A Burger Falls from the Sky
Humans. Such careless, wasteful creatures. They go about their daily lives, completely oblivious to the teeming microscopic world that exists all around them. They drop food on the ground without a second thought, never considering the profound impact their actions might have on the tiny civilizations dwelling beneath their feet.
Ah! What’s this? It appears someone has just tossed an unfinished burger from the window of a passing train. How fortuitous! Let us follow this discarded morsel on its journey, shall we?
The burger tumbled through the air, patty separating from bun as it pinwheeled toward the earth. Shredded lettuce fluttered in the breeze like confetti, while a slice of processed cheese peeled away to parachute gently downward. The various components landed with soft plops and splats among the weeds and gravel lining the train tracks.
By some quirk of fate, the majority of the burger came to rest in a secluded nook between two warped wooden railroad ties. It was the sort of spot that tended to be overlooked during routine track maintenance – a haven for all manner of small creatures seeking shelter or sustenance.
What would become of this castoff meal? Perhaps the local bird population would descend upon it, pecking and squabbling over choice morsels. Or maybe industrious ants would discover it, marching in orderly lines to systematically dismantle and cart away every last crumb. Given enough time, an array of microorganisms would surely break it down, atom by atom.
But wait! What’s this? The first beings to reach the burger were neither birds nor insects. No, the initial explorers of this fast food frontier were far stranger and more fascinating.
Behold the scopicitae! These tiny humanoid creatures, invisible to the naked human eye, emerged from the surrounding detritus to investigate the enormous windfall that had quite literally fallen from the sky. Each scopicitae was a unique marvel of microscopic evolution, their bodies adapted to thrive in the harsh realm between atoms and molecules.
They scurried about on minuscule legs, their forms a dizzying array of textures and appendages. Some sported hard shells that gleamed like polished gemstones, while others were covered in fine, iridescent scales. Delicate antennae twitched atop their heads, sensing the air for potential dangers or opportunities.
Most notable of all were the intricate breathing apparatuses affixed to their faces, essential tools for surviving the varied atmospheres of their microscopic world.
Among their number was a most peculiar individual – a scopicitae who stood out from his kin as surely as that burger had stood out amid the dull gravel of the train tracks.
His name was Elyndor, and he was a scopicitae like no other. Where his brethren might have hard shells or leathery hides, Elyndor’s body was covered in a thick, luxurious fur that shimmered with an almost metallic sheen. A pair of delicate, transparent wings were folded neatly against his back, hinting at his ability to flit through the microscopic air currents.
Most striking of all were his eyes – three of them, arranged in a triangle on his face, each a different iridescent color that seemed to shift and swirl as he surveyed his surroundings. His breathing apparatus was more elaborate than most, with additional filters and tubes that spoke to a life spent exploring diverse and potentially hazardous environments.
While most of his brethren were content to live simple lives of scavenging and surviving, Elyndor’s mind was filled with lofty aspirations. He dreamed of adventure and discovery, of venturing beyond the confines of the tiny world he had always known. This was no mere fanciful whim, mind you. Elyndor had a purpose, a driving obsession that consumed his every waking moment.
He was searching for treasure.
Not just any treasure, mind you, but a legendary hoard whose location was supposedly revealed on an ancient map. Elyndor had heard whispered tales of this map since he was a young scopicitae barely old enough to toddle about on his own six legs. Over the years, his desire to find it had grown from a childish fancy into an all-consuming passion.
And so, while his fellow scopicitae swarmed eagerly over the newly-arrived burger, Elyndor’s thoughts were elsewhere. He picked his way carefully around the edge of an enormous sesame seed, antennae twitching as he muttered to himself.
“It’s got to be around here somewhere,” Elyndor grumbled, his tiny voice barely audible even in the relative quiet of the train tracks. “Old Whiskers swore up and down that he’d seen it in this area. Unless that mangy furball was lying again just to get an extra ration of mold spores…”
He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t notice when a massive shadow fell over him. Elyndor looked up just in time to see an enormous chunk of burger bun plummeting toward him. With a yelp of alarm, he dove out of the way, rolling to safety mere micrometers from where the bready projectile slammed into the ground.
“By the great mold mother!” Elyndor exclaimed, picking himself up and dusting off his exoskeleton. “What in the name of all that is microscopic was that about? I could have been squashed flatter than-“
He froze mid-sentence, eyes widening in horror. In his haste to avoid being crushed, he’d dropped the scrap of plant fiber he’d been using to jot down notes about potential map locations. That makeshift notepad now lay partially buried beneath the chunk of burger bun, along with who-knew-how-many hours of painstaking research.
“No no no no no!” Elyndor cried, scurrying over to the edge of the bun. He began to dig frantically, using all six of his arms to shift crumbs and scrape away at the spongy surface. “Come on, where are you? Don’t do this to me, you stupid scrap of cellulose!”
So intent was he on his desperate excavation that Elyndor failed to notice the commotion unfolding behind him. The chunk of burger bun was quivering and shaking, as if something inside was struggling to break free. Suddenly, with a spray of breadcrumbs, a small figure burst forth from within the processed wheat product.
It was another scopicitae – a young female, by the look of her. She tumbled head over heels, coming to rest in an ungainly heap a short distance from where Elyndor continued his frenzied digging. The newcomer was clearly disoriented, her antennae waving erratically as she tried to get her bearings.
“Wh-where am I?” she gasped, her voice high and breathy. “What happened? One minute I was munching away on some delicious burger, and the next thing I knew, whoosh! Everything went topsy-turvy!”
The young scopicitae’s words came out in a rushed jumble, tumbling over each other almost as chaotically as she herself had emerged from the bun.
This newcomer, who would soon introduce herself as Pippa, was a sight to behold even among the diverse scopicitae. Her body was covered in a soft, jelly-like skin that seemed to pulse with an inner light, changing colors rapidly in response to her excited state.
A pair of fluffy ears atop her head twitched and swiveled, catching every minuscule sound. Most remarkably, a long, prehensile tail curled behind her, its tip adorned with a small, bioluminescent bulb that glowed softly in the shadows of the burger bun.
Her breathing apparatus was smaller and simpler than Elyndor’s, clearly designed for the relatively stable environment of processed food rather than the varied terrains of the wider microscopic world.
Pippa was so caught up in her babbling that she didn’t immediately notice her labored breathing, but it quickly became apparent that something was amiss. Her jelly-like skin began to pucker and dry out, unused to the relatively arid conditions outside her burger home.
“Oh wow, it’s so different out here!” she exclaimed, struggling to draw in enough air. “The smells, the sounds, it’s all so- so-“
Her voice trailed off as she began to gasp and wheeze, tiny hands clutching at her thorax. The poor thing was clearly having difficulty breathing in her new environment, so different from the relatively moist interior of the burger where she had presumably hitched a ride.
It was at this point that Elyndor finally became aware of the commotion behind him. He turned, antennae twitching irritably at being interrupted in his search. His annoyance quickly turned to surprise, however, when he saw the young female scopicitae in obvious distress.
“Well, what do we have here?” Elyndor mused, regarding the newcomer with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. “Looks like somebody had an unexpected journey.”
He watched as the young scopicitae’s struggles grew weaker, her gasping breaths becoming more labored by the second. A part of Elyndor – the part that had been shaped by years of looking out for himself in a harsh microscopic world – urged him to turn away. It wasn’t his problem, after all. He had his own concerns to worry about, like finding that blasted map.
And yet…
Something about the young scopicitae’s plight tugged at Elyndor’s heartstrings. Perhaps it was her obvious youth and vulnerability. Or maybe she reminded him of himself, long ago, when he had first ventured out into the wider world beyond his colony.
With a sigh that was equal parts exasperation and resignation, Elyndor reached into one of the many pouches that adorned his exoskeleton. From it, he withdrew a tiny apparatus – a spare breathing device he kept for emergencies.
“Here,” he said gruffly, kneeling beside the gasping young scopicitae. “Put this on before you suffocate, you silly nymph.”
With practiced ease, Elyndor helped affix the breathing apparatus to the young female’s face. Almost immediately, her labored gasps began to ease as the device filtered and processed the air, making it suitable for scopicitae respiration.
“Th-thank you,” she managed to stammer between gulps of processed air. “I thought I was going to- to-“
“Yes, yes, you’re welcome,” Elyndor cut her off, already turning back toward the chunk of burger bun where his notes lay buried. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have important work to get back to.”
But the young scopicitae was not so easily dismissed. As her breathing steadied and her strength returned, so too did her apparently boundless energy and curiosity.
“Wow, that was amazing!” she exclaimed, bouncing to her feet. “I’ve never seen anything like this device before. How does it work? Oh, I’m Pippa, by the way. What’s your name? Do you live around here? Have you ever been inside a burger before? It’s really quite cozy, you know, at least until it starts moving and then everything gets all shaky and-“
Elyndor gritted his mandibles, doing his best to tune out the rapid-fire barrage of questions as he resumed his search for the lost notes. It was a futile effort. Pippa’s voice seemed to drill into his brain, making it impossible to concentrate on the task at hand.
“Look,” he said at last, turning to face the chattering young scopicitae. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and that’s all well and good. But right now, I need to focus on finding something very important that I lost when that oversized lump of bread nearly crushed me. So please, for the love of all that is microscopically sacred, could you be quiet for just a few minutes?”
Pippa’s antennae drooped slightly at Elyndor’s sharp tone, but her irrepressible spirit couldn’t be dampened for long. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she said. “I didn’t mean to bother you. Can I help you look? What are we searching for? Is it small? Large? Round? Square? Edible?”
Elyndor sighed heavily, realizing that he wasn’t going to get a moment’s peace unless he engaged with this pint-sized chatterbox. “It’s a piece of plant fiber,” he explained, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “About this big.” He held his hands apart to indicate the size. “I was using it to keep track of some very important information, and now it’s buried under all this…” He gestured vaguely at the chunk of burger bun.
Pippa’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Ooh, a treasure hunt! I love treasure hunts! Don’t worry, Mr… um, what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t,” Elyndor grumbled. “It’s Elyndor.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Elyndor!” Pippa chirped, already beginning to dig through the bread crumbs with enthusiasm. “We’ll find your important plant fiber thingy in no time!”
Despite his initial reluctance, Elyndor found himself grateful for the help as they searched together. Pippa’s boundless energy and smaller size allowed her to squeeze into tight spaces between the bread fibers that Elyndor couldn’t reach. As they worked, the sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the train tracks.
“It’s getting late,” Elyndor observed, glancing up at the darkening sky. “We’ll need to find shelter soon. It’s not safe for scopicitae to be out in the open after dark.”
Pippa paused in her digging, looking around with wide eyes. “Shelter? But where? Everything out here is so big and strange!”
Elyndor surveyed their surroundings, his experienced gaze taking in the potential dangers and opportunities. “The burger,” he said at last, pointing to the partially dismantled sandwich. “The bun is full of air pockets. If we can find one large enough, it should provide adequate shelter for the night.”
“Ooh, camping in a burger! How exciting!” Pippa clapped her hands together, momentarily forgetting about their search. “I’ve never slept in a burger bun before. Well, not intentionally, anyway. There was this one time when I dozed off while snacking and-“
“Yes, yes, very thrilling,” Elyndor cut her off, not unkindly. “But we need to hurry. It’ll be full dark soon, and that’s when the real predators come out.”
Together, they made their way to the burger, clambering over sesame seeds that loomed like boulders in their path. Elyndor led the way, his antennae twitching constantly as he remained alert for any signs of danger. Pippa followed close behind, peppering him with questions about life outside the burger.
“So, do you always wear that breathing thingy?” she asked as they picked their way across the pockmarked surface of the bun. “It looks kind of uncomfortable. Does it itch? Can you eat with it on? Oh! Can you use it to blow bubbles?”
Elyndor sighed, realizing that a bit of explanation might go a long way toward stemming the tide of questions. “The breathing apparatus is necessary for survival in many parts of the microscopic world,” he said. “The air out here is different from what you’re used to inside your… burger home. Without it, most scopicitae would suffocate within minutes.”
Pippa’s eyes widened. “Really? That sounds scary! How do you know so much about it? Are you some kind of scopicitae scientist?”
A wry chuckle escaped Elyndor’s mandibles. “Not exactly. I’m more of an… explorer. I’ve traveled far and wide across the microscopic realm, seeing things most scopicitae can only dream of.”
“Wow!” Pippa breathed, clearly impressed. “Is that why you’re out here? On some grand adventure?”
Elyndor hesitated, debating how much to reveal. His search for the treasure map wasn’t exactly a secret, but he’d learned the hard way that loose lips could lead to unwanted competition. Still, there was something about Pippa’s earnest curiosity that made him want to open up, if only a little.
“You could say that,” he said at last. “I’m searching for something. Something very important and very old. But it’s not easy to find, especially when one’s notes get buried under falling chunks of bread.”
Pippa’s antennae drooped sympathetically. “I’m sorry about that. It’s kind of my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t been in that chunk of burger…”
“No, no,” Elyndor assured her, surprising himself with his gentleness. “It’s not your fault. These things happen in our line of work. The important thing is to keep moving forward, to never give up on your dreams.”
They lapsed into silence for a moment as they continued their trek across the burger bun landscape. As they walked, Elyndor found his thoughts drifting to his own first days outside the safety of his home colony. He’d been young then, not much older than Pippa seemed to be now. The outside world had been terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure, full of wonders and dangers he could scarcely have imagined.
“You know,” he said at last, his voice softer than before, “I remember my first time venturing out into the wider world. It wasn’t easy. In fact, I almost didn’t survive.”
Pippa gasped. “What happened?”
Elyndor’s antennae twitched as he recalled those harrowing early days. “I was overconfident, unprepared. I didn’t have a proper breathing apparatus, for one thing. I thought I could tough it out, that my own lungs would adapt given time.” He shook his head ruefully. “I was wrong. If it hadn’t been for my old master finding me…”
He trailed off, lost in memories. Pippa waited for a moment, uncharacteristically quiet, before gently prompting, “Your master?”
Embark on a microscopic adventure story as we meet Elyndor, a scopicitae explorer searching for a lost treasure map. This solo TTRPG-inspired fiction takes an unexpected turn when a discarded burger crashes into Elyndor’s world, introducing the cheerful Pippa. Together, they begin their tiny heroes’ big adventure in a world where sesame seeds are boulders and bread crumbs are mountains.
Author’s Note:
Introducing Pippa was so much fun! I rolled for her personality traits using our solo ttrpg journaling game system, and her bubbly nature just popped right off the page. Can’t wait to see how she and Elyndor’s dynamic develops!
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