As Alex and Luke continued their battle against the shadowy creatures, Vortagar raised his staff once more, his grin widening. He began to chant in a low, guttural tone, the words ancient and laced with dark magic. A strange, pulsating energy began to emanate from the crystal atop his staff, spreading outward like ripples in a pond. It reached Alex and Luke before they could react, surrounding them in an invisible force.
"What… what’s happening?" Alex gasped, feeling a sudden heaviness in his limbs. His punches slowed, and a strange tingling sensation spread through his body.
Luke, equally caught off guard, stumbled backward as his body was engulfed by the strange energy. "Something’s wrong," he muttered, his voice quivering with confusion. "I—I feel… weaker."
Vortagar’s malevolent laughter echoed through the clearing as the magic began to take effect. "You thought you could stand against me without your precious powers? Watch as I strip away your strength, your age, your very identity!"
The first changes were subtle—barely noticeable at first. Alex and Luke felt a growing sense of lightness, their muscles losing their familiar tautness. Their limbs, once lean and athletic, began to soften. Alex, mid-punch, suddenly found his arm shrinking, the sleeve of his shirt bunching awkwardly at the wrist as his body slowly began to regress.
Luke, too, felt it—his clothes no longer fitting right. His once well-fitted jeans started to sag around his waist, and the cuffs of his shirt drooped past his hands. He stared at Alex in disbelief. "No… this can’t be happening."
"It is," Vortagar sneered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "You’re becoming exactly what you were before you gained your powers—innocent, weak, helpless children."
Alex tried to shake off the strange feeling, clenching his fists in defiance. "No! We won’t let you do this!" But even as he protested, his voice was changing—his deep, confident tone cracking and shifting to something higher, more youthful.
Luke looked down at himself in growing horror as he saw his body shrinking, his legs and arms becoming shorter, his sneakers slipping from his feet as they no longer fit his rapidly diminishing form. His jeans pooled around his ankles, far too large for his thinning waist. "Alex… I’m getting smaller!" he cried, his voice now a high-pitched squeak of fear.
Alex could feel it too. His once athletic, muscular frame was softening, his body regressing to that of a child. His shirt, which had fit snugly across his broad shoulders, now hung loosely, the collar slipping down past his neck as he shrank even further. His shorts sagged, barely clinging to his hips, and his shoes slipped off entirely as his feet became tiny and delicate.
"I… I can’t stop it," Alex stammered, trying to pull up his oversized shirt, but his small hands were swallowed by the sleeves. He stumbled, tripping over his too-large shoes as he continued to shrink.
Luke’s body followed the same pattern. His formerly toned arms became small and chubby, his legs shortening as his jeans slipped down completely, leaving him struggling to hold them up. His shirt became a giant tent on his tiny frame, the fabric swallowing him as he grew smaller and smaller. His face, once angular and mature, rounded into the soft, cherubic features of a young boy.
"No! This can’t be real!" Luke yelled, his voice now that of a child, high-pitched and filled with panic. He tried to resist, but his body betrayed him as he continued to regress. His once sharp mind was clouded with confusion, a childish sense of fear creeping in as his surroundings seemed to grow larger.
By now, Alex and Luke were barely recognizable as the teenage warriors they had been moments ago. Standing before Vortagar, they had been reduced to two 8-year-old boys, their oversized clothes hanging off their small, frail bodies. Alex’s red T-shirt dwarfed him, the hem dragging on the ground, and his shorts hung limply around his tiny waist. Luke was in a similar state, his black jacket and jeans now comically large, his sneakers lying discarded next to him.
Vortagar took a step closer, his smile widening as he looked down at the two boys, who now had to tilt their heads back to see his towering figure. "Look at you," he mocked, his voice oozing with delight. "Once proud warriors, now nothing more than little children. How does it feel to be powerless, to have no strength, no way to fight back?"
Alex glared up at Vortagar, his face flushed with frustration and embarrassment. "This… this isn’t over," he said, his voice cracking as he tried to sound defiant. But the effect was ruined by his small, childlike voice. His fists were clenched, but they were small and soft, no longer capable of delivering the powerful strikes he had once been so proud of.
Luke, still clutching at his oversized clothes, couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes. "We’ll… we’ll find a way to stop you," he said, though his words lacked the confidence they once carried. He felt utterly vulnerable, standing there as a child, unable to even hold up his own pants.
"Oh, I doubt that," Vortagar sneered, crouching down to bring himself closer to their eye level. "You’re nothing now. You can’t even fit into your own clothes, let alone fight me. How does it feel, hmm? To be stripped of everything?"
Alex, his face reddening further, tried to step forward, but he stumbled in his oversized shoes and fell to his knees, the weight of his too-large shirt making it difficult for him to move. "We’ll get back to normal," he growled, trying to sound fierce, but his tiny voice made it sound more like a child’s tantrum.
Vortagar laughed, standing tall again. "You won’t. Not before I finish you off, anyway." He twirled his staff, and the shadowy creatures that had been circling nearby began to close in on the two boys, their glowing eyes fixed on their prey.
Alex and Luke, now powerless and trapped in their tiny, regressed forms, could only watch in fear as the monsters approached, knowing they no longer had the strength to defend themselves.