Chapter 1: Awakening in the Void (Prolog)

The blinding light erupted from nowhere, scattering shards of brilliance across the barren, desolate landscape. Jagged stone outcrops, rolling dunes of coarse sand, and endless mounds of gravel stretched as far as the eye could see. No vegetation, no animals, not even the faint hum of insects disturbed the eerie stillness. In the center of this lifeless expanse, the light slowly faded, revealing a solitary man standing bewildered amidst the emptiness.

The man blinked, his mind struggling to grasp his surroundings. He turned in place, his boots crunching against the gritty ground, seeking something—anything—to anchor him. But there was nothing. His lungs ached, and with a sharp gasp, he realized he couldn't breathe. The air was alien, devoid of oxygen. He clawed at his throat, panic rising in his chest as his vision began to blur. Just as darkness threatened to claim him, a second blinding flash illuminated the desolate scene.

This time, when the light vanished, a massive, gelatinous creature loomed where the man had stood. The creature was a translucent sphere of pulsating, shifting colors, spanning an impressive ten meters in diameter. Before he could react, the man found himself enveloped by the slime. Its surface shimmered like liquid crystal, and it absorbed him entirely.

Struggling against the amorphous substance, the man's instincts screamed at him to hold his breath. His limbs flailed weakly within the viscous mass, his mind consumed by the certainty of impending death. The overwhelming pressure, combined with the burning in his lungs, forced him to inhale—and to his astonishment, the substance filled his chest. The suffocating panic faded, replaced by an unnatural calm. Then, darkness overtook him.

When he regained consciousness, the man felt weightless, suspended within the translucent slime. He glanced down at his hands and nearly screamed. His skin, once opaque and familiar, was now as transparent as the creature surrounding him. He could see faint, jellyfish-like patterns where his veins and muscles should have been. Even his organs, which floated faintly within his chest, seemed to pulse with an ethereal glow. Yet, he felt no discomfort, only a surreal detachment from his altered form.

Before he could process the grotesque transformation, he noticed something else in his hands: a basketball-sized sphere shimmering with rainbow hues. The object pulsated with a rhythmic energy, and as his fingers tightened around it, a torrent of information surged into his mind.

The sheer volume of knowledge was overwhelming. Memories, concepts, and foreign data crashed against the fragile barriers of his consciousness. He clutched his head, the pain unbearable, and focused on distilling the flood into manageable fragments. Gradually, the chaotic stream coalesced into something coherent. A translucent blue window appeared in his field of vision, hovering as though projected from within his mind.

SlimeDOS is loading...

The words floated in the air, and a progress bar began to fill. The interface reminded him of a futuristic operating system, but its design was unmistakably slime-themed. Icons shaped like colorful blobs adorned the virtual desktop, each one pulsating with a soft glow. A new window popped up, bearing the header: Help Page.

He read the contents, his translucent eyes scanning rapidly:

"Warning: Current consciousness capacity is operating at 98% utilization to decompress, interpret, and install information. Estimated time for full process completion: 1,000 Earth years. Remaining capacity has been allocated for emergency functions and baseline cognition. Effective mental capabilities remain equivalent to pre-transformation human levels."

The man let out a hollow laugh, his gelatinous chest quivering. "At least I'm not any dumber," he muttered.

Another notification appeared, prompting him to open a status page. He willed the interface to comply, and the screen changed to display environmental data. The details were startling:

Planetary Status:Orbiting a yellow dwarf star within the habitable zone.Diameter: ~20,000 km.Atmosphere: 95% nitrogen, remainder composed of noble gases.Surface Composition: 55% water, 45% barren stone.Moons: Three (Diameter: 4,000 km, 2,500 km, 1,100 km).Observations:No cellular life detected outside slime zone.Evidence of periodic irradiation by pulsar bursts at 213-year intervals. Last irradiation: 3,411 years ago. Pulsar no longer active.

The words carried an unsettling finality. The planet's lifeless state wasn't natural—it had been systematically purged by cosmic forces. Yet the absence of recent pulsar activity meant the world was now stable, a blank slate ripe for change.

"SlimeAPP" had already reached its own conclusion, as another notification informed him:

"Terraforming Protocols Initiated. Analysis suggests planet is suitable for slime-based ecological reconstruction. Utilizing Mana reserves for Phase One: Creation of Level 1 Simple Dungeons (Seed Dungeons)."

The man's thoughts churned as he digested the implications. The interface mentioned "Human.exe" data had been integrated into the process, drawing from something labeled the "D&D Database." He recognized the term from his old life: a fantasy role-playing game filled with intricate rules and lore. However, the system clarified that its database was a composite of countless sources, unified under the "D&D" label for simplicity.

As if in response to his curiosity, the terraforming sequence began. A series of rippling vibrations emanated from the slime, radiating outward across the barren landscape. The ground quaked, cracks spreading like veins through the stone. Pools of shimmering liquid—miniature slimes—bubbled up from the fissures, their colors and sizes as varied as the spectrum. These pools coalesced, forming the rudimentary outlines of caverns and tunnels.

A status window displayed the process:

"Phase One: Level 1 Simple Dungeon Creation… 12% Complete."

The man watched in awe as the barren land transformed before his eyes. The once desolate plain began to resemble the first draft of a fantasy ecosystem. Crystalline structures jutted from the ground, their jagged forms glowing with internal light. Streams of liquid mana flowed through newly carved channels, feeding the nascent network of dungeons.

Despite the wonder of it all, a question gnawed at him. "Why me?" he whispered, his voice echoing faintly within the slime. "Why was I brought here?"

The sphere in his hands pulsed, and another notification appeared:

"Query recognized. Response: Integration of Human consciousness was a surprise and helped greatly to initialize advanced processes. You being at the same coordinates where teleportation's coordinates were was a surprise to this subsystem. Higher functions may provide clarity after full system initialization (ETA: 1,000 Earth years)."

The answer provided little comfort. As he gazed at the burgeoning dungeons and the shimmering mana rivers, a strange sense of purpose began to take root. This was no ordinary world—it was a canvas, and he was both its caretaker and its first inhabitant.

Hours passed, though time felt meaningless within the slime. The man experimented with the interface, opening various applications and exploring their functions. A "Simulation Mode" allowed him to preview potential ecosystems, complete with flora and fauna adapted to the unique atmospheric conditions. Another feature, labeled "Dungeon Management," provided tools to customize the seed dungeons being created. He could adjust parameters like difficulty, layout, and resource allocation, all with the flick of a mental command.

The man couldn't help but marvel at the surreal absurdity of his situation. He was effectively a living operating system, tasked with rebooting an entire planet. Yet, as overwhelming as it all was, he found himself growing curious—even excited—about the possibilities.

By the time "Phase One" reached 50% completion, the first dungeon was fully operational. A glowing portal emerged at the center of the slime zone, its swirling light beckoning him to enter. Despite his hesitation, the man felt an undeniable pull. With a deep breath—or what passed for one in his new form—he floated toward the portal, ready to step into the unknown.

And so, the first chapter of his strange new existence began, not as a man but as a creature of transformation, in a world where the rules of reality were his to rewrite.