared at the diaper in the stewardess’s outstretched hand, her fingers trembling as she reached for it. The soft, pastel-colored garment felt almost absurd in her grip, a stark reminder of her surreal situation.

“I… I didn’t…” Ash began, her voice faltering as she tried to explain. But the stewardess didn’t wait for an excuse.

“Thank you,” the woman said briskly, signaling the end of the conversation. She turned and walked away, retreating down the aisle as Ash remained rooted.

Ash looked back down at Miss Kaylee, her heart pounding. The moment's irony wasn’t lost on her—how many times had she been the one in this position, stripped of her autonomy and left to the whims of an Amazon? And now, the roles were reversed, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on her shoulders.

Her gaze flicked to the diaper in her hand, then back to Miss Kaylee’s small, vulnerable form. The stewardess’s words echoed in her mind: Littles need proper care.

Ash swallowed hard, her throat dry as she tried to steady her breathing. This wasn’t what she had planned—none of it was—but for now, she had no choice but to act.

With careful hands, she unfolded the diaper, the soft crinkle of the material breaking the tense silence around her. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the task ahead.

“Okay,” she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible. “You can do this.”

As she reached for Miss Kaylee, her hands trembling slightly, Ash couldn’t help but feel the bitter irony of the situation. The lines between victim and caregiver had blurred in ways she had never anticipated, and the weight of that realization settled heavily on her chest.

Ash stared down at Miss Kaylee’s tiny form, now curled within the heap of oversized clothing. Her hands trembled slightly as she carefully removed the ill-fitting garments hanging limply on Miss Kaylee’s infant-sized body. The reality of the situation pressed down on her like a suffocating weight, her emotions a swirling storm of dread, anger, and something she couldn’t quite name.

She unfolded the diaper, her fingers brushing against the soft material as the faint crinkle echoed in her ears. The sound brought back a rush of memories—memories she had fought to bury. Memories of being in Miss Kaylee’s exact position, stripped of her independence and forced into a life she hadn’t chosen.

Her stomach churned as she slipped the diaper beneath Miss Kaylee, fastening it snugly around her tiny waist. The once-commanding Amazon looked exactly like a Little, the thick padding emphasizing her new size and vulnerability. A stark, jarring transformation sent a chill through Ash’s spine.

As she finished smoothing the front of the diaper to ensure it fit properly, Ash sat back, her hands trembling in her lap. Her gaze lingered on Miss Kaylee, now peacefully oblivious in her regressed state. On one hand, the sight was almost… familiar. It reminded Ash of her time at the daycare, caring for Littles, who were just as small and fragile. She had grown to love that work, finding purpose in creating a safe, nurturing space for those who needed it. It had been what drove Ash to start a daycare of her own, one she had been traveling to.

But on the other hand, the sight brought a wave of bitterness that Ash couldn’t suppress. She thought of her own time as a regressed Little—her body reduced, her autonomy stripped away, her every move dictated by the will of others. The helplessness, the humiliation, the constant reminder that she was no longer in control. It had been a waking nightmare, and the echoes of that trauma still haunted her in the quiet hours of the night.

Ash clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to steady her breathing. “Never again,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. The words were a vow, a promise she had made to herself and one she intended to keep.

Her eyes flicked back to Miss Kaylee, and her expression conflicted. She didn’t know what had driven the Amazon to such desperate measures, but the betrayal stung deeply. Miss Kaylee had been a source of stability, a figure Ash had trusted and even relied on. And now? Now, she was just another reminder of the fragility of that trust.

Ash exhaled shakily, leaning back in her seat as the plane’s engines droned on. The diapered form before her symbolized her survival and reminded her of the battles she had fought to reclaim her life.

For now, Ash would take care of Miss Kaylee—if only because she couldn’t bring herself to do otherwise. But the weight of what had happened and the betrayal it represented would linger long after the plane touched down.

Ash sat motionless, staring at Miss Kaylee’s diapered, regressed form, her breathing shallow and uneven. The enormity of what had just happened weighed down on her chest, squeezing her lungs, her mind spinning with the realization of how close she had come to losing everything again.

Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes, the first slipping free and tracing a warm, silent path down her cheek. She bit her lip, trying to hold them back, but the effort was futile. The fear, the betrayal, the overwhelming memory of her trauma—it was too much.

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling as she cried softly, the sound barely audible over the steady hum of the plane engines. Her tears fell freely now, streaking her flushed cheeks, her hands gripping the armrests of her seat as though they might anchor her against the storm of emotions threatening to consume her.

She was going to do it, Ash thought, the words repeating like a mantra in her mind. She was going to strip Ash of everything again. The horror of it made her stomach churn, her breath hitching as she fought to steady herself. The memories of her time as a regressed Little—the helplessness, the humiliation—came rushing back in vivid clarity, each sharper than the last.

Ash pressed a trembling hand to her face, covering her mouth as her silent sobs shook her frame. She felt so small, so powerless, and yet she knew she couldn’t afford to let herself fall apart. Not now. Not here.

Her tears began to slow, her breathing evening out as she forced herself to focus on the present. But just as she began to regain a semblance of composure, a soft sound drew her attention.

Miss Kaylee stirred.

Ash’s breath caught, her body rigid as she watched the tiny figure shift in the heap of clothing. The movements were slight at first—a twitch of a hand, a faint stretch—but then, with a small whimper, Miss Kaylee’s eyes fluttered open.

The two locked gazes.

Ash felt her heart lurch, her chest tightening as she stared into Miss Kaylee’s wide, groggy eyes. For a moment, neither moved, the silence between them thick and charged. Ash’s tear-streaked face mirrored the confusion and shock reflected in Miss Kaylee’s tiny features.

Miss Kaylee parted her lips, a faint, questioning sound escaping her as she struggled to process her surroundings. Her gaze darted to Ash’s face, then down to her diminutive form, the diaper snug around her waist. The realization hit her like a wave, and her expression shifted from confusion to horror.

“Ash…” Miss Kaylee’s voice was barely a whisper, trembling as she tried to sit up. “What… what happened?”

Ash’s hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms as a fresh wave of emotions surged within her. Betrayal. Anger. Fear. She opened her mouth to speak but found her voice caught in her throat.

All she could do for a moment was stare, tears brimming in her eyes once more as the weight of the moment pressed down on her. What should she say? What should she do?

Miss Kaylee’s tiny hands reached out, her expression pleading. “Ash… please…”

Ash inhaled sharply, forcing herself to steady her trembling hands. “You were going… to strip me of everything,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Just like she did.”

Miss Kaylee’s eyes widened, her face pale as the words sank in. “No… no, I wasn’t—”

“Don’t,” Ash snapped, her voice cracking as she fought to keep her composure. “Don’t lie to me. Not now.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with Ash’s pain and anger. Miss Kaylee shrank back slightly, her tiny form trembling as she struggled to find the words to respond.

Ash wiped her tears with her hand, breathing shallowly as she wrestled her emotions into submission. “You don’t get to explain this away,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “Not after what you tried to do.”

The plane’s engines droned on, the sound filling the tense silence between them. Ash stared down at Miss Kaylee, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, unsure what to do next.