The Innocent Cockroach

A jolt. You are small. Impossibly small. The world is a colossal landscape of rough textures and overwhelming scents. A discarded crumb, once insignificant, now looms like a mountain. Every shadow is a potential predator, every vibration a tremor of doom. This is new. This is terrifying. New player, huh? a thought flickers, alien yet familiar. Always the same, thrown into the deep end. Humans never get this part. Your tiny legs scurry, driven by an instinct you didn't know you possessed: survive.