《Seventh Sentre》 Chapter 0: Prologue Beginning initialization... Minimum system operation...
| Entity: | | Time: Unknown | | Location: Subterranean, Unknown | | Status: Stable | Ugh... quit the yapping... Error: Uncharacteristic behavior detected. Running Basic Scan... Error: Excessive mental resolution unsuitable for minimum processing detected. Logging start... Log #2587052 Finished, Rebooting...
| Person: Cathorine F. Liethre | | Time: 9:42 PM | | Location: Berith Honor Pkwy, Gernkin Hospital | | Status: Panicked, Under High Stress | Please be fine! Her thoughts were a mess as she rushed up to the counter, practically shoving her ID into the clerk''s hands. "I''m here for Jackson Liethre. He''s here, isn''t he?" Just taking a quick glance at her and the photo identification, the clerk pointed down the long white hallway with beige hand rails to his left. "Please calm down, ma''am. He''s in Branch 4, Room 403, it''s on the left. Please try not to disturb the patient or nurse on duty as he is under high care and needs to rest." Snagging the card back, she rushed off in the given direction, albeit at a mildly slower pace to at least half abide by the plea of the staff. The last thing she wanted was to get kicked out and possibly even miss her last opportunity to be with the person she loved most dearly. The accident had been a brutal one. 44 vehicles damaged to varying degrees from crumpled-up scraps to soon be recycled with doors pried off to remove their passengers to mild fender benders, plus the 17 people simultaneously rushed off to the hospital on the emergency rail. Still several lesser injured were left behind as there were only so many ambulances to take them. He had kindly let others go before himself, despite knowing full well the risk of prolonging his self-examination of insignificant injuries.
She had been in a public transport vehicle a few minutes slower than him and his electric hover. Noticing the sudden increase of traffic on the highway, she had tried to give him a call. When no answer came and she looked out the front window only to see a black smoke rising in the distance, she quickly hopped out of the transport to the dismay of the driver and hopped on her scooter. The only reason she''d taken the transport was because of her being late and him having warned her if he had to wait, she''d be going via alternative methods. He had always kept his word on that front too. Every. Single. Time. As she approached the wreckage, the first responders had just started prying a door off its hinges. Starting to get slightly panicked, glancing through all the vehicles and slowly calming down when she failed to see the unique chrome finish of the rather odd car. Really, it could hardly be called a car anymore; the new technology that permitted floating along instead of the typical rolling always grabbed the gaze of an unsuspecting passersby, being one of only 8 prototypes meeting the standard to be used on public roads. She looked and looked, only later finding him amongst the far less damaged vehicles at the front of the pileup. She was just about to be relieved until noticing the unconscious driver with a very small trickle of blood down one side of his face. Still, despite her sudden distress, she calmly tapped on the window to hopefully wake her closed-eyed lover. Almost immediately he flinched slightly and opened his eyes. Peering out the side glass at an non-EMS face. Smiling, he tried to roll down the window but soon found the glass retractor was damaged. Opening the door, he swung his legs out to get up and tried to do so only to be hit with nausea and dizziness. Noticing the moderate distress on his face forced her into action, stopping him from further movement. "Please take it easy, hun; you don''t know how bad you''re hurt." She cooed in a soft golden voice. The sound of her voice was all it took for him to relax a little and wait for his turn in the imaginary line of those who needed help. "What happened for all the mess to occur? The pileup seems to get worse the farther back in the pileup you go, not the other way around." She questioned while grabbing a cloth from the glovebox and tapping his face to clean off some of the blood he knew little about. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Jackson somehow coherently spoke, "I think something was crossing the road and made a bunch of people over-break, and most of us were able to slow down in time. However, those larger vehicles behind us had too much weight." pointing a thumb back to several freight trucks separating the two vastly different pictures that drew this odd crash. "Their excellent skills in looking ahead to slow down may have saved us in front of them, but along with their emergency braking and minor slamming into other drivers, everyone behind them found themselves in a reaction situation no one wants to be in." Looking back at the carnage of people helping other people from crumpled wreckage where you couldn''t tell where one car ended and another began, she sighed in acknowledgement and wondered just how horrible this crash would have been just 20 years earlier. The mass revision to vehicle safety in 2209 had reduced the highest human-generated toll on deaths besides war by over 88%. Much had changed in the years prior to that as well to shift vehicular deaths into seventh place out of everything else. Now it was a rarity to even hear of injury, let alone a broken bone from the now third most used type of transport. It was unfortunate that this had happened at all and would no doubt be on the virtual-vision worldwide that night. Eventually the paramedics and fire department made their way to the less damaged front part of the accident and got around to helping him into a laid-back position on a cushioned folding platform and applying immediate treatment on the side of the road. Naturally, he told them to get those in more need to hospitals before himself, seeing as he was actually conscious and not knocked out from the whiplash that most others had suffered. From her point of view, the accident was rather severe, but still he insisted that others go before him. He had taken notice of the truly worse condition of those around him. Not even bothering to look at the polished mirror that his car could have acted as. His head was still slightly bleeding but that was still less of an injury compared to the swath of people needing proper bandages for various levels of cuts to lacerations. He had deemed them more important to take to the hospital for proper treatment than himself. She knew there was no way a head injury was any less or more important than those around them. Right? Soon enough, a couple of ambulance pods returned from the most urgent of emergency room visits, having dropped off their previous patients and ready to take several at once lesser-injured involuntary members of this accident, including him. She was told which hospital sector they were in and that she would receive a call from them when he was determined stable or ready to return home.
She mulled over all that had happened in the last couple of hours, still hurrying down the hallways, peering at the signs telling her where branch 4 was. Double-checking that she had indeed come across the last hallway springing off the main junction, she walked over to the door and slowly slid it open. There he was.
| Entity: | | Time: 21:86?, Predicted 4 Minutes Have Passed | | Location: Subterranean?, Unknown Street?, Unknown Building? | | Status: Stable | Bright and dry. Warm yet uncomfortable... A twinge of pain in the mind and a feeling of butterflies in the stomach... then... dark and damp. Cold and unpleasant. Why do I feel so horrible suddenly? I was conscious and aware as a familiar hand held onto mine. Immobile but still awake. Right the hospital... I could have sworn the doctors said I would be fine in passing as they all thought I was unconscious. maybe a little numb from the drugs but not incoherent to conversation. So what went wrong? Am I dead? Am I in a coma from something? The crash wasn''t even that bad, just a mild concussion and a sprained arm. Although I do guess it was probably more than just mild since I blacked out and woke up in an ambulance rushing to a nearby hospital, sirens blaring. Now that I think about it with a little clarity, perhaps it was rather severe. But that doesn''t explain this feeling that I am surrounded by a place that seems just so... foreign. It is this thought that brings me back to the present situation and sensation. Darkness and a cool, damp place. Can I even feel that its damp or cold? Wait dark? What about this is unpleasant? I always liked dark places... I think? I can''t feel, see or even move, so why is it unpleasant? Shouldn''t it just be a feeling of limbo? I try to stretch and get no sensory feedback. There has to be a reason I can''t move at the very least... Stuck? I couldn''t tell if I wanted to. Immobile? Same story. Nothing to push off of? And I could tell how? Meaning no propulsion or locomotion? Oh here we go, separate trains of thought going on at the same time. Suspended in a liquid with no appendages? Highly doubtful. In space? Does this determine whether or not I need to breathe? Falling? First, I''d need an organ to sense motion and any form of perception to understand my orientation to a large body of mass. I feel like I''d know if I''m falling though. splat | Entity: !J?x$Uu ?1 | | Time: 00:21, Predicted 4 ?on?s HAve PAssed | | Locatiou: SubterrAueAu, Unkuowu | | StAtns: StAble, iN IuunmerAble Pieces | Chapter 1: New Reality | Entity: 1JxxSnN /! | | Time: 0?:21, Predicted 6 ?ou?s Have Passed | | Location: Subterranean, Unknown | | Status: Stable, In Innumerable Pieces |
Well, THAT doesn''t feel good. Not sure how far I fell really. For it to have conveniently taken long enough to go through so many scenarios in my head, it''d have to have been at least a few hundred feet. Also, my thoughts seem scattered. I think one thing and it comes from a direction? This seems odd. Shouldn''t my thoughts be contained within myself? It''s been a while and I sometimes feel myself being gathered by something sharp but its all too fuzzy to really understand "Kowaen evha oyu..." I think I''ll just ignore the random voice I heard from several directions at once. Something that has much more of my attention is that I have started to get the sense of touch. More accurately, sensing where I am. I''m everywhere! I''m on the floor, the walls, not on the ceiling if it could be called that, the strangely human-shaped object standing off to my upper left, another strange apparatus in the center of this space, plus I''m starting to slip into the cracks of some kind of narrow, mined-out vein. Oh man, the list goes on. Wait. Object and Human don''t exactly correlate, if I recall correctly... Hmmmm. ''Hello?'' . . . Well it was worth a shot. From what I''ve collected of my new non-anthropomorphic body, I have no mouth. This attempt at reaching out into the dull and colorless abyss that surrounds my lack of sharp senses for the mere speck of communication seems to have fallen on deaf mind waves. Or whatever telepathy would be called in the scientific field. ''APPOLOGIES, SETTING UP THIS THING FOR MENTAL TRANS-COMMUNICATION TOOK A LITTLE LONGER THAN EXPECTED'' ''GAH! That''s really frickin loud; whoever you are, turn the volume down!'' Not one moment later, I pay closer attention to the parts of my being moving around on the inaccurately designated object from earlier. Well less like they are moving around. They are more specifically moving with said person. Hunched over the only other slightly defined object is what I perceive as a truly gargantuan individual. From my perspective, they are at least 10 feet tall, and their hands would span 2 feet or more if they were splayed out. Their sheer might would make the biggest heavyweight lifters look the likes of children. In the few spaces where their clothes didn''t cover skin, I can feel the miniscule twitches of their large muscles flexing and relaxing even from where my center of view seems to reside. Quickly realizing their mistake, they go to remove a few items from this pedestal. ''Is this better?'' I could hardly hear it this time and tried to gesture, raising the volume to somewhere in-between. Naturally remembering my lack of appendages, I call back, ''Now too quiet; right in the middle would do.'' ''How about now?'' after some more tinkering had been done. ''Perfect!'' I reply cheerily. I was feeling a slight stress of mind having not spoken to anyone but myself until just moments ago. I''d have gone insane with no one to explain my situation; not to mention it also felt like a lot more time had passed for my mental than in reality. ''Excellent, now give just one moment and I''ll turn on the mana light so you may be able to see.'' This perplexed me. Mana? What do they mean by mana? Like the source of power for those cool spells seen in the vast variety of manga, anime, various forms of literature, and stories? Or is it the stuff that makes up the soul, like some of those meditation advertisements would have you believe or whatever? Without further notice, the world lit up. It was very warm. Like being a half-vampire in the sun. Uncomfortable to say the least, but hey, I could see! The smooth stone was carved away by water flowing by who knows how many years ago, leaving intricate lines up and down the walls, and the floor had been built in with wood to provide a standing space. It was attached to rope spanning far up and out of my view above. Most notably, there were only 2 walls. Before, if left to my own devices, I''d have imagined this place to have been in some kind of enclosed, curved pathway; my utter lack of senses makes me feel far less confident alone without this "Mana light." This was in fact nothing like a walkway and instead a ravine? ''You''re at the bottom of the elevator to the Benchak Amrill mine. We''re about 1200 strides down. Kinda surprised you can still respond with how much of your mass is missing.'' With this most recent message, they seem to grow exhausted and stand to full height and start winding a pulley system. ''It''ll be a quarter day till we''re at the top; I hope you don''t mind the wait.'' ''Well I suppose having someone to whom I can speak will be of benefit to both of us I suppose.'' Soon I feel a sensation of being pulled apart, not anything painful but discomforting. ''Say, would you be able to collect a bit of my "mass," as you called it? I''d like to have as much of myself as possible wherever I end up.'' This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. I didn''t know how to take it when they burst out laughing, the communication device relaying the feeling of being told a good joke. ''You''re a funny blob to think I''d be cleaning more of you up than I already have! Ha! You are clueless to what I''ve already done!'' With this, they continued their cranking of the crude cast metal gears, hoisting us up higher and higher. ''Well I suppose you''re right about that. Care to enlighten me? Just a while ago I was in a hospital bed after an accident that left many harmed.'' They turned their face to look in my general direction relaying an emotion of "Really? Are you blind or something?" energy. ''Well frankly yes, I am blind. In fact I think my perception is quite a bit less than what it should be.'' They paused their cranking for a brief moment, a little perturbed by my picking up on their internal quarreling. ''Eh, fair enough. You aren''t exactly in perfect condition so I suppose I ought not get mad for your lack of wellbeing.'' Resuming their task and looking down in a form of thought ''A few of the meanings you relayed a moment ago weren''t familiar. Something like a place where people get patched up by tools using healing mages and the such and a collision of metal boxes in which you travel? Not notions I''m familiar with.'' Here it really sinks in that this really isn''t the hospital; it isn''t a place I''d know. I''m not the me I used to know and there are far too many questions to pin down on some stranger I just met not 5 minutes ago. They continued, ''Either way, it sounds a hell of a lot like reincarnation to me, and if I were you, I''d stay quiet about it. People say that killing reincarnates grants all their memories and knowledge of other worlds. But don''t mind me, I''ll keep your secret safe; I aint gonna blab.'' Well great. It seems I can''t just go ask any question to anyone and explain my situation as to why I don''t know common knowledge in this unfamiliar land. At that, I take note of the large amount of sloshing in my immediate surroundings. It seems I hadn''t taken notice of the bucket my substance was now safely confined to, like how your nose is unfocused unless you strain your eyes looking at it. This new form had the benefit of not needing to flex a muscle to change the distance where my perceived focus was. Like zooming in on a page without any limits whatsoever. That is, until I realize its much harder to expand my point of focus than it is to bring it closer. Struggling to push my view back out, I get a notification.
Primary Skill Leveled: Perception Variation: LVL 1
Newly startled, I look out to the floating text. It just floated there idlily, as if awaiting input. Now curious, I reach out with my mind and pull it closer while shrinking its size. Quickly, as if picking up on my intentions, an intricate border fills in the space around it and buttons form for closing and acknowledging its information. Then, like pushing the OK button in a game, it faded away, and only a spec of light was left where it was. Quickly I noticed a change though, as it appeared to be static. Slowly floating down and away from me as we continued our accent. Grabbing onto it with something akin to a mental rope, I tied it to myself, my "brain," in a sense. That was maybe my worst and best decision, as much happened quickly after. New notifications popped up and information filled my "brain". A library on things I could never understand or know without years of just reading alone. Now that I get a feeling of it, it''s like I was reading for hundreds of years. Alone. Doesn''t help it all these books feel like fiction.
System User Authorized Setting Up Level and Status System... Status System Out of Date... Updating...
0%
1%
2%
99%
Done... Relaunch Needed: Finish Update Now? Y/N?
I see no reason not to. Yes.
Shutting Down Predicted Down Time: 211 Years
Now wait a sec- Chapter 2: A Little Assistance
210 Years 363.9 Days 23 Hours 53 Minutes 12 Seconds Remaining...
I felt a little groggy, like I needed to wake up. It would be safe to say I didn''t exactly wake up per se, but more became lucid whilst unconscious. Observing the slow countdown in front of me, I devolved into despair. Well, I guess it was a good run. I have no doubt that I will be long discarded as "unresponsive goop" before I reawaken. I didn''t even get to learn anything! No clues to a hopefully fun new world or even an owner of my person as goop fulfilling my role perfectly with my human-level intelligence. Now that I think about it, how common is sentient sludge in this world? Mr. or Mrs. Elevator Operator seemed like I was nothing out of the ordinary. Or perhaps I was a really rare find, and they were just humble about their newfound and highly valuable gelatinous mass. Either way, sitting here is really boring watching a timer slowly tick down a year every second... wait what? A YEAR EVERY SECOND! Wow, I thought for sure I''d go insane long before the timer ended. Human brain and all that logic. If that even applied. Perhaps the logic of a human mind is inappropriate for my circumstance... I mean, I do lack every known feature of a human, subtracting my form of sentience. Maybe my perception of time can be altered, similar to how I''m wizzing by time in a blink of an eye. Everyone I knew and became acquainted with long met their ends before I even projected another thought into the minds of another soul with whatever contraption my would-have-been rescuer used. A few minutes later, the ticking of time has slowed considerably to about 4 days a second, now gradually decreasing in increment with each update of the clock. "I''m glad I don''t have to wait 211 years." "Oh good, you can speak here." "Of course I can speak; I''m only sentient goop." Looking at the person standing next to me in the void and also watching the timer tick down. Before realizing I was quite in the presence of another, and as to how I was in their presence or they were in mine, he smacked me into a perpetual front-flip using the back of my head. "YOU... You... You imbecile! Tying the system to your mind has a massive toll on the individual!" Glaring at my now uncontrollably forward-rotating self as I flail about being unable to stabilize myself. He? She? They reply to my instability by unnaturally pulling me closer and positioning me just out of reach of both them and the timer. "What was that for?" I ask, perplexed as to why nothing hurts after being hit with the equivalent of a small arm''s detonation in the form of a hand on the back of my skull. "Also, why are you so strong!?" "It was for being an idiot in a new world, that''s what!" She yelled in a whisper. Both loud and quiet at the same time. "You can''t just go doing weird things to your soul in a world of unfamiliar power and forces and just expect to come out unscathed." He spoke in a more relaxed but stern voice, bordering the edge of both masculine and feminine. This is confusing indeed. Still slightly stunned and a little discombobulated, I say, "Couldn''t you''ve been a little lighter with the hitting at least? I got tossed into the situation with zero context anyway!" "No. I won''t be hitting you any lighter, and I hope the next time we meet I won''t need to restrain myself with the hitting nearly as much. For that matter, I hope I don''t need to hit you at all or ever again." As much as I felt this was quite reasonable, I was still unknowing as to why they were even here other than to reprimand my apparently very poor decision. "Is there at least a benefit to this supposedly obvious risk that I just so happened to partake in the penalty for executing?" Probing for information from whoever this presence was was my new approach to the situation. "Well, yes, actually, there is a massive benefit to what you did. It also wasn''t obvious, but I''m quite sure you know just as well as I know you know that there were very clear consequences to your actions, and you''d still be sitting here watching a timer tick down in the region of a couple centuries if not for my stepping in to assist your foolish error." Huffing in disappointment, she continued, "I listened in on your thoughts to learn what your process was after this mistake. My largest disappointment was that your first form of action was giving up on your new found position, and I''m undoubtedly quite sure it''d have taken you a year or more to learn you can speed up the countdown by just thinking about it going faster." This revelation I was given piqued my interest, focusing on the time now in the few hour range. My first few tries ended in reluctant disbelief as nothing changed. He took note of my souring face and slowed the timer down to its original speed, stating that his affect on the timer was interfering with my own and to try again. This time around, it leaped a few minutes ahead after a few seconds of thought. "Are you saying if I need to ever do this again I''ll be jumping forward a few minutes at a time? Sounds exhausting." "Yes, that is very true, but perhaps you underestimate the level of... er, difficulty... tying the system to your soul places on an individual. There are only 7 things with longer wait times. I won''t be helping you with those if it comes to it; your only warning, which would have come with a visit to one of dozens of altars, just so happens to be the only time I usually help anyone who breaks common sense." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. As if! Common sense, my ass. You try getting thrown into an unfamiliar world prior to having knowledge of and, for that matter, even the ability to even see and find out if you''d fair any better! Continuing in my angered internal ramblings, she just waited patiently until his piercing stare finally gouged a scoop of my attention back in their direction. "Are you going to stay angry or are you going to ask for a little more help?" I sigh in resignation and nod. I have no reason to remain tilted over things outside my control. "Sure, what else can you help me with?" "Anything." "Anything? Like anything at all?" "Yeah, whatever you want, need, desire, seek or choose. The only limiting factors being material possessions and the other already being the case for you. As in reincarnation." This was the last straw to push my understanding that I was indeed factually in another world completely separate from my past. This also begged the question of who I was speaking to. They never did answer my initial question as to what or who they were implied by asking how they were so strong. "Before we move onto the topic of what I need help with, could you answer my second question?" I thought if they were particularly omnipotent or of a higher power, perhaps they''d remember such a point in simple conversation. Maybe it''d have an opposite effect, such subjects being unimportant to the point they''d gloss over such a thing. "I will tell you who I am when you are about to return to the realm of the materialistic. In the meantime, I''ll keep speeding up the clock. You have until 60 seconds remain to speak your needs before I determine any further help outside of my range of strictly beginner assistance; further than that would require payment. Plus, from what I can tell, you are damn broke in the department of [Unknown Currency]." With the deadline set, I take to rambling the most important of my immediate needs off. I have no time to spare, as only about 3 hours are left, being reduced by about one 120th each passing update. No time to ask questions as to why I couldn''t comprehend this currency I have none of. Only necessities so I can live without further failure in my gift of a new life and exploration of a fresh world. The primary senses, asking for the ability to sense things I''m unfamiliar with. Vision, preferably better that most things I will be encountering. Far improved control of my new unfamiliar body. A general coverage of whatever I need to make it so what I''ve asked for doesn''t require too much focus; I want it all to be second-nature or close relative. And at last, language: the ability to speak and understand at least the most common of the world''s languages. "Alright, time is up. You have enough time for a couple more questions." "Is what I''ve asked for going to make my life too easy? I do want at least some challenge in my life; it''d get boring fast if I were, you know, overpowered." "No, there is a lot left for you to learn before you can even use some of what you have asked for. I think this is perhaps the most well-balanced out of all those I have granted capability-based wishes." "Then my last question will be: What is this place? Some kind of realm? Maybe insid-" "This is your mental space. The system being fused to your mind forced you out of your awake self-consciousness and into this place as a form of protection to your "self," while it fundamentally changes who you are as a being. Best to change those two while they are apart." These explanations I felt were somewhat lacking in detail, but I realized they were just saving me time to ask one real last question. "What am I?" "You are a formless multicellular organism you''d be most familiar with only in fiction from your previous reality, referred to as a slime. This can change if you like but personally, I''d suggest against undergoing any permanent mutations. After all, this form is the most adverse in its capabilities and flexible in the realm of this worlds powers." After all has been said and done, I glance over to the timer counting down in the tenths of seconds instead of full seconds now. Gesturing to it, she releases his affect on my mental realm and walks over to a doorway I never perceived until this moment. "Well, I think I am done here. Visit the church if you would like to inform myself or any of my colleagues of anything. Not that we can''t already tell everything that is already going on anyway. I am very strong due to my position. Oh, and next time just randomly assign me a gender; we can only take the form of whatever we are perceived as. Lastly, as for who I am?" now stepping through the doorway into a pure white space in contrast to my mental void and looking over their shoulder, "I am the 4th Sentre, Manager of Time." And the door slams shut.
2 Seconds Remaining...
Update Complete Version 4.22.1111
Silly version number... | Name: N/A | | Title: Sentre Acquaintance (C) | | Time: 08:11, Predicted 16 Minutes Have Passed | | Location: Subterranean, Benchak Amrill Mine Entrance | | Status: Stable, Low Control Confinement, Mild Mass Separation | Chapter 3: Perspective I was left alone for only a few lingering seconds before my vision slowly faded in and the darkness of my mentality fell to the background. Greeted not by the mana light revealing my surroundings but by the dim glow shining in from a passage on the far side of a wide cave, I peered around another unfamiliar environment. My bucket had been placed off to the side, and the familiar wooden platform rested a inch below the floor''s surface, taking up the space of a rather large square hole. The elevator''s significant coil of rope took up the majority of the room''s back region, and then some as a cylindrical imprint had been dug out of the ceiling to make room for its might. The floor had been carved and dug up, replaced with dried mud bricks for a mostly flat surface. The carts with smallish wheels on the opposing wall suggest the reason why. One full of debris and another full of a white powdery rock that gave off the faintest of a glow. Sitting at a desk behind a privacy divider in the corner with a candle for light was a clearly female powerhouse of a woman. She was writing with calloused hands on what I assume to be a form of paper. My point of view was too low to the ground to make out things flush with the desk''s surface. As much as I would like to just sit comfortably in my bucket, wasting the day away, I lack the patience to just sit around waiting to be acknowledged. Considering that I''d been told it would take close to that of a quarter day to reach the surface, we''d either just arrived or I had been in a slumber, and it had been some amount of time later I found myself awoke. ''Hello again...'' I reached out, seeking the attention of the intimidating lady. A rock sitting on the corner of her desk, glowing slightly red upon my inquiry. Quickly she stood, glancing around for what caused the reaction. Resting her eyes on me, she relaxed a little. "You''ve awoken once again! Its been a couple of days! I thought I''d lost you or something!" She exclaimed excitedly, showing a softer side of herself. Her reaction quickly darkened, though she seemingly realized something. "Right, you don''t understand what I''m saying..." Walking over to a smaller cart with a familiar short tower sitting on its lower shelf. I jiggled in protest, not yet able to convey my denial of misunderstanding clearly yet. This more abrupt sloshing was a little stronger than anticipated and tipped my bucket over, and surprisingly I didn''t slosh out. I had tensed from the sudden 90-degree reorientation, and this had made me more akin to that of cold molasses than grade A syrup. She gasped, abruptly jogging over expecting there to be spilled me to clean up, and quickly re-orientated the bucket to an upright position. The look on her face when I was in my entirety still in the bucket as she had looked around trying to spot my spilled self. "You stayed in the bucket!" she cheered, excited like a young girl. Truly a sight to behold. I didn''t really know how to take her odd personality and range of maturity. One moment she looked like a battle-hardened warrior just retired and working in a mine to make good use of her strength, and another she was a soft angel floating in the wind comparable to a butterfly. As much floating as a probably 200-plus-pound hulk of muscle could float. Now curious, she flipped the bucket over, and now, intentionally, instead of out of surprise, I tensed once more. Staying in near-perfect shape, pushing myself against the walls of the bucket to use the mechanic of suction to keep myself in place. My ability to manipulate my gel was now close to flawless; I felt as though I could reform my appearance to be any shape I desired so long as I had clear enough of a mental image to replicate.
Yet another advantage to being non-human, I was learning, was my mental fog, as what I had assumed to be normal being a human was in fact far less clear than the state I was in now. My mental space was so much clearer and capable of holding much more complex ideas in my head. So I did just that. Upon my final recent orientation change, I started to grow a tree from my surface¡ªleafless at that because that was still too detailed¡ªand got to about the size of a miniaturized small bush 3 inches tall before I reached my limit. This perturbed the girl, who was originally holding a bucket of slime and now was holding a bucket of slime with a few-inch slime twig bush growing out of textured slime ground in a very normal bucket. "Is that a plant?" is all she managed before noticing the now very bright red glow from the rock earlier. Hurriedly setting me down and rushing out the entrance. I figured since the rock had reacted to my mental probing earlier I had subconsciously used some form of energy. Be it some kind of telepathic or magic power¡ªI didn''t yet know. Also, judging its intensity, it was picking up on something other than me. Based off the information I''ve gathered about the odd rock, I can only assume a trespasser, someone using magic where their not supposed to, or maybe a third party listening/looking in on this presumably private and secure area caused the glow. But what do I know, I''m a slime and I have a more functional body, which I can use for locomotion now! Crawling out of the bucket and keeping myself somewhat in the shape of a very plump pancake, I pull myself together a little more and start to roll about purely under the influence of gravity. A more uniform blob''s moving about is not effortless, to say the least, as maintaining a near-sphere did take some effort. As for some actual directed movement, the best way to describe it is like having an arm without joints turn in the opposite direction of whichever direction you want to move. I have to push my main body around with my tail-like tentacle pressing down and letting some of my mass slump forward and slip under myself to remove friction. And keeping my vision upright is also challenging. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Eventually I decide that I''m doing it wrong and start rolling around in 2 layers. Like a hamster ball. I have full control over my body so just moving a sphere around my main mass works really well on this flat surface. This troubleshooting session leads me to how I''d move if on uneven terrain, and I decide that something akin to that of a tank track would work better. I hold most of my body in a semi-stable, cuboid prism and move a strip of myself like a track around it. This worked wonders until I ran into trouble turning. It was either 2 separate tracks¡ªtoo hard to hold focus on¡ªor another solution. Several ideas and failed attempts later settling on a kind of caterpillar or wormlike movement was best until I could either take a more humanoid shape and just walk or become capable of any of the ideas too complex to hold myself in the shape of. Most likely the prior. I had been too deep in thought and sprung up to the ceiling in surprise when the only face I knew appeared right in front of me. "Learning to get around, I see." She said coolly, staring up at my ceiling-suctioning self. "I don''t imagine you''d want to stay up there, would ya?" ''No, I''d rather just morph into a humanoid shape and converse with ease if it were an option,'' I proactively thought while dropping down to the floor again, snagging the bucket and getting relaxed again. She again stared with mouth agape. I''d done something unusual hadn''t I... "You can comprehend me? Wait, before that, you can hear me for the matter?" ''Uh yeah, I guess I can... Is it that odd?'' I noticed the pedestal had been set up again while I was busy thinking. "It''s a little more than odd! I didn''t believe the bastard when he''d said you had spoken to him in his mind!" ''I''m speaking to you in your mind? Like all my thoughts or just when I try to?'' I do like my privacy... "Only when you wish to convey something can I hear your intent. Its like another voice in my head that isn''t my internal dialogue! So cool!"
Speech LVL: 1 ¡ú 2
Telekinesis LVL: 23 ¡ú 24
Oh neat... I''ll have to look into these levels and whatnot later. One seemed a little high. Dismissing the window, ''What''s the pedestal thing for then?'' "Well, under normal circumstances, it''d be for people to talk back to you, but you understand me!" She said as she went over to start disassembling the contraption. "Not to mention your voice sounds very smooth... its hard to describe when only the meaning of the words you say are accommodatingly conveyed. It still sounds like its in a foreign tongue. I didn''t know that slime would have a tongue, though. Pun intended." So it turns out I''m straight up shoving my words into people''s minds when I converse with them. I get the feeling that if I wanted to, I''d be able to shout into someone''s mind and make them pass out from sudden overstimulation or maybe just a little pain or discomfort. Something to test if I ever come into such an encounter where it''d be appropriate. I hope not, though. "As for everything else, its like a mumbling of random jumbled gargle with no conveyed meaning and its so quiet that If I hadn''t been intentionally listening to you think just now, I wouldn''t have even noticed." ''At least I have my mental privacy'' "Yes, I suppose that''s quite a desirable thing. You want me to turn on the mana light so you can see?" ''No thanks; I can see quite well, actually.'' It was true. My vision had been immaculate even in this low-light environment. Someone was worthy of many thanks in the future. For the last time that evening, she stared at me in disbelief. "I have someone I think I''d like you to meet. They know a whole lot more than I do about monsters and weird slime variants such as yourself." I recalled something about people wanting to kill reincarnates. Something I think I''d struggle to hide, at least from someone with a degree in the field of my body. This can''t possibly go well...
| Name: N/A | Title: Sentre Acuaintance | | Date & Time: Calendar Downloading | 17:44 | | Location: Subterranean, Benchak Amrill Mine Entrance | | Status: Stable, Low Control Confinement, Minimal Exhaustion, Regenerating | Chapter 4: Flight She had long gone home and left me to my devices. Apparently the light outside was the sun setting. I had awoken in the mid evening and would need to wait till the next day before I met her acquaintance. Since I had nothing better to do, I ended up worming around the available space all on my own, sure to not touch anything too precarious as to be knocked over. Lots of various tools, I assume, were for the maintenance of the elevator and its mechanics. The rope coil turned out to be even larger than I had initially surveyed. Larger as in, there was yet another 8-foot-wide spool above the one most visible, even further inside the cylindrical indention. A couple grooved rollers allow its rope to go around a bend in the rock seamlessly. The braking and locking mechanism was something I had only seen once in a museum for 1970''s technology. A large metal wheel and a crescent C brake with two ropes on either side that could be pulled to release and engage its pads to the wheels outer surface. The metal showed long-term wear and tear as the outside of the wheel was near flawless mirror. Or it would be if not for the wibbles and wobbles caused from the unevenness of the brake pad material. A inch-thick grey-black soot coating a tray below the brake wheel had revealed this world''s age of cleanliness. I was half certain if I had dropped a lit match right in the middle of the soot, it would explode in a beautiful display of tiny metal bits in every direction. Something akin to sodium metal powder poured into water. The glowing white rock in a cart I saw earlier had some writing on it different than the basic rock cart next to it. Interestingly, the text of the writing bloomed with the same glow as whatever the contents of the cart were. I couldn''t read it until a letter randomly swapped to something a lot more familiar. ''How odd''. Each character I could focus on turned into a letter I knew. Eventually the text wrote, Unrefined Raw Amerill. The other cart, when I read it, the letters actually shifted around and read Land Fill. It had dawned on me I was using some kind of ability here. I couldn''t read the foreign language so why were these things being translated right in front of me? Also, I had bound this system, or whatever the Sentre of Time had called it. They also had spoken and confirmed my inquiry to the benefit of my actions, so how do I benefit from this menu then? When I was a kid, I had read a couple of manga and found the style not my cup of tea, but I remember there being something like a keyword the protagonists always used to open up their menus or whatever.
I figured as long as I kept to the more obvious or maybe limited myself to what might be a basic observable fact, I wouldn''t expose myself as being from another world. And maybe, just maybe, when I am far more capable in the future, I will reveal my true self and discover the relation between monsters such as myself and other races in this world. The second familiar face I had come to know, or the first I had seen at all, came strolling in with their friend in tow. "He seems really smart, I tell you! Who knows how old they might be?" She said with no awareness of my wariness to revealing too much information. This cued me into why I might have been discovered; I might really have been highly valuable goop. Still, I countered my own argument by the fact I wasn''t collected in my entirety. Either that or the portion collected mattered much less so long as my consciousness was intact. If my being alone is what is valuable, maybe the bare minimum is ideal from an effort standpoint. And lastly, I could be overthinking this heavily; perhaps I hold no value other than being research material, and my life is but a side product. An anomaly to a piece of research, unimportant in the face of being a basic ingredient for some alchemist''s potion. Either way, all were seated, and I was being stared holes into. ''Did I miss something?'' "Yes, you did. I was talking about how you spoke, and Minister Pillum here had heard your half of our earlier conversation." She said with some indignation she hadn''t revealed prior. Minister Pillum was a dapper gentleman on the slightly larger side, with quite the resemblance to a human from the old ages on earth. His cuffs were folded inward neatly and had a monocle that rested firmly next to his, for a lack of better words, plump nose. Minister Pillum nodded in agreement. "Your voice was and is abnormal; it sounds like a fully fledged and developed language instead of something more typical amongst monsters. This leads me to believe you either were enlightened, have lived far longer than any monster I have come to know and have lived among a civilized monster society somewhere deep in the mountains of Catalle, or lastly, are a reincarnation." His face stiffened with that last possibility. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Well, hiding much from this man was going to be a tough endeavor. His provided possibilities were, from what I could tell, hard to believe, unlikely, and spot on the money. How was I going to get out of this alive? I don''t have any good cover story or any experience lying my way out of such scenarios. So I did what any overthinker would. I started peering at escape routes and fighting possibilities. Much more the prior. I didn''t see many options in the department of fighting. I didn''t have viable methods of fighting yet; no clue to my capabilities. Even less so, confidence in my ability to manipulate my body in a manner effective in combat. So running it was if things took a turn for the worse. I could always try and escape out the entrance of the cave, but this left a lot of potential possibilities that could very well be worse than being alone here with these two. What was outside this cave? Was it in the middle of a city? the middle of nowhere? A cliff with a 2000-foot drop? Well, that last possibility was essentially the same as my only other option. Back into the ravine. ''I would rather not indulge in the topic of my speech. Rather, I''d like to know how to keep my voice in the minds of those I desire alone instead of broadcast for any and all to hear.'' This took him aback. He looked like I had given him an answer he fully expected and surprised him at the same time. "Well, I wouldn''t know how you ''broadcast'' your thoughts into others minds in the first place. Afraid I couldn''t help you there. However, your intellectual capacity is wider than I initially thought. Most intelligence in monsters is rather limited and reduced to flimsy notions of ideas and concepts relayed through the pedestals, of which I was informed you were quite capable of communication without. And lastly." His face steeled into a greedy grin. "You sound firmly over the age an elder slime would die." This was my cue, along with the sudden movement in an attempt to grab my bucket-contained self, to get the hell out of here. I shot up to the ceiling and bounced back in the direction of the inset elevator. Rushed heavy footsteps, and a gasp from the more friendly face in the room came from the back of my vision. With the bucket kicked to the side, he was hot on my gel. I elongated and slapped down on the mud brick floor, losing bits of myself in the grooves. There is no time to pick myself out of those cracks; just run. I fell down this hellishly deep pit once; I can do it again. And hopefully being conscious will let me stabilize my fall instead of splattering everywhere as I had when barely awake. Their face had gone entirely pink in the face of failing to capture me easily. A rage I had only seen once back on earth from a very drunk man outside the last remaining and most successful casino of them all. He was a little more than half way to me when I started slipping through the gap next to the elevator. I went through rather quickly as soon as I had the notion to become more fluid to speed things up. My lacking forward thinking had allowed him to close the distance almost entirely, but I was long gone before he even had the chance of successfully capturing me. Or at least I thought so. I was in a world where I had no clue to the capabilities of such an individual. Magic? A slime-petrifying device meant precisely for such a goal? I left that thought to brew in the background; I was falling again and knew it this time. I had a notion of gravity now, clearly an improvement to my senses, and was approaching what felt like the peak of the balance between acceleration and resistance. I knew two things. One, I was roughly moving at terminal velocity, and two, I had no idea how far 1200 strides was. Neither of which looked like a happy ending. Time to brainstorm and fast.
| Name: Pillum Val Coust | | Title (44): Discoverer of _____ | | Date & Time: Unspecified | | Location: Subterranean, Benchak Amrill Mine Entrance | | Status: Enraged, Physical Exhaustion | The damn thing had gotten away! What a foolish mistake to have not brought it to a more confined space before trying to spell out its demise. An opportunity rare, coming only once every several decades, had just squished through a 1-inch gap beside the elevator to one of the deepest and most treacherous cracks on this damn continent. What a bloody foolish mistake. He slammed his fist down on the elevator platform, splintering a board in its place. His brow wrinkled. Standing up, he reached into his waist pouch and snatched a gold coin out to pay for the damages. The mana he had poured into his legs in an attempt to catch the creature had left cracks in the brickwork on the floor. The spell in his hand meant to solidify the slime; he smirked instead engraving it on the coin he was handing to the unsuspecting lady manning this mine. He knew something of it''s level would do no more than make her arm go limp for a few minutes. He flicked the coin in her direction and headed out the pathway to the main mine building. "What a foolish mistake." He mumbled under his breath, shaking his head. "Should have joined my brother in training all those years ago."
| Name: Ms. Misha | | No Title | | Date & Time: Unspecified | | Location: Subterranean, Benchak Amrill Mine Entrance | | Status: Saddened, Surprised, Disappointed | Her eagerness and hard work had been in vain. Someone with no hate in their voice, she had worked to collect and gather them back into one piece. They had conversed with no formality or status and interacted without restraint. But in the end, greed and corruption, something all those in power gave control to, left her with waste. The coin numbing her hands. Was that all she deserved? Chapter 5: Two Histories
Pulmonia Residential District N-22 Last Super-City on Earth
4 Days Later
Cathorine sat with her head on her knee, contemplating the past few days. Stress, Shock, Disbelief. Much was going through her head. Was he really gone? Even though technology had surpassed the threshold to bring a non-insignificant percentage back to the realm of the living, he hadn''t woken up. They had tried everything after his heart stopped beating to when his blood didn''t have any oxygen left in it. They could get his heart to beat on its own for a while, and it would just fade back into disfunction hours later. And discovering that his brain had completely and in its entirety stopped its function, they finally decided that he had in fact passed on. The reason for death had a circle filled in for the first time in a century. The V-V blabbing on in the background snapped her back to the present. V-V Host: We''ve gotten news that, as of 4 days ago, the owner and primary scientist at Wraint Institution of Technology and Locomotion, Jackson Liethre, has passed. The reason for his passing is undisclosed at this time. 44 days too early, it seems, as they planned to reveal their latest project later this summer and had reserved a spot in the largest tech show for him to announce it himself. Tomorrow his ceremony will be held at the Grand Juctoos Coliseum at 3 PM. May he rest in peace. It was finally revealed to the world that one of the most influential world figures was no more. Social media exploded in outrage and people took to the streets in protest of the medical system not saving him. The calm and collected amongst those who stayed at home felt rage they could do nothing but contain. The emotional cried, and the introverted intellectuals sat in silence. Quiet places grew restless and loud places grew quiet. Talkative people listened and shy people spoke. Ultimately, the solar system was a different place without him. He had effects on every humanity-established planet in the system; every essential providing service was changed from his insight. He took hard work from other scientists and applied it to subjects completely unrelated, and it worked flawlessly as though the research being done prior was applicable in every way, shape, function and form. But Jackson Liethre was dead. Is dead. V-V Host: In other news, the start of demolitions to upgrade Pulmonia to the standard of the rest of the world''s M.E.G.A.-type cities will start in 21 days. Housing transitioning will begin 4 days pri- *click* The only reason Pulmonia was even still a super city instead of the larger, more efficient M.E.G.A. was a result of him. For some executive to make the decision to change it so soon after the news of Jackson''s demise put a knot in her throat. Something about reminding him of his earliest accomplishments she recalled him saying. He redesigned the structure of the new standard too but it had been a lesser accomplishment. He said something to her about it being incomplete, but the people he spoke to took his idea as if he were perfect. Later the same day, he also drew up a diagram showing the exact flaw. The only evidence of this issue was a photo she snapped in secret in a brief moment he was absent from his room. He knew she took the photo. She knew he knew. He said nothing.
Well, better think fast. I recon I have less than a minute before I hit something. A common strong shape is all I can manage before I start smashing into a domino-ing ping-pong of my body off the walls.
47 Impact Damage Taken! 960 Impact Damage Taken! Temporary Health Exhausted! Reconstruct? Y/N Remaining Health: 3/10! Rest Immediately!
''No, don''t reform.''
Body Formation Broken, Returning to Freeform!
My equilateral triangular shape had smashed into the wall again, and then the jagged, sharp boulders resting at the bottom of the crevice. I had hardened myself into the consistency of hard rubber but lacked the molecular chains that would ordinarily hold such materials together. I already lost a good half of myself falling and impacting several walls earlier, no thanks to the winding and regularly shifting walls of what felt like a never-ending, underground canyon¡ªas I was now convinced it was¡ªand its strangely linear width. But to say I had gotten lucky was a very heavy understatement. With each impact, some mental fog came back, and every reformation of my shape to maintain this [Temporary Health] bonus became harder and harder to accomplish. Feeling sluggish, I gathered the grouping of my largest pieces and liquified, returning to a singular mass. Bits of my no longer controlled body lost minutes ago trickled down piece by piece, further broken and shattering like glass on impact. Temporarily frozen from the cooling of a freezing region above. I had avoided overcooling by churning and cycling my mass, ricocheting extra hard only once when I did lose a facet to the cold. Still, even despite the notion of potential death and fear of falling that grew as time had grown deep, I had taken in some of my surroundings. The mined regions stopped long before I had reached the first of a good few biomes above. Only one place was familiar, a very damp, hardly bioluminescent moss-covered region that lasted all of 3 seconds of my decent. It seemed too small. The bioluminescence had been weak, but I clearly recalled not seeing a thing during my first bouts of consciousness. Nonetheless, surely a subject of study for another time. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Things were not all fine and dandy, as caterpillaring around was actually highly difficult on a pile of sharp, oversized rocks. I slumped into my most relaxed plastic form. Neither free-flowing nor rigid, similar to a recently massaged muscle. In this state, my mind calmed and entered a state of rest. It didn''t feel like I knew I was now resting; more, I felt a solid warmth flow throughout my body. Warm but with no actual warmth. I read in a book that people felt this way when they were freezing to death¡ªa sense not attached to reality as they lost themselves to permafrost¡ªin whatever situation they came to be in. This was in fact rather different, though; I was quite aware and still feeling in a rational sense. After some time, a tingling sensation started to occur at the tips and edges. I paid it little mind until I realized that I was actually moving around without my own intent. Little tendrils of my being plucking about and sucking on random surfaces around me. With my continued idling, I started moving about, a passenger in my own sludge. This movement seemed so natural, consistent, and freedom-inducing that I cared not to stop my active inaction. With further inspection of my primordial instinct to cycle my mass through myself to arrive at a new non-descript destination, I drew a line back to the microcosmos. I was far more familiar with looking through a microscope to see multitudes of tiny lifeforms living amongst us in and on everything. But what dawned on me was that one of them was similar, both in shape and manner of movement to how I was relocating myself right now. Just like a protist cell amoeba. I figured with such a logical and simple method of transport being possible with basic chemical reactions and a creature with no brain, as a creature with a metaphorical brain, could do this without issue. I would just need to think about what I was doing from a very different angle. Forget appendages! That was a time of the past! I am in the here and now! Why care about something I can''t accomplish yet? I need to follow what is natural until I learn more about myself. Forcing my amorphous being into a morphous state without any foundation was a very silly and narrowminded approach to coming to a new world. This would apply to becoming anything but a human for me. Duh! Really, even with what felt like an overall improvement to my mental plasticity, the more mass I lost, the less I felt like I was really here. As a response to this notion, I immediately nudged my auto-moving body to go in the direction of the remaining slime chunks and pieces to see if they were recyclable. It acting like a creature all on its own followed the instruction but also conveyed a mental twinge of never having followed an order in the past. Maybe I was now a being with a creature for a body instead of owning my own body. Something to investigate further at another time too. Unsurprisingly, upon contact, the shards joined the primary mass'' viscosity with no issue. Allowing me further room for comfort in my own mind.
Nature Discovered! Reaccumulation: Regroup any lost and undamaged mass for lossless recovery. Recover damaged mass for regeneration at a discount.
Skill Acquired! Regeneration: LVL 0
Skill Acquired! Slime Generation: LVL 0
Three loud dings rebounding around in my head later, I was starting to see the real benefit to attaching this system to my mind. Permanently learning skills just by applying basic concepts to my situation was my reward, huh? To just convert my nature as a simple being into active and developable skills. I was quite happy, though I had never been much for showing my emotion back on earth. So I simply trudged on with a more optimistic view of my future. A quiet kid if you would.
Skill Leveled! Basic Movement: LVL 2
Many years prior to learning chemical engineering or getting my bachelor''s in electrical and electronics, amongst other varying subjects in my field, I had been something of a gamer. Few responsibilities and too much time on my hands that I didn''t have any desire to direct towards more productive goals in life. But there was always a category of games I never indulged in. Something about it just irked me in an unnerving way. This category was the run-of-the-mill RPG. What didn''t happen was me not learning everything about them anyway because, of course, all my friends played them to the ends of the earth. As much as I could call those no-life''s friends. Even less responsibility in their hands as the world had recently become fairly autonomous. I didn''t see a desirable future in just sitting around playing games for the next 90 years as I could be sure they were going to do, so I sat and learned all sorts of things instead. That''s besides the point though. RPG''s. The most popular of the popular, role-playing games had been firmly set into humanity decades ago. Aside from knowing every notable basic concept about them, it just had no relevance in my mind. As such, I moved on. Then, I started seeing the appeal. A world where every bit of information was accessible at the push of a button. Your wellbeing, status, capability, and standing, just to name a handful. Or flawless appraisal of an object, a distance, a person, a reality... Virtual reality was paramount to that last one. Ranging from headsets to implants and dream chambers. And now... now I have no clue what to do with myself... other than make anything and everything in a reality hardly touched. A first player to log on. A first human in a slime body. And a world with two centuries of technological advancement to catch up on. Chapter 6: Baby Steps Dashboard... Menu... I continued riddling out all the imaginable words to open my system I could think of. Profile... Character... Identity... Tag... This grew boring quick. Not even the most notorious game of all time had the same menu opening command as this alternate world counterpart. Let''s not forget the outrage I''d have towards the developer of this system if I had to actually speak to open the menu... If I have to embarrass myself to no end just to see pertinent information, I will be the one doing the hitting in someone''s mental space next! ''Ugh...'' System... Status...
System Status:
Load: 4% ||||
No recorded downtime in the last ERROR years.
Well, hey, I got something... Not pertinent to what I wanted, but something nonetheless. Since one word wasn''t enough to open a desirable window, I will need to go back over the list of command words I''ve already used to attempt at getting to what I need. Very similar to how a heads-up display would function in a first-person game. Bound by the edges of a screen. I thought I would need to say something. The little spec of system that stuck around whenever no windows were open was anchored to a particular section of my vision. If I looked 90 degrees left, it would move accordingly, 90 degrees pivoting from my center of perception. Of course, if a screen were to accurately represent my field of view now, it would either be near impossible to discern detail or would have no edges, and every direction a normal eye might perceive would then provide accurate data. I probed the spec of light with my mind''s finger, and it reacted rapidly, snapping to my center of vision and popping open to a simple listing of options. The most attention-grabbing part of the menu was a separation of my body''s status and my mind''s. I selected both at the same time, and the menu options merged and expanded to display my overall state. My thought''s pivoted on this system being as intuitive as it is now as it will be in the future.
User Status: Overall
Body Health: 7/10 Mental Strain: 1% Mana: Not Yet Measured Nearest Pedestal: 19176 U | Arrive in 61 Days
Level 2 Level Progress: 72/120 Challenge Progress: 1/4 | Next Title: In 6 Accomplishments
My satisfaction with finally getting some desirable data of my own will instead of being situationally provided with prevalent information was a small relief to my overthinking mind. Recovering from the latent shock of being thrown into a hostile world where not 1 day after being left to my own devices, I had my life threatened, nearly got caught escaping, and narrowly avoiding death from gravitational tendencies. Recovery was certainly taking its time. I was relaxing as I just let my counterpart move along the base of the ravine. It wasn''t like I had a destination in mind yet, plus a slime''s nature was to roam about and just wipe things clean like a squeegee on window glass. Just there were no flat surfaces here, and it was more effective. Perhaps if a slime were left unsupervised or without instinct to stop it''s eating endeavors, it might just consume to the ends of the... Earth? I may as well call this new place Earth. I wasn''t the most creative in the department of world naming when we did start expanding planetarily. So till someone says this is "Planet Name, not Earth," I''ll just call it so. If the concept of a planet is even known. I''m still clueless to the actual level of scientific development here. My slime''s color has gradually darkened as I have consumed bits of sand, lithophytes, and other various substances growing or decaying off the surfaces down here. I''ve spotted unidentified minerals and tried to pull a protruding crystal from a rock, failing from a lack of leverage and probably other crystal-attached protrusions branching off the main cluster within the rock and out of my sight. It now rests in a region of high mass to be disassembled of its valued part when I am more capable. Regularly, a small stone¡ªor what remains of one less structurally sound¡ªcomes crashing down, creating signature snaps of rock rapidly separating or crumbling sounds rebounding a dozen times before reaching my senses. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The rocks recently fallen are easily identifiable, lying between and separate from the much larger segmented and broken boulders that take up the area. This only strikes me as odd because if rocks regularly fall in this region, then it should serve to make sense the base would be much more flat and rocks of all varying sizes should take up the floor. And yet contrary to my reason, only very large, almost sharpened boulders set not in a pattern but surely intentionally creating a field of certain death for any uncontrolled descendants to these depths is what lies around me. I reason that perhaps the only lack of order to their arrangement may be just to the sheer number and irregular shape. Still, there is no doubt in my mind that someone or something is placing these here with goals of gain in mind. What this trap-setting party is gaining precisely is yet to be explicitly depicted. It could be as simple as a source of food and defense to an evolution''s preferred hunting terrain. Any case, I''d much prefer not to be discerned as prey, intruder, or material deemed fallen and available for the taking. One individual has already shown they are non-interactable without an appropriate disguise or capacity for self-defense. I can stand to hope this isn''t the case for others, be they human, human-like, or something completely different. We traveled for about half an hour before the slime retracted all tendrils and promptly glopped into a semi bowl-shaped divot. Now quite dark colored and¡ªI assume¡ªprocessing material for energy. My body was, as I now comprehended it, entirely me, but at the same time also its own entity. Since I felt attached¡ªnaturally¡ªI was going to start treating it as its own person, listening to its desires and needs just as much as I would be using it as a vessel for my own endeavors. I asked it, ''Are you full?''. Quickly the response came, confusion and ''full?''. I elaborated with a feeling of satiation. ''Full!'' It beamed back. Sending a little emotion of glee, I was enjoying having a partner to keep company. A little thought went into the social needs of a normal human that would demand he either go insane or the mind would hallucinate interaction in an unhealthy stead. Could Jackson be bound to human nature, or was his soul free of chemical needs and dopamine desires present in humanity? He would find out if there were to be no other conversation-capable beings this deep. Unsurprising if that were the case. I fleshed out my nonphysical body and took a short stroll around the area ahead. I learned that walking was quite optional, seeing as I didn''t actually have inertia to gain or lose. Walking made it easier to direct motion though, so I stuck with it. A moment later I spotted movement back the way we had come and zipped over to an odd blur in otherwise normal air, slowly moving towards my physical body. Peering into the anomaly, I was met with a dark figure whose resemblance was obfuscated from my phantasmal observation. Just as soon though, did they reveal themselves. "Hello little one." A gravely male voice cut through the ambient cave white noise. Shirtless, with red skin standing still several paces away, was a humanoid with a pale horn positioned above his right eye stretching several inches into the dehumidified air. His eyes glowed a slight golden in a manner barely familiar, like the Amerill in the cart and the moss I had passed briefly. He was muscular but skinny, resembling a pure build of power with no extra weight or waste. He looked at the slime instead of Jackson''s point of view, which now comfortably sat at his metaphorical eye level, currently peeled away from the slime''s center. After a moment, I snapped back and warbled the slime a little to acknowledge I was listening. "You surprise me with your lack of a reaction. For all other creatures who reside here, flee at the soonest clue to my presence. I will make things simple for you, though." My phantom-like self nods away as if I could be seen, "If I can be understood, I will not end your life as I would basic prey. Signify you can understand in any way, and I will take you to my residence as anything better than an enemy." I quickly kneel down and rejoin my body and move slowly in their direction. After several seconds, I am about 10 feet away and wiggle my little head-like tendril back and forth, hoping to convey meaning without speaking. Perhaps just a wiggle will work in my favor, as making a hand sign is a dead giveaway, and I have trouble imagining how else a slime communicates non-verbally. The last thing I want to do is jump into a hole trying to escape someone trying to kill me only to be met with someone else trying to kill me. Not an ideal outcome for risking my life and losing both possible escape routes. It''s hard to remain calm when so many unknowns are present and one actively starts walking towards you. The pale-horned man was indeed approaching, and I was starting to have doubts about doing anything other than the safest way possible. Of course, when given my options, I was either "anything better than an enemy" or whatever dead slime might be used for. "An ideal situation for both of us, I hope." His tone was calm and relaxed. A stark contrast to the rough and almost exaggeratedly grumpy look on his face. He kneeled down and started to pick me up. A small amount of surprise escaped the edge of his lips, probably due to me stiffening to be picked up stuffed plushie style. Very droopy stuffed plushie style... Either way, I did maintain a level of rigidity enough to be carried as we went on our way. Where our way was leading was not yet explained, and I still felt uncomfortable trying to find out with all that would be implied by any attempt to learn so. The journey was casual and time was quick, as before I even noticed, I was being settled down into a shallow, wide, unnaturally smooth concave indenture into the solid rock floor. We had arrived at a cubiform section of stone. I was in the front left corner on the floor of this humble abode that looked like it was a little elevated from the floor of the crevice. A makeshift kitchen with a small pan, containment for a fire, waste bin, and utensils all neatly hung or rested about the right wall, a demon man-shaped indenture into a stone platform on the opposite. The back of the 6-foot-wide room leads onwards, obstructed by a leather-like curtain separating the living quarters from a darker space with what appeared to be assorted tools piled upon a workbench. Water dribbled from a crack next to the kitchen into a similar bowl shape I was in on the floor opposite my corner. Chapter 7: What Slimes Do As soon as water was an option, my slimey half lunged in its direction, craving the hydration I wasn''t aware it lacked. I reeled the control back some and elongated to reach the other corner. Suctioned onto the floor, I pulled the main mass of the body along and then further pushed my bulk ahead into the other bowl. As it turned out, slime and water act the same when in direct contact; a thin gelatin membrane-like film overtook the water, spreading through it at a rapid pace before shifting into more malleable slime. The new mixed with the old, and overall felt like it could be manipulated way easier. At the same time, it turns out the horned humanoid had been observing, watching the impulsive slime get reeled back by an abnormal mentality and, by a far more logical stance, operated and maneuvered the slime efficiently across the room. "I''ve never seen a normal slime so extremely dehydrated, calmly enter water." He slid the leather curtain aside and maneuvered to sit on his bed platform. "Let me just break the ice since I know how those heathens behave up top the mountain. And since you are a reincarnation, I assume there isn''t any reason you shouldn''t be afraid of everyone if all you''ve met are those from up above." Releaving himself of his cloke, he shifted over to the end of the platform, leaning back to rest his back on the wall with his knee up for his clasped hands to hang on. He continued, "My name is Tren; its pretty obvious you''re at least trying to hide your situation. The lawless people who work the mines would indeed be a good reason to hide, no doubt. Still, no one but me down here. I can''t think of anyone dumb enough to go down here other than me either. So just between you and me, want to have a talk? No one is allowed to hunt reincarnations anywhere else in the world." Well, great news for me. No need to remain in hiding until I was stronger than everyone else. How would that even happen? I doubt it even being a possibility since I now think of it. Other than genocidal behavior to power level myself into oblivion, and that likely wouldn''t come without it''s own repercussions. The whole world and all its nations, races, and creatures against a slime who just wants a little experience if the form of oblideration to any and all that got in it''s way? Sounds like a poor path to take, if I''ve ever thought one. ''I used to go by Jackson; my counterpart has yet to be named yet though. Giving it it''s own identity seems like the right thing to do to me.'' A tiny sliver of a smile appears at the edge of the man''s lips. "Can I ask why?" ''The world I''m from has lots of stories, more than you might imagine, and some stories have pieces of fiction where the main character holds too tightly onto their past and it holds them back. Other times it gives them the strength to push through and persevere. If I forget to include all and every part of this symbiotic relationship, I think it''ll eventually crumble. I''m holding onto my past for good reason. Throwing away my morals and knowledge just to take advantage of my beneficial situation to the detriment of my own body? Horrible thought.'' My slime body completed it''s remixing and started converging contaminants into a dark cell on one side of the mass. I moved up to "sit" next to my conversation partner. I watched as I assumed the man was pondering my words. His reply came shortly after my repositioning. "If you want to officialize a new name, you would need to visit a high pylon. That is quite the journey for someone so small, but at least you wouldn''t need to worry about getting slaughtered by travelers along your path. Couldn''t say the same 2 years ago though. During the war, there was no one to uphold the law, and you''d have been killed just so someone could have a meal." He shook his head. "Everyone stole food, money, heh, even people stealing people to work on one farm instead of another. Your reincarnation status would have just been a bonus." ''2 years ago? Is that recent for a war?'' "Yes, they happen every four to seven years. Every time a new king is placed upon a throne, all the neighboring countries send just a small attack force to harden their position or to make them crumble from the pressure. Getting attacked by 2 or 3 is fine, but some have to deal with upwards of 8. It all matters how big the country you are starting to rule over is. The exception this time, however, was the king attacked back, going against tradition of kings and proving themselves fierce in the face of battle." He shook his head. "The result placed themselves a head and shouder above the other crowned, took a rather large chunk out of one too, but I wish they wouldn''t send their men to die, only to establish or tear down one another as soon as the next heir happens to come into power. Head across the ocean to the southwest, however, and there exists another body of land where all have agreed to live in peace under one ruler." Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ''Sounds tough. Do the people not seek peacetimes? Is there not a continual loss of civility every time these wars happen?'' Nodding along with my notion, he said, "The kings some 200 years ago all came together and agreed not to unjustly harm the people who lived under their rule. The general consensus is to build people things separate from war things. Civilisation is often so far from the dedicated warzones that everyday life is rarely affected. Except for the fact that most of the workforce is absent, participating in the war for the kingdom that just so happens to be under attack." ''Well, I''m no history buff. I imagine half of what you''ve told me will come to be a surprise when the time rolls around again.'' I plopped back onto the floor and rolled over to be in front of the towering individual from 6 inches off the ground. ''Is there a fast or easy way out of these depths? Really, I''d like to be in a more slime-friendly environment, and judging from what you''ve said previously, this is about anything but an unhostile place.'' Tren leaned forward and placed his chin on his hand-capped knee. "If you want fast, I can get you out quick, but I''d need something in return. So far you''ve only taken a little water¡ªsomething relyably hard to find down here. Otherwise the safe route is straight that way." He pointed at the corner with the water flowing out of it, chuckling. "Not that I''d be able to accompany you or know where it leads." I sighed; everything he said seemed like a logical truth, but I picked out the half lie in his words. ''Sounds like there is only one option, because if any logical sense is to be used, an unknown end of a path sure doesn''t sound like a validated safe one.'' He smiled at my response. "Very true, but I lied. On the other end of that tiny leak from a rather massive lake is a whole lotta hungry aquatic beast in wait of anything that moves. I''d have never actually let you take that path in good will, or let you go at all, for that matter. You can see yourself how slowly that water trickles in. I do need something in return for the water you''ve happened to be in desperate need of. But you say you don''t know what you can do for me, but there''s at least a few things you can do for me. I saw how well you cleaned those forsaken rocks out there¡ªrocks I''d have never thought cleanable, to be completely honest." Tren stood and walked back into the deeper room. "Here, just clean my tools and maybe give it a bit of organization, and I''ll help you out of here in no time." He had a bit of an evil grin on his face in that last sentence of his; however, I was more curious than concerned as he''d shown no real hostility and only transactional mutual gain. ''Want the floor clean too while I''m at it?'' Might as well be enthusiastic. Smiling once again, he said, "That''s the spirit, and that''d be great if you would be so kind." As I went to enter the room, he stepped over me and went to leave. "I''ll be back after a bit; I''ve got to get enough water for the both of us as that tiny drip isn''t going to sustain us both. You''ll need more after doing your cleaning, and it wasn''t enough when I was alone." Before I could reply, he was gone, vanishing from view, I assume like he did when observing me earlier. The floor obviously was going to come last; I need to get some things sorted in this demonic''s stone-encased workshop before any organisation or cleaning can be done. My slime''s mental poked my conscious in protest to my thoughts. It ushered in thoughts of cleaning and sorting at the same time, getting all the work done at once. I shook my pseudo-head in a mind-clearing manner and reassessed the situation from a slime''s point of view. There really was no reason to go about this human style, was there? I guess I should take my own advice in both ways. Throw out my old way of thinking and apply my knowledge to create the best of both worlds. The answer never was so black and white to begin with. So I began. The first tool of many scattered about on the floor was a simple pair of pliers, but it had some kind of twist to the tip, clearly a tool meant for a more specific job. The slime groped at it for a bit before getting under it and trying to lift. Before the tool got off the ground, I ended up engulfing the well-shaped metal and moving it nowhere. I was surprisingly weak for what I thought would be a menial task of lifting to clean. So instead I ended up sliding it across the ground towards the bench as the tool became shiny once again. A small amount of rust, grease, and other dust buildup pealed away as I moved forward. Now near the bench and the only shiny thing in the room, I had cleaned the floor along my path and placed it down on the dull, freshly scrubbed stone floor, and proceeded to the next oddly shapped tinkerer''s armament. The repetetive and continual work was only interupted by the sounds of snoring coming from the other room. I guessed my new aquantance had come back and I was too engrossed in my enlisted service to pry my attention back to my surroundings. There lay about 50 tools gleaming in the darkness, mostly repositioned to be nearby the workbench and the floor was now spotless of its mud splotches, what i assumed was sawdust, half eaten baked good that was moldy half over, and rare oil spills. Interestingly the slime didn''t disolve the mold like the rest of the materials. I hadn''t grown tired and the slugishness that the slime had shown disappeared with its questionable under-the-workbench delicacy. I guess cleaning is just something slimes do and now it was time to set my sights on what lay above my 6 inch height. Chapter 8: I Eat Stuff A simple venture up one of the workbench''s legs brought me to a whole new mess. Varying clamps and other tools were set aside for a project that was clearly far from its inevitable completion, and some were even left spilling out of the semi-mechanical machine that was centered in the workspace. Another similar-looking machine had it''s back panel taken off and sat cattycorner to the pile of tools laid about for use. As I moved around their large rectangular frames, I saw the front of the machines were facing towards the back wall and had numerous knobs and switches with many symbolic settings. Nothing was particularly familiar about the machines until I saw what was undeniably a power button, a symbol synonimous with initial function, and all just sitting there like it came from a steampunk convention through a portal and plopped itself right down here in another world. After glancing at the recognisable circle with a small dash through it''s top for an uncomfortable amount of time, I figured I''d just leave the questions for later and continue my productive roll until all was sparkles and sunshine. However sparkly and sunny it could get in the depths of the earth anyway. Pretty sparkly, actually, if some thought was put into it. I pushed the distractions out of my mind and went about cleaning the metal tools as they lay. A common practice I had used a number of times before after meeting several masters of their craft and quickly learning that tools not where they were left were ''lost'' to an artisans eyes, and ''lost'' is nonconducive to a proficient or efficient work environment. People in their industry of choice loved when they could find what they were looking for because they always knew where they left their tools. A master of avionics had only once requested I completely put away every single one of his tools. The only reason was he was heading out on a trip to assist in the repair of the largest turbine engine known to man, providing the functional power for the largest spacecraft ever created and the only Gladiator Class Space Exploration Vehicle. G.C.SEV as all the nerds would chant in unison. It was their creation after all. My mind wandered as I navigated my back and forth path across the working surface. Its heavily cracked wood boards heighten the difficulty to clean consistently, and I gradually cleaned less and less from between the boards and just focused on what was ideal for a space that would become dirtied again soon enough. I came across a 4-piece flathead screwdriver set hanging off one side, the tips showing no wear in stark contrast to the other tools. An obvious reason hung on the front, showing near identical tools slightly bent and even shorter from repeated use. As wild as the notion did seem, the metal was obviously not going to be on par to grade 9 titanium like back home. Probably not much better than crudely refined iron, let alone steel. There were certainly going to need to be some improvements to the manufacture and process that was currently implemented in society if this was standard.
A couple hours have passed, and the workbench has been cleaned to an impeccable degree. I only need to climb the workbench''s tool wall and clean the top board of it''s dust, and I''ll be done with the workspace. As my elevation started to reach it''s peak, something started gleaming brightly¡ªa reflection coming from a wooden crate with it''s lid ajar. Where or what the light source was, I had no idea, but there was a reflection metallic and colorful, unlike anything I knew. I reached the top and started my duty, inching along the 6-foot length of support but keeping an eye on which crate that was. I hadn''t much focused on anything besides what was directly on the floor earlier and was nonshelaunt about a simple obstacle that I had just cleaned around. The lid was hardly off anyway and undicernable from the two other crates. Soon enough, I''d be finished and be heading down to check out whatever was in that box.
Task Complete! Clean Tren''s Workspace Difficulty: A (C-) Rewards: 1 Artisan Point 200 XP
Level Up! User LVL 1 > 3 6 Attribute Points Available
ZIP! A white orb popped through the solid stone ceiling and shoved itself into my face. Quickly illuminating my view and causing my phantismal self to squint and wave in front of my eyes to no avail as the windows just shown through my arms. The last thing I had expected was for the obnoxious dinging to come blaring back. It''s loudness far exceeding that of what would be audible to normal ears, but on closer attention to the window, I realised quickly why it was so loud. One window had an unusually bright outline. A clear sign that there were actually about a dozen windows overlapping and all in one spot. Shuffling through their contents was the now complete request, with its discovery difficulty, a gray questionmark, the profile of Tren with only information I had gleamed from what he had told me and my impression of him, a quest to learn more about the depths of the deepest place above water with a rank of M, whatever that means, 3 windows with updates to a quest to "discover the underground civilization or dispell it''s myth," which apparently I had learned quite a bit since Tren''s acquaintance, and lastly a unique window with several bars showing what I had contained within my mass. Talk about a mouthful to chew. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! I thought back to my escape on the surface. I recalled that in the heat of things was right when the white orb had disappeared from the corner of my vision; the orb''s color hadn''t seemed important at the time, but the windows were distinct. There were blue ones I didn''t pay attention to and disappeared when I accidentally looked at them, red ones always at the edge of my viewing range, green showed up and disappeared only to show me my unlocked nature, and, lastly, white, which was the system as I understood it. Maybe there were more, but back to the present. The new window had a transparent and uneaven edge; its resemblance to a slimey creature was blatant and obvious. Within me was nondescript soil, viscous fluids, lively colony (e+), reduced metals, and organic matter. Not very descriptive, but probably all the information that the slime could decipher with it''s simplicity. In fact, I was pretty sure that the window was directly from the slime itself, not part of the other windows and more a part of us. It, the vessel, me, the pilot, and the window¡ªa display in my cockpit. I had fronted the information the windows provided, tossed the quests to the back since it was pretty clear I''d be completing them later, and resumed my curious trend in the direction of some boxes. As I closed the distance, I noticed a black brick sitting in the middle of the room, roughly the size of a smartphone back in the early 21st century. Instantly recognising it from earlier as a byproduct of my previous¡ªand first¡ªmeal, I snagged it and drug it along with me. I had no idea of its use or perhaps lack thereof, but leaving such a thing just lying about wasn''t my idea of a perfectly clean room, which I was hoping Tren would be at least slightly ecstatic about. He already has shown probably the least emotion out of anyone I''d ever met. I propped the brick on its side against the box and started to scale it''s corner. The box was actually sealed, but the lid, through some deformations, no longer fit the box it was built for, and the residual crack from the improper fit left nearly half an inch of gap to peer into its depths and, for me, to slip into. The inside was rather roomy for what I''d thought was going to be mostly full; the slight glow contrasted the pitch darkness of this particular dark corner, and the apparatus and its crystal core were also far more refined and sophisticated in comparison to most of Tren''s other belongings. That''s assuming these are in fact his; not that I''d judge if it was stolen from a certain prick who tried to capture me, but anyway. The glow had grown slightly brighter when I got closer to the middle of the silver rings surrounding the large gem; each ring holding a different orrientation made it look like a piece of art or perhaps a measuring device from some fantasy to seek distant places among the stars. My non-physical body had shrunk to suit my very short stature, and I stood beside my new body looking at the crystal. The reflection I saw earlier flared and was shown again, but instead of reacting to my slime, it was heavily focused on my incoporeal stature. I saw my face and body in detail, familiar and exactly what I expected, but my arms and legs had developed slime-like natures, reflecting my adaptation to a new body to control. I lifted my arm up, and the reflection mimicked my wave, the slime arm trailing slightly with no bone structure to give it rigidity. Comparing what I saw of my own phantom body and the reflection showing some insight to who I was becoming was an interesting perspective change. I reached out to touch the crystal. "I wouldn''t do that if I were you." Tren''s voice tappered off slightly while he looked at my reflection. He whispered slightly under his breath, "A facinating reflected persona you have indeed." I had shrunk back from the fancy mirror, slightly startled by his voice. ''I respect the urgency but a knock would have surficed.'' "Danger waits for no one, small friend, and I would rather not lose the only other... person... down here with intelligence that wants to talk instead of trying to slaughter any little thing that so much as has a heartbeat." He said with a grim smile. A couple clicks riddled out as he fiddled with the box and eventually popped the lid off the container and fished me out. I clung to his hand and wrist like a glove and pointed at the brick knocked over from where I''d propped it. ''Any use for a slime brick?'' He grabbed it, shaking his head. "You can just eat it again and it will disappear. If I recall correctly, I think I overheard a mage talking about slimes gaining something depending on what the slab''s material was created with. Not my expertise though, so take it with a grain of wheat." Chapter 9: Soul 1 ''So the mirror is dangerous? Assuming it is in fact a mirror.'' I still clung to Tren''s hand as he went about doing his wake-up routine. "Dangerous to registered souls? No. However, in your case, I''d say you''d most likely be trapped at the very least. And in the case of an ordinary slime, most likely their soul would be completely obliderated." He set down his comb, which he only used for his eyebrows, and continued to fasten several belts to himself, later starting slotting various tools into numerous leather and fabric loops. "You did a great job on the tools; they look even better than when I bought them. Not that that''s saying much when they were the cheapest thing on the shelf, but I wasn''t paying the prick anything more than I''d need to for his overpriced wares." ''Actually, on that topic, how is the economy in this world? The world I came from nearly forwent transactional trade, as most things were uninvolved human-wise.'' "What a wild place you must have lived for that to be the case. To answer your question, every region has anywhere from the top notch of anything you could think of to the cheapest, least valuable items hardly acceptable as sellable products. And prices everywhere in between for both categories." Tren placed his now gloved hand into a thinking position on his chin and restated, "Actually, you could probably think of some things they don''t sell after all." Tren started to gesture for me to get off amidst our coversation. ''I''d imagine so. I''m already here; may as well act as a glove in place of those very well worn scraps, which I can hardly recognise as gloves.'' "I''d agree if you could actually protect my hands, but rather I''d ask for your assistance getting into the nooks and crannies of this damn magic drill core. There are too many screws in hard-to-reach spots, and I don''t have the tools to completely disassemble the frames that protect them." I promptly peeled myself away from his rough hands and scrunched closer to the drill. I wondered if I would be of much help, as I wasn''t very strong. Sure, I could get into small spaces with no problem, and that''s all he asked for, but I want to apply my knowledge and see if I couldn''t further assist in his magilogical endeavors. As for how applicable my knowledge would even be seeing as it is in fact an entirely different category and, for what I do know, probably functionally different to a significant degree too. The only counterpoint relevant in my mind is the undeniably recognizable symbol for a power button back on earth right here. Another world disregarded. I''d better just ask, ''This button here, what does it do?'' I stretched up and encircled the protruding button. "The operation button? It activates the drill core right before insertion into a drill rig. But other than the mana gem at it''s center and a few of the buttons on the front, I don''t know much about these systems." Tren began his work unscrewing several screws and bolts at a steadily increasing, quick pace, clearly experienced in his work, and took on a look of concentration. I just sat by watching him operate on the machine, removing piece after piece, splaying its internals around the workbench as he encroched on its center. One part he placed right on top of me, his intention clear as it was covered in gunk. The cleaned piece was what took me off guard. It''s similarity to a machined part¡ªextreme precision milling, to be precise, excluding the signature sheem that would come from the repeated passes of a bit over a metallic surface¡ªwas a gear far more refined that even had a polished shine after my cleaning. Someone had to be an expert metalworker, a genius among the masses, or I severely underestimated the industrial progression undertaken previously on this world. Maybe I could blame it on magic though. I was struck out of my entranced attention to some fine metalwork when Tren plucked me up and moved me into his area of laybor''s attention. I was held somewhat like an oversized pen and wrapped around his forearm with my current excess mass not currently in use. Really, I felt that I could probably just plop down into this machine''s internals to eat away any and all the gunk that was clearly visible, but his warning came and executed that train of thought before it could get off the ground. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Before you go thinking, "Why not just jump into the gunk to clean it all at once?" Let me tell you now, most of this gunk is actually meant to be there. It''s filler material to restructure internal components as needed and only looks as bad as it does right now because of the forced shutdown this core went through." He started to point at various more solidified chunks in the tar-textured gray sludge, "These here are all important parts, and if you removed the support from around them, they''d likely enter a meltdown from a lack of mana conductivity around them at startup." The mention of a meltdown was a bit alarming before I put two together and realized it wasn''t radioactive material we''re working with here. Even if reactors had become over a million times more advanced and safer than the disasters of history, cleaning up the remnants of self-destructed molten salt tritium reactors was no fun task, as he''d heard. However, mana conductivity? New concept indeed. Was it like thermal conductivity and thermal paste? Or was magical conductivity electricity without the need for a completed loop? So many questions. He followed with brief instructions to grab out and clean only certain gears that had bonded to the gray soup, something I couldn''t tell the difference between and had to be pointed to. Sometimes he''d operate with the same hand I was attached to, with a tool expertly flying through his hands in a blur of repeated and experienced utilization, regularly flinging me about a bit as I followed through with my tasks and given a constant flow of new work to complete before my last task was just about finished. Even if he maybe didn''t show it when he talked normally, getting the job done so fast seemed to leave a wide smile on his face, as he left me on the worksurface and laid down to rest after being at it for several hours. The box was now completely back together, and all the fastening bolts were tightly holding the side panels in place. It''s surface was also giving off a new-looking finish after I''d given it''s exterior a once-over. Certainly not a mirror, and definitely rough. It was a component that, by the sounds of things, came into contact with a lot of rock and other abrasive material. Since I had been left to my own devices once again and hadn''t been given a new task, either from his exhaustion, understanding a work-living balance, or just lack of things to do, I proceeded to consume the now 2 bricks created by my consumption of workspace and project gunk. Indeed, as the one-horned man said, the bricks disintegrated just as fast as I reingested the strange, dark substance. My slimy side complained a bit about something that I couldn''t quite make sense of before I started to feel like I was going to pass out.
The slimy blob was gone. No more did she have any hope to find it either, as she''s already lowered the elevator as deep as it could go, if only to reconfirm what was already known. This forsaken mine, as the higher-ups always told her, had no bottom, and anything lost below the 1500-stride elevator maximum was well determined to be long lost and not worth even giving a second thought to. While Misha had been lifting new carts of mined amrill, spots of obvious impacts were clear. A pattern long remembered from daily trips for years to retrieve extracted resources made these walls familiar to a sickening degree. And as such, the new chips and occasional gouge in the walls was a sore thumb that stood out to her. Sitting at her desk once again, she filled out another form detailing the materials mined, how much they weighed, and the average quality in each cart. Sliding it into the narrow slot in her desk that transported the file up to the middleman, she sat back and looked about the empty space. Only 4 people have entered this place in the past 6 years. Misha, The Middle Man, Coust, and her assigned doctor. The Middle Man never spoke, introduced himself, or ever was introduced; she didn''t know his name, only that he came to collect the material and return empty carts to be delivered back into the depths. Coust was part of the upper management, constantly giving her orders agreed upon at a table she would never sit at; again, all she knew about them was that they worked for the same company. The doctor only came in, healed any cuts that would slow down production, ignored anything that wasn''t life-threatening, and moved on with his day, always complaining about being far too busy and something about the hospital selling him out. Finding that slime, for better or worse, would have undeniably at least earned her a shower. Given it hadn''t managed to escape. Instead, all she got was another coin, whose value was supposedly very high, but what does value mean if you can''t use it? Besides, the fact she had the opportunity to meet someone with such mystery at all was more valuable than the chest that was overflowing with money she couldn''t and probably wouldn''t have the opportunity to spend. She was trapped in an endless cycle, working a job that had no end, paid something that had no worth to her, and held accountable for things she had no control over. The Middle Man entered the dimly lit area and walked over to the carts, linking them together and tugging the three full loads out into the light, which she was forbidden. His slender form, in contrast to her own, bulky and buff, showed no strain at all doing something she''d have strugged to do. Out and around the bend of the mine''s entrance, his figure disappeared once more, just like every other day. One thing was different, though. Why wasn''t he wearing his hat? Didn''t he always wear his hat? Chapter 10: Soul 2 I had a lot to contemplate. Once again, I find myself sitting in an endless void, unsure of what''s happening in the real world. More than once, I''ve pushed time to accelerate like before when I had a timer to gauge my progress with. Now there is no stimulus or feedback to reflect my effort and energy. So instead I end up landing on an invisible floor and doing a backflip into a noexistent pool, or at least I tried to, even if I know that all I did was push off a surface and keep flying in that direction under no influence of gravity or orientation to actually say that what I jumped off of was the bottom, top, or sides of anything. If this space could be objectified in the first place. I cross my arms as I continue my backwards rotation from pushing off a surface in such a manner. My hair sways slightly in the angular momentum from my spin, in perfect opposition to what gravity would relentlessly force upon me. Even now I realize that the only reason it does this is because, in my mind, matter has inertia and thus weight to obey the laws of physics by. Soon, or maybe forever later, I stop spinning. Holding myself still on nothing. As I reach out to feel the borders of this place, I feel that I have in fact stopped moving, but in exchange, the cube that I''m in now spins at the same rate I was spinning. I add gravity, so I start to fall. Impacting a wall and sliding along it until I intersect with the next wall. Here, even now, I can tell the space is still moving, and trying to hold it still makes it gradually slow to a stop. It''s crooked, and the surface, which I''ve decided will be the floor, is slanted at a steep angle. In the midst of all this, I realize that I had given the walls texture and a gray color; otherwise, how would I have been able to see in the void? There was light too, but nothing as a source. Just ambience.
Some more time passes, and after I had leveled out everything, I constructed a small house with outfitted accommodations just to my liking. Nothing was permanent though; I''d walk into another room, and something from the previous room would disappear as soon as I paid it any less attention. A ding rang out, echoing and distant. No mind was given to the sound. It didn''t mean anything to me if I couldn''t interact with the world where the system was operable. Sure, I knew what it was. There never was any doubt; rather, it angered me that I had senses to some degree. The world was passing by just out of my reach. I lost track of time. Somewhere along the way the dings lost their frequency and were replaced with conversation. Strange languages and syllables with no meaning flowing in with no mute button. I sat in a chair, the front wall of a house just behind me as I rested on my front porch. Unless I thought about the rest of the house, only the wall closest to me existed. The sun was setting again. Or maybe it was the first time. It never moved from the horizon, so perhaps an endless sunset is infinite sunsets all at once.
Something must have happened in the next moment, though. The encapsulated world shook violently and shattered into billions of fragments as the real world took shape around me. My phantom self slammed into some kind of workshop space, blinding bright light taking up my vision everywhere I looked. Searing pain struck through me as a figure worked at their desk. A split moment later it struck me again, the pain welling tears from my imaginary body. As the world cleared up more and more, I could see a man with a knife cutting a dark blue sludge into smaller pieces. A third time the pain stabbed into my body, like a million cuts from razors all along a single plane through my torso. The knife was serated; it was cutting my slime counterpart into thin strips, a goopy mass far from flexible and being sliced like jerky. I screamed, pulling and pushing the man away. It seemed to work, his body stumbling back a few steps from the unexpected force. Quickly, a loud ringing in my ears and the pain from all the previous cuts rushed back, tears rolling down my face, sourced from a limitless supply. I crumpled to the floor in agony, clearly unaudible to the man who mindlessly tried to get back to work. I kicked at his foot, making him fall. As he landed upon my body on the floor, his impact was softened a great deal, some nature-bound rule keeping his and my body separated even if I had no physical form. As he scrambled to regain his footing, his hands ended up encountering my phantom. Trying to feel around my body to identify the invisible, his face struck realization and rushed off somewhere outside of my range of vision. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I took a few minutes to recooperate and stood back up. The pain felt so real, and yet looking at myself, I seemed unhurt. Returning my attention back to my battered and shriveled body on a cutting board, I tried to push myself back together. The slime barely reattatched, a hair-wide connection that eased the pain I felt from the disconnection. My physique looked like long-overused playdough, dirty, and covered in debris. I heard some voices, the words garbled and nonsensical, before four similarly dressed people reentered my range of visibility. The first man was speaking frantically with an excited look on his face; the other three, a woman with a bored face plastered with disbelief; and two other men, who still looked skeptical but at least seemed interested enough to wait for him to finish explaining. Periodically, he would gesture to the floor and mimicked being pushed back from time to time, and later, reaching to pick up the knife he had been using earlier. Uncertain of his intention, I slapped the knife out of his hands. This seemed to surprise not only him but the people who were observing as they trailed the blade clattering along the floor with their eyes. A few questions were asked, and the woman¡ªwho''d seemed so disinterested it was almost agresive¡ªleft for something. Her eyes now held a look of searching for something she knew well. As for the three guys who remained, the story continued as each of them leaned on the counter and island in the middle of the space. The story gradually garnered more attention from one of the newcomers, who started to ask significantly more questions, almost to the annoyance of the other listener. This back and forth continued behind me. I was more interested if I could get any response out of... well, frankly, what looked to be dead slime. My attempts to send messages back and forth like I''d had success a few times before were met with static and white noise. The conversation abruptly stopped, and I looked back to see the three men looking beyond what I could see. As their faces converged on the lady as she walked closer to them, it was now her voice that came into a ramping audibility before she fully entered the edge of my view once more. Held up to her eye was a kind of monicle-looking glass that was glowing blue; her other eye was shut, and the eye peering through the glass was staring straight at me. She seemed to give pause to her step as soon as she came into my range of view, seeing as my eyes snapped straight to her as soon as she got close enough. She looked a bit bewildered at my sight. One of the men seemed to retort something and held out his hand. The annoyed look on her face returned in kind, and she shoved the glass into his hand. He who now held the device looked through it and scanned the room. The smug smile he wore faded rapidly as soon as his vision landed upon me. Instead of further unnecessary conversation from the one who''d taken things less seriously, he quickly handed off the viewing to the other two, directed by those who had already seen to look in my direction. They swapped hands on the glass several times, each kind of freezing in place whenever looking at me. Naturally, I wasn''t just idle as they took turns looking at me; instead, rather quickly, I was turned back around again and trying more experiments with my delaptiated counterpart. The workers gathered to the side, the other three behind whoever was looking at me. They seemed scared of my presence. It seemed they''d adopted a stance where the observer would describe what I was doing and speak to the others about my actions. There wasn''t any reason I found not to try and get myself back to a functional state and attempt to form a drinking glass in the phantom world. Really, I didn''t expect it to work, but something did in fact come from my arm and reshaped into a crude mimicry of a clear container. It wasn''t accurate, and I couldn''t pretend water was in it, but I made drinking mimes to the observer and pointed at my freshly divided slime. They got the memo pretty fast and scooped up my parts into a small tub of water. Unfortunately, they were anything but careful and tore my segments apart in the process. They weren''t exactly secured together, and the pain on my face was evident. This sparked another reaction, which made some of them think that the water was harming me. To my benefit, the woman seemed the most expert in whatever field they were part of and corrected the misconception. My slime practically disolved into the water after a moment, new processes restarting within that hadn''t functioned in a while. The small tub of water turned straight into a tub of most certainly slime, and I began eating all the gunk that was covering me. Within that brief moment, I became far clearer again and hopped back into my body. ''I must thank you for rehydrating me; I was most helpless.'' I sent to the four in the room with me. Back in my body, the system was functioning as it should''ve again, and I could understand the words being spoken. They practically scattered at my words, all looking around searching for where the voice was coming from. "An invader?" "Did someone break in?" "Who else came in today?" "I don''t know; everyone else is sick!" "If a thief got in, they could ruin the antidotes we''re in the process of finishing!" Truely a chaotic bunch they were. At least I thought so. Chapter 11: How long was I out? (pt-1) I crawled from the bin I was currently sitting in and waved a tendril around a bit until I got one of their attentions. ''Yeah, right here.'' "THE SLIME SPOKE!" He screamed, running away and dropping something, causing a few jars to fall off the bottom shelf he was next to. Now panicking, he fled from what I''ve deemed to look like an early 19th-century chemistry lab and out the door. My attention was on the glass jars that fell a several inch distance but didn''t break. The other three were more or less alarmed but stayed calm, now redirecting their attention to the now very alive blob on the counter, very much in range of them. Giving themselves a bit of space, they backed off a bit and started to converse with one another like before. ''I''d rather not need to tiptoe around just to get some basic needs. Could someone explain what''s so scary about a talking slime? If it helps, I''ll introduce myself first. My name''s Jack.'' Looking back amongst themselves, they nodded and returned with chained inquiries first: "How did you get in here? Was that your soul standing around earlier? Are you possessing that slime?" The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ''Where the slime goes, I go. Yes, I was outside of my body earlier. No, I don''t think possession is the right term for my situation.'' My linked response went. A new slime waste block formed in my body and was hastily expunged onto the counter next to me. I picked it up and placed it in the bin I''d exited and thought back on how eating the first brick practically killed me. Did something go wrong for me to black out for... actually, how long was I out? I know I sped up time in my mental space several times, but I just hope it hasn''t been a millennium or sometime else wild. The 4 had now regrouped and were catching up on the previously exchanged bits of information. Ping-ponging topics: they spoke about me, what to do about the disease, if I was dangerous, if the antidotes were safe, and maybe if I was friendly. It seemed these researchers were a small, healthy group among a very sick population. They were quite engaged in their conversation, and to me it felt that they were partly satisfied with my response, enough to practically forget I was in the room with them. I split my attention from them and looked about the space; there were a good number of what I guessed to be potions and vials with varying colors and some vibrant glows. Others were mixtures of contrasting colors that you''d imagine would eventually completely mix but instead swirled about both entirely as one liquid but also separated like tar and water. A smaller vial was uncorked and in a holder next to me. The pink, shiny liquid contained seemed hydrophobic to the glass it was in. Something must have grasped my curiosity because the next thing I knew, I was dipping a tendril in the vial to touch the pink weirdness. Chapter 11: How long was I out? (pt-2) Just as I came in contact with the goop, things seemed to flip upside down. To be precise, I was the thing now upside down and falling... up? I splatted against the open ceiling supports and now had the full attention of the alchemists. "Uhh, Jack... it feels so weird calling a slime, Jack... Did you by any chance eat some anti-grounding potion?" The notably annoyed voice carried up in my direction. ''If it was pink and open, perhaps I have.'' Having reversed gravity was extremely disorienting. As a slime, I had some other weird sense of "uprightness" that wasn''t based on gravitational orientation, and my up was my down and vice versa at the same time. Really, I couldn''t calm my slimy body down at all; I thrashed a bit around, fighting my body''s almost convulsing warbling before the effect very abruptly ended and I splatted back onto the counter with a familiar plap that sounded like wet dough getting tossed onto a counter. ''I don''t think I want to do that again.'' I mutter to my audience, who seem to watch on in a bit of an amused manner from my antics. I manage to regain my calm state after a bit and take note of the slightly lighter mood. Perhaps my wild and clueless nature served to relieve a bit of stress from the alchemist''s minds. The vial I had taken a taste of had been reduced by almost none at all, and several other vials were also open. It''s here where I also see a vial filled with an impossibly violet dust that is upside down, differentiating it from any of the others in my view. Deciding not to take another risk with myself as collateral, I asked, ''What is this vial filled with?'' I was promptly ignored... Kind of rude... I was going to make a fuss about it until the four separated and the three who arrived after my painful awakening departed. The man who had been slicing me to ribbons walked over and leaned in to inspect my now night-and-day transformation from opaque and dirty to clean and readily transparent. Nodding at my recovery, he went about his activities whilst speaking to me and answering questions, which were bottomless. "That vial is containing the tainted bone marrow from an essence-based overlord. Its properties make it react negatively to mana, and thus it floats. The vial it''s in is also made of mana-insulated glass; otherwise, it''d scatter everywhere and anywhere that there was the slightest amount less mana." He''d taken on answering questions more fully to reduce the number of questions I asked, and much to my pleasure, it worked. ''How many potions are here? Are they easy to make? How are you supplied? Could I make one? Does mana impact the result? What is the most difficult potion to craft? Do potions react poorly with one another? What happens if you mix fire resistance with a fire potion? What''s up with the mixed potions? What is the base for a potion? Is there something like potion sickness? What''s your name? What''s up with the sickness outside? I also overheard mention of an antidote. Why-'' "PAUSE! Pause..." He scratched his head, taking a seat on a stool he pulled out from the island. "There are some things I will refrain from sharing with you. Personally, I didn''t know what you were, but my supervisor, Chriss, understood and clued the rest of us in. While you were messing around with an open vial earlier¡ªwhich we highly disapprove of and only haven''t taken reprisal action against you because of your apparent built goodwill¡ªChriss spoke of a note that came with your acquisition listing what an amazing tool you were, your previous owners, and several other details. She also mentioned that it stated the first person who exchanged hands with you supposedly described you as a reincarnation, and, after extensive testing, it was deemed false. Now, obviously, that isn''t true. And on the topic of your acquisition, you were apparently handed around through several owners before ending up here after your supposed use became gradually more and more nonexistent." You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Wow, what an info dump this chem-boy just dropped on me. Was I just a useful tool? Best get what''s important, asked, I guess. ''Does the note tell how long I was handed down for?'' "You''ll need to talk to Chriss tomorrow; she''s the only person who could both know what can and can not be shared with you and what the full contents of the note are. However, my name, on the other hand, is of course mine to speak." He chuckled a bit. "My name''s also Jack." We chuckled together a bit, and awkward silence ensued. Breaking the weird tension that came from the revelation, I reached a tendril out and hoped he''d understand the gesture. It took a moment and as he reached to shake my tendril I said, ''Nice to meet you, Jack.'' Jack 2 said something, but I only heard it as gibberish until a little later his voice came after his lips had moved, "Touche." My guess was the translation struggled a bit with whatever the equivalent was for the saying. ''So, uh, come here often?'' I smiled internally as he chuckled a bit more. "Only every day." Retracting my noodle arm, I inquired, ''I''m a bit curious about what precisely your job position is. From what I understand, you are an alchemist, but maybe there is something along the lines of researcher, scientist, or some other title that would suit your position better.'' He thought for a moment before replying, "These... "words" you''ve thrown into my mind don''t hold any specific definition in my language, but as far as the three concepts you''ve provided, I think maybe a combination of "Researcher" and "Alchemist" would accurately describe what I am." He gave some pause for more thought before continuing, "What I find most fascinating though is that I could speak "Researcher" and "Alchemist" despite not knowing the words or their precise meanings; something is doing that for me!" ''Very interesting indeed, I did not know my skill would allow for others to use words from English in whatever temporary state this is. For that matter, I''d like you to try and remember those two words and how they''re said and attempt to repeat them tomorrow.'' "Ok." He nodded. "I''ll be heading off to the bunks now; see you in the morning!" Before I could even project my situation of being alone for several hours or that I had nothing to do or what I should and shouldn''t do, he scuttled off and out the door with surprising speed. As it turns out rather obviously, having nothing to do is in fact very boring, and thus I found myself doing the very thing I could imagine my "tool form" being. An overglorified mop. I hopped and plopped right onto the floor to slide and roll about, eating the dust bunnies and other miscellaneous debris. As a bit of an addition to my task of cleaning the floors, I also suctioned onto some lost jars and vials below the bottom shelves. Some of them were even full and only left unspilled because of the corks securing their contents. I deposited the various containers at one of the inner corners of an elbow protrusion in the lab. These counter-height workspaces seemed to extend for ages, but eventually I ended up with two piles of lost goods at each end of the lab. I swear it looked like it was 1,000 feet long, but my calculated size and number of rotations from one end to the other clued me in on it only being about 90 feet. Chapter 12: Chriss Perhaps I need to lose a habit or two; back on earth, I''d often be found by a loved one or a colleague after going missing for several hours, only to be found out I was, once again, just busy doing work somewhere on something. It didn''t matter what that something was, if it was my favorite thing to do in the world or the most menial, boring task under the sun; I''d lose track of time and get the job finished or get interrupted on my way to its completion. And this morning, the same seems to have happened. Chriss, as I''ve recognized from yesterday and the second lady I''ve put a face and name to, is currently staring at me, on her hands and knees, with her head to the floor to see under one of the counters. I am, of course, still in a bit of a workaholic hangover and staring blankly back at her, not that she''d be able to tell. Snapping out of my work-mode and into my social-mode, I rolled out from under the workspace to greet her, ''Morning.'' "Morning? It''s well after midday, and the other three dunces freaked out when you''d gone missing and two piles of "random stuff" appeared out of nowhere." ''Oh...'' "Yeah, oh, but I must thank you for cleaning the floors; with everyone being sick near to death, none of the cleaners could come and tidy up in the last half year." ''I meant to ask about that yesterday, but Jack was reluctant to answer pretty much anything other than my first question before introducing himself and departing at a rapid pace. Anyways, he also said you''d be open to sharing and answering my questions, particularly about a note that was passed around at my changing of owner and just how long I''ve been in my tool-like slumber.'' Shaking her head, she adjusted a few things above me out of my direct line of sight and pulled another stool from the island that stretched most of the length of the lab. As she sat, she pointed at the smaller pile that was closest. "Some of those ingredients and potions are pretty valuable, and you handled them with care. The empty vials could have been discarded though, or even eaten if you are capable of such feats. From what I know about slimes, it should definitely be possible." ''I cleaned them, unsure if they''d be recyclable. As far as I know, I can''t eat something as hard as glass; at the same time, I haven''t tried either, so maybe I''ll surprise myself.'' We headed over to the pile, and she grabbed a few of the empty vials. It looked like she was inspecting my job after I mentioned my cleaning. I took a shard from one that had broken and tried to consume it. The glass vibrated inside my innards before shattering into 200 or so smaller pieces. Each of these smaller pieces, one after another, repeated the step once more, creating some very fine glass sand floating and swirling inside me. After observing if it would change beyond that state for a couple of minutes, she probed my progress. "Does it only get broken down into a powder?" ''I''m not sure. It feels like I''m in the middle of eating, so I think the process is still going. Does it look different from what you know?'' "A bit, the time I saw a slime eat glass was on one of my team''s expeditions to hunt and kill a slime that had eaten a hole straight through a town. No one got hurt, but it just so happened to be headed in the right direction to go straight through a capital. I''d have loved to experiment on a slime that had such eating powers, but the very container I''d tried to capture it in was made of glass, and it simply postponed the slime''s progress for a few short moments before boring a small hole barely larger than its core and squeezing right on through. The team decided it was in fact a problematic situation, and the kill order that would have been accomplished via capture and instead studied by me was unfortunately fulfilled as advertised." ''Unfortunate.'' "Indeed, still, that slime looked like it had melted its way through the side of my slime jar like an impossibly potent acid. You, on the other hand, have broken the shard into innumerable pieces and appear to be furthering that process." She bent down and plucked me right off the ground to get a closer look. ''In the world I''m from, such an acid existed. Though it wasn''t considered very strong.'' If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Her eyes widened at the mention of glass-dissolving acid. "How did you contain it then? As far as I know, nothing that can''t be held by glass can even be moved outside of mana levitation, and that''s only if the acid doesn''t eat your mana too." ''I can''t remember specifics but basically acids are just substances that can break apart atomic bonds of various materials; thus, we just made something with stronger bonds than glass.'' She hummed at my words, looking a bit confused. "What does "atomic" mean? For the most part I can understand everything else you said, but this word''s concept just doesn''t make any sense. It''s like a word with a missing meaning." ''Perhaps because of the level of development into devices that can peer into the building blocks of almost everything is maybe a bit lacking or possibly nonexistent, you wouldn''t have the knowledge to understand what I mean. When I say atomic, its meaning in this case is of a certain scale. An atom is the smallest whole building block of any physical material or substance. I hope that tidbit helps.'' "Well, you describe it well enough. You say these "atoms" make up everything? And on a scale... do you mean to say they are very small?" ''Precisely.'' "If I wanted to see a single atom, how small would I need to be?" ''Uh, well, disregarding the whole impossibility of being that small or being able to see anything at all, you''d need to shrink close to the magnitude of 10 billion times smaller. At that size you''d be able to feel the active push of each individual atom along a surface.'' "Why wouldn''t I be able to see?" ''Well, once you get to a certain size, light becomes too big for your eye, as strange as that may sound.'' "I don''t get it, and I feel a little dumbfounded at what it would take to see an atom if you can''t become small enough to see them. One more question though: how does light work? More accurately, how can we see?" ''I''ll try my best to explain in simple terms for you. Light has a frequency; that is, it shakes back and forth along its path. That frequency would become too wide for your eye to perceive after getting below a certain size. Colors, as you know them, are actually just different frequencies of light, and when light bounces off something that we call red, it''s because the object that is red absorbed most of the light that wasn''t red. Seeing color is really just seeing visible light minus what wasn''t reflected off a surface. As for vision itself, humans have three types of detectors in their eyes. One for red, green, and blue. Each of these sensors can send their signal intensities, and your brain interprets these signals as a color. From black to white, all three sensors are saying they are at equal levels from 0 to their maximum; every color signifies that one or two of the sensors are detecting a lower or higher intensity than the remaining sensors. Make sense?'' "Yup, it makes sense to me. Now I''m just jealous of whatever world you come from. It sounds so advanced." She confirmed while scribbling down onto a clipboard. ''That brings me to something else. I''ve been wondering, is there a library or other form of public information sharing establishment?'' "Sure, there are libraries, but they are usually controlled by the mages of whatever region you''re in. And typically the only thing stored there is magic or skill related. Getting into such a place for a slime would be near impossible unless you end up capable of casting a spell, which is all the verification you need to enter such a place. From what I do know about getting inside myself is most of the information is separated into several floors, either ascending or descending, and gaining access to the next floor can be quite the hurdle. Most mages are rather petty and would likely despise a monster trying to improve its casting skill, seeing as most mages are there solely to kill monsters faster and better in the first place." ''Well, that throws a wrench into my plans. I was optimistic about having access to knowledge at my fingertips even if I had to move to come into reach of said knowledge.'' "Did you not need to browse the aisles to gather more information in your old world?" ''We had something called a smartphone. These devices could fit comfortably in the grip of your hand and had access to all of human knowledge.'' "How did it store so much in such a small space!? Surely they were expensive and few existed, right?" ''Well, to clarify, every phone would connect to an external network. Somewhere on that network there would be a database or, in analogy, a really compact library. That would then send you information based on what your search inquiry was. Uh, but I''ve just realized that we''ve gone on a really long tangent, and while I''d love to explain all the fancy intricacies of Earth technology, I still don''t know how long I was a tool and not myself, and that''s pretty important to learn sooner rather than later.'' "My apologies, you''re just full of information, and I''m almost giddy about learning that everything is made up of super tiny parts. I just want to learn so much more! At any rate, let me grab the note, and I''ll be right back." ''Wait! Just take me with you; I''ve been stuck in a lab room for longer than 24 hours and need a change of scenery!'' She pivoted right back around and ripped my apparently partially adhered self from the smooth counter. Shhrrrrp. Off we went out into the hallway and through a few more sets of doors. Somehow I hadn''t earlier put together that I was on the surface now, but the sun shone brightly over the horizon, casting a vibrant yellow-orange on the wall through the windows. Rapidly we arrived and entered what I presumed to be an administrative office with a manastone shining brightly and illuminating the comfortably spaced personal workspace.