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Rylenne's Shrinking Research 2 - The First Subject - Micro on top of Toast
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 19:01:42 +0000 UTC
I have always had a fascination, or a curiosity, about a very specific scenario. I don't know why, but it's always been mesmerizing for me to imagine. What would happen if someone was shrunk to around one millimeter tall, and wound up on top of a piece of toast? I have tried this scenario with some of my clones, but it's not as exciting, I can predict their reactions, very well now in fact, even if they have no memory, every time they just react the same, if at all. Sometimes they are so confused and awestruck they just do nothing. I want to see what it would be like for a real person, someone who either does not have this fascination or even someone with a similar one, but recently, I have been obsessed with the idea of finding someone with a shrinking fetish. The psychology of it all is so interesting. How would they react? Would they love it, would they hate it, would it be mixed feelings? The possible emotions are endless, and I have to see what would happen. Luckily, I went online and found a few communities, and after observing them, I found someone perfect, a guy named Jasper. He was easygoing, enthusiastic, and has a genuine love of anything shrinking related. We talked for a little while, and I wound up telling him about my serum, after I felt like I could trust him, and asked him if he wanted to help test it. Honestly I was a bit nervous, but thankfully, he was on board, after sharing a bit of evidence that it was real, and safe, and showed my credibility. He was ecstatic actually, he could not believe his dream was coming true. It made me happy, hearing how thrilled he was, and how much he was looking forward to it. For the longest time, I thought nobody would ever be willing to do this. I thought I would have to resort on testing clones. There was only one other person I know who's aware of my fascinations, and actually shares some of them, but we had.. differing opinions, and nothing ever would work out between us, they would never be willing to test it, and the thought of shrinking someone who is unwilling and afraid again.. it's not something I want to think about, after last time. But now I do not have to worry, I have Jasper. I bought him a plane ticket to fly out to Laneton, to be the first true test subject, that will give me the best data yet, and the most satisfaction..
in this entry, and the next, you are Jasper, the first subject, and we will breakdown what happens during the experiment, what else could possibly happen, and why! In Part 4, the true story begins, and we switch perspectives to Jasper, and tell this story from him and other tinies perspectives.
To understand what happens, we need to consider the consequences of shrinking to 1 mm tall. A typical human is about 1.7 meters tall, so shrinking to 0.001 meters represents a linear scaling factor of s=0.001/1.7 ≈ 0.000588s . This means your height is reduced by a factor of about 1/1700. Since volume scales with the cube of the linear dimension, your volume (and thus mass, assuming constant density) scales as: s3=(0.000588)3≈2.03×10−10s^3. If an average human weighs 70 kg, your new mass would be: m=70×2.03×10−10≈1.42×10−8 kg, so that comes out to only 14.2 nanograms! So to me, you would weigh practically nothing. After I shrink you, I gently pinch you up with my pointer finger and thumb, and drop you down onto a fresh slice of toast.
Your eyes scale down proportionally, so the physical structure of your retina and lens is 1/1700th the original size. The wavelength of visible light (400–700 nm) doesn’t change, so light interacts with your eyes differently. The diffraction limit of your tiny pupils (pupil diameter ~0.002 mm / 1700 ≈ 1.2 μm/nanometers) means you can still resolve objects down to about the wavelength of light, but fine details (e.g., individual starch granules in the bread) might appear blurry unless they’re larger than ~1 μm. The toast’s surface, at 1 mm tall, would resemble a alien landscape or even a warzone:
Crumbs and pores: White bread toast has a porous structure with air pockets and starch matrices. Pores in white bread are typically 0.1–2 mm in diameter. At your scale, these pores appear as craters or caves 0.1–2 meters across—some larger than your height. Crumbs (0.01–1 mm) look like boulders.
Surface texture: The toasted crust has a rough, uneven surface due to Maillard reaction products and dehydrated starch. Microscopically, it’s a network of ridges and valleys. At 1 mm tall, these features (10–100 μm) appear as hills or gullies 1–10 cm high.
Color and light: The golden-brown color of toast comes from melanoidins formed during toasting. Your perception of color remains human-like, but the toast’s surface might seem more granular, with patches of light and shadow in the porous structure.
Touch: Shrinking is not currently real, but if it was, I highly doubt it would also automatically shrink your clothes, unless it was pure magic or specially designed clothing, so most likely, when I shrink you, your clothes are not shrinking with you. Without clothes, you’d feel the toast’s texture directly. The surface would feel coarse, like walking on a rocky beach with sharp ridges (microscopic starch fragments). The toast is warm (say, 50°C post-toasting), which you’d perceive as uncomfortably hot due to your high surface-area-to-volume ratio, accelerating heat transfer to your skin.
Smell: The aroma of toast (volatile compounds like furans and aldehydes) would be intense. Your olfactory receptors are scaled down, but the concentration of molecules in the air is unchanged, so the smell might overwhelm your tiny nasal passages.
Sound: Your ears are tiny, so high-frequency sounds (e.g., air molecules vibrating) might be more perceptible, but ambient sounds like a ticking clock would seem muffled and lower-pitched due to the mismatch between sound wavelengths and your ear size.
Your muscles scale down in cross-sectional area (s2s^2s^2), so your strength is proportional to: F∝s2≈3.46×10^−7. If a human can lift 70 kg, lets see how much you could lift now: 70×3.46×10−7≈2.42×10−5 kg, so that means you could lift 24.2mg. This is 1700 times your body mass (14.2 ng), so relative to your size, you’re incredibly strong—comparable to an ant. However, the toast’s surface poses challenges:
Terrain: The porous, uneven surface has “cliffs” (pore edges) and “boulders” (crumbs). A 0.5 mm pore is a 0.5-meter drop at your scale, risky but survivable due to low terminal velocity (see below).
Adhesion: At 1 mm, surface forces like van der Waals and capillary forces (if the toast is slightly moist) become significant. Your feet might stick slightly to the starchy surface, making walking feel like trudging through tacky sand.
Assume a toast slice is 10 cm × 10 cm (0.1 m × 0.1 m). You’re in the center, so the nearest edge is 5 cm (0.05 m) away. At normal size, a human walks at ~1.4 m/s with a stride length of ~0.7 m. Scaling down, your stride length is: 0.7×0.000588≈0.000412 m, so 0.412 mm. Your muscles’ contraction speed is roughly unchanged (nerve signals propagate similarly), but leg swing frequency may increase due to lower inertia. Assume you walk at a scaled speed: v≈1.4×0.000588≈0.000823 m/s=0.823 mm. The distance to the edge of the toast is 50 mm., so to walk there, assuming a straight path: t=500.823≈60.75 seconds≈ you could reach the edge in about 1 minute at one millimeter tall. However, the toast’s terrain isn’t flat. Pores and crumbs force you to climb or detour, potentially doubling or tripling the effective distance. A realistic estimate might be 2–5 minutes to reach the edge, depending on obstacles. If you fall into a pore (e.g., 1 mm deep), air resistance becomes significant. Your terminal velocity is a complicated calculation, and it is hard to type it out, so I will spare you of that calculation, but basically due your tiny mass, more air resistance, and a few other factors, it would be ~0.7 km/h, slow enough that a 1 mm fall (equivalent to 1.7 m at human scale) is unlikely to injure you. You’d flutter down like a tiny parachute. Also, as for how you would perceive time at one millimeter, you would not be small enough for your perception of time to change, but if you were smaller, it likely would, due to your then increased metabolism, and shorter neural pathways in your brain, but you are not that small yet. Getting of this slice of toast would not be sunshine and rainbows, there would also be some survival challenges!
Your high surface-area-to-volume ratio (A/V∝1/s) means you lose heat rapidly. If the toast is 122°F, you’d initially feel hot, but your body would struggle to maintain 98.6°F in cooler air (e.g., 68°F). Hypothermia could set in within minutes unless you stay on the warm toast. You would think that being on top of a hot slice of toast would burn you and you'd want to leave asap, but it would be the opposite in this scenario! Air viscosity at 1 mm feels thicker (Reynolds number decreases), but oxygen diffusion is unchanged. Your tiny lungs have a scaled-down volume, but metabolic rate scales with mass (s3s^3s^3), so you need less oxygen. You’d breathe normally, though air might feel “dense” when moving. At 14.2 ng, your energy needs are minuscule. A single starch grain (10 μm, ~10 pg) could sustain you for hours if you could digest it. However, finding and consuming food at this scale is challenging without tools. Reaching the edge is feasible in 2–5 minutes, but the edge may be elevated (toast on a plate). A 1 cm drop to the counter is 17 m at your scale. With low terminal velocity, you’d survive, but climbing down (e.g., via crust ridges) is safer.
The average human eye has an angular resolution of about 1 arcminute (1/60th of a degree, or ~0.00029 radians). At a typical viewing distance—say, 30 cm (0.3 m) from the toast on a counter—the smallest resolvable detail is: Resolution=0.3×0.00029≈0.000087 m=0.087 mm. Your height is 1 mm, which is ~11.5 times larger than this limit. Thus, a human could theoretically resolve you as a distinct object at 30 cm, assuming good lighting and contrast. At 1 mm, you’re about the size of a small ant or a large grain of sand. Your humanoid shape might be discernible to someone looking closely, but from a casual glance, you could blend in with crumbs or irregularities on the toast. Your skin (assuming typical pigmentation) contrasts moderately with the golden-brown toast (reflectance ~20–40% for toasted bread vs. ~50–80% for skin). If you’re moving, this contrast enhances visibility, as human eyes are sensitive to motion. White bread toast has a porous, uneven surface with crumbs (0.01–1 mm) and pores (0.1–2 mm). You’re comparable in size to larger crumbs, so you might be mistaken for debris unless you’re actively moving or in an open area. You’re noticeable with close inspection or deliberate attention, especially if moving. A casual glance might miss you, mistaking you for a crumb, but someone picking up the toast and looking at it closely (e.g., before eating) would likely spot you, particularly if you’re trying to be seen.
You’d feel vulnerable, naked on a vast, warm, crumbly landscape. The toast’s surface would stretch like a desert of golden ridges and dark craters. Each step might dislodge crumbs or stick slightly to starchy patches. The smell of toast would be overpowering, and the warmth would be both comforting and concerning. Visually, the world beyond the toast (e.g., kitchen) appears distant and distorted—objects 1 meter away seem 1.7 km away, hazy due to light scattering. The toast looks like a porous, boulder-strewn plain with craters and ridges, golden-brown and uneven. You can walk to the edge in ~2–5 minutes, climbing over crumbs and skirting pores. It’s physically possible but tiring. Time feels normal; nothing appears slower. Heat loss, sticky surfaces, and potential falls into pores are risks, but your strength and low terminal velocity make survival likely.
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One millimeter however, is not small enough. Lets make things interesting, and shrink you down further to 0.01 Millimeters!
A typical human is ~1.7 meters tall. Shrinking to 0.01 mm (0.00001 m) gives a linear scaling factor of: s=0.000011.7≈5.882×10−6. Your height is reduced by a factor of ~170,000. Volume (and mass, assuming constant density) scales with the cube of the linear dimension: s3=(5.882×10−6)3≈2.035×10−16s^3. If a human weighs 70 kg, your new mass is: m=70×2.035×10−16≈1.425×10−14 kg=14.25 femtograms. A femtogram is one-thousandth of a picogram, which is one-thousandth of a nanogram, which is a billionth of a gram. Femtograms are usually used to weigh bacteriums, so that is really saying something if we are using it to weigh you. Your density remains ~1000 kg/m³ (human-like). Surface area scales with the square of the linear dimension: s2=(5.882×10−6)2≈3.460×10−11s^2. For a human surface area of ~1.8 m², your new surface area is: A=1.8×3.460×10−11≈6.228×10−11 m^2=6.228×10−5 mm^2. The surface-area-to-volume ratio (A/V∝1/s) is 100 times higher than at 1 mm, so that makes surface forces and heat transfer even more dominant.
Before, at 1 mm, you perceived time normally, but now that you are only 0.01, everything around you seems to move slower..
From a physics standpoint, time itself doesn’t change—relativity (e.g., time dilation) requires extreme speeds (near light speed, 3 × 10⁸ m/s) or gravitational fields, neither of which apply here. Your 300 mm/s motion is only 10⁻⁶ c—negligible. However, perceived time could differ due to your size and biology:
Neural processing: Smaller organisms (e.g., insects) process sensory input faster due to shorter neural pathways. A human neuron signal travels at ~100 m/s, taking ~0.017 s to cross a 1.7 m body. At 0.01 mm, your “nervous system” (if scaled) is 170,000 times smaller, so signals might take ~10⁻⁷ s—a million times faster.
Metabolic rate: Tiny creatures (e.g., mites) have higher metabolic rates, perceiving events more rapidly. If your perception scales inversely with size, events might seem ~100–1000 times slower.
(However, there is no definite proof that your metabolic rate or neural processing would change when shrunk, but lets assume that my shrinking serum does indeed change those when shrinking past a certain size, since survival would be very difficult if it didn't. It would be like if you took away a fly's great reaction time. A fly can dodge a swatter because of it's neural processing and metabolic rate. Things don't move super duper slow, but slow enough that the fly can react in time, otherwise, they would be helpless. So that is why I believe that when shrunk, your neural processing or metabolic rate would indeed change, either because the serum specifically does so, or shrinking naturally changes it. I feel like that is better anyways, it's more immersive and really amplifies size difference and feeling of scale)
What Would the Toast Look Like now that you are 0.01 Millimeters?
Your eyes are now ~10 μm across, with pupils ~0.02 mm / 170,000 ≈ 0.012 μm. The diffraction limit of light (wavelength 400–700 nm) becomes a major constraint. The angular resolution of your eyes is limited by: θ≈1.22λD, Where λ≈500 nm=0.5 μm and D≈0.012 μm: θ≈1.220.50.012≈50.8 radians. This is physically nonsensical (angles don’t exceed π/pi), indicating your pupils are smaller than the wavelength of light. You’d effectively be blind to normal images, as light scatters incoherently. Instead, you might perceive vague gradients of light and shadow, like a fog of color. The toast’s features would be indistinguishable visually, resembling a blurry, golden haze. At 10 μm tall, you’re comparable to a single cell or a starch granule in bread. The toast’s surface is a complex matrix:
Pores: Bread pores are 0.1–2 mm (100–2000 μm). At your scale, a 0.1 mm pore is 10,000 μm = 10 meters across—a vast chasm. You’re unlikely to encounter a pore’s edge unless you travel far, as they’re sparse relative to your size.
Starch granules: White bread contains starch granules ~1–30 μm in diameter. These appear as boulders or hills 0.1–3 meters wide/tall, dominating the landscape.
Crust surface: The toasted crust has microcracks and dehydrated starch/protein networks (1–10 μm features). These look like ridges or cliffs 0.1–1 meter high, forming a rugged terrain.
Crumbs: Crumbs (0.01–1 mm = 10–1000 μm) are massive, like mountains 1–100 meters tall.
So therefore, the toast resembles a rocky, mountainous desert with giant starch “boulders” and occasional cavernous pores, but you can’t see it clearly due to visual limitations.
Your surface-area-to-volume ratio is enormous: A/V∝1/s≈170,000. That means heat loss is catastrophic. If the toast is 122°F, you’d overheat rapidly (Newton’s law of cooling: Q∝A) . In 68°F air, you’d lose body heat (98.6°F) in seconds, risking hypothermia. Staying on the warm toast is critical, but even then, thermal equilibrium is hard to maintain. Oxygen diffusion is efficient at 10 μm, as diffusion time scales with s2s^2s^2. Your metabolic rate (∝s^3) is tiny, so you need little oxygen. However, air feels viscous, and breathing might feel like inhaling through a straw in syrup. You’d still get enough oxygen, likely via diffusion through skin, as lungs are less effective. Your energy needs are negligible (~10⁻¹⁵ W). A single starch molecule or lipid droplet (nm scale) could sustain you, but ingesting it is nearly impossible without specialized organs. Starvation is a long-term risk, but not immediate. Reaching the edge takes hours due to terrain and adhesion. The edge may be a 1 cm drop (1 km at your scale), but with vt≈0.006m/s, you’d fall safely. Climbing down crust ridges (1–10 μm) is feasible but slow. You’re essentially blind, sensing the world through touch and faint smells, since not much is visible at your size. The toast feels like a jagged mountain range of starch boulders and crust cliffs, warm but sticky underfoot. Each step is a battle against adhesive forces, like walking on glue. The air feels thick, resisting movement. You’d feel utterly alien, vulnerable, and disoriented, with the toast’s vastness stretching like a planet. The kitchen beyond is imperceptible, lost in a haze of scattered light.
Would I still be able to see you?
At 0.01 mm (10 μm), you’re 100 times smaller than at 1 mm. Using the same visual resolution at 30 cm: Resolution=0.087 mm=87 μm. Your height (10 μm) is ~8.7 times smaller than the smallest resolvable detail. Even at a closer distance of 10 cm (resolvable detail ~29 μm), you’re still ~2.9 times smaller than what the naked eye can resolve. The human eye cannot distinguish you as a distinct object without magnification. At 10 μm, you’re the size of a large bacterium, a red blood cell (7 μm), or a small starch granule in the bread (1–30 μm). Your humanoid shape is far too small to be recognized, even with a magnifying glass (which typically resolves ~100 μm). You’re effectively a speck, indistinguishable from microscopic dust or starch particles. The toast’s surface at this scale is a landscape of starch granules (1–30 μm), protein networks, and microcracks (1–10 μm). You’re smaller than most granules, blending seamlessly into the matrix. Even in a “smooth” area, microscopic irregularities dwarf you. You’re completely invisible at 10 μm, you’re well below the diffraction limit of human vision (~200 μm under ideal conditions, accounting for light wavelength ~500 nm). No amount of motion or contrast makes you detectable without tools. However, a standard magnifying glass (2–10×, resolving ~100–200 μm) still can’t resolve your 10 μm form. A microscope (100×, resolving ~1 μm) would be needed. Even if you’re moving at ~8.235 μm/s (as calculated previously), your displacement is too small to register. Over 1 second, you travel ~8.2 μm, which is undetectable against the toast’s complex background. So the whole time you are trying to escape the toast, I would need a microscope to watch you struggle. I do not even need to explain why I would not be able to hear you, your teeny vocal chords could not possibly produce anything me or anyone could hear.
So in summary..
The toast is a blurry, mountainous landscape of 1–3 m starch granules and crust ridges, with pores as distant chasms. You’re nearly blind, relying on touch. Reaching the edge takes 2–10 hours due to sticky surfaces and obstacles. It’s possible but exhausting. Adhesion, heat loss/overheating, and essentially blindness make survival tough. Falls are safe due to low terminal velocity. This is only the beginning for you though, I have so much more planned, so much more for you to experience.. and you wont be alone down there for long.
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Here are some videos of bread/toast under a microscope, in case you are wondering what it would all look like realistically.
https://youtu.be/HkCVw842DpE?si=EOs5OPjFgqk9yHWj https://www.tiktok.com/microhobbyist/video/7445676921779752235 https://www.tiktok.com/@in_visible_world/video/7244138794776120603 https://www.tiktok.com/@microscope666/video/7069409981472329006
