3 - A deal with a goddess?
[Hey! Wake up!]
Viktorian was deep in a slumbering state, his gooey form juggled in his sleep, wiggling as he stirred his slimy body. His mind wandered—he was dreaming. A mixture of fantasy and desires, unattainable to him. He was back home, seated on his computer.
The ghost girl was next to him, staring at him, watching. Her blue face gawking open mouth as she watched him, game mindlessly.
They stared at each other. Just waiting. A game was on—something, a shooter of sorts. The menu was stuck on a loading screen, but he bore it. The phantom approached him, her eyes haunting, like an evil succubus, she took control of his body. He shook, unable to move, sleep paralysis.
What did she want him? Why did she haunt him, of all people?
Why?
[Hey! Slimeboy! Wake up!]
Viktorian stirred. His thoughts shifted. The ghost was gone, he was elsewhere. He dreamt of soft cushions, cozy and comfy. His cushion had pale white skin and a pinkish puffy dot at its middle bits. It was squeezable and comfy. The cushion jiggled, and so too did Viktorian as he waked himself..
[WAKE UP!]
Viktorian bounced off teh ground. Eyes fluttering open. Staring at the darkness in front of him, he couldn't blink, but he stared twice over at his surroundings. He shivered. It really wasn't a dream. He really was transported to another world. He was still hiding in that little crevice.
He heard someone shouting—a voice. No. The voice.
He was stuck here—the fantastical equivalent of an oversized booger. His future choices were sparse, but he needed to find a way to get a human body, at least if it was possible.
The one good thing was that he was still himself. He still had his intact mind. It meant he could plan and think. A normal slime seemed mindless in comparison.
Speaking of slimes, very few were near the little dark crevice he had slipped into. He peered his gelatinous body outside, staring for hostiles, then waiting.
"Voice...? Voice! Who are you? Where are you?"
[I'm right here.]
where?!
Then a vision clouded his eyes.
He was in an empty white space, much like the void, except it was white instead of pitch black nothingness. Though he had no hands or legs, he could see himself just fine.
The voice, disembodied before, spoke again—this time with command and regal beauty. The voice had a body and appeared before him. Her skin was flawless, glowing in the dark, her curves divine from chest to bosom. She was covered in a nightrobe, on which seemed to contain literal stars or star like things.
He quivered purely from being in her presence.
Who was she?
"Are you awake, slime boy? I have a quest for you."
She loomed closer and pointed her open palm at him.
She was beautiful, her fiery hair was like the sun.
[I am the goddess of Reincarnation, and you have been duped by your own stupidity no less.]
"Huh?"
[Don't huh me, listen, understand and follow my commands mortal.]
"If you're the goddess of reincarnation, then who sent me here."
[A imposter, a usurper, my enemy, a bitch.]
Yikes. Looks like he spawned right into divine drama.
[Now, listen to me]
Viktorian's mind raced. He had just been transported into the body of a slime. By listening to a snary goddess. Goddess why would he listen to another one?
[Because I saved your life, and that means you owe me a debt. You'd have end being cannibalized by your new kind.]
True. But it was a debt he didn't sign up for.
[Ignore your tomfoolery. A sword resides at the upper base of the mountain. I want you to retrieve it.]
"A sword."
[A wholly, onto which I was sealed. Free me and I will bless with an eternity of pleasure and leisure, anything you could imagine.]
There were so many things he wanted. But he wasn't a fool. If something sounded too good to be true. It probably is. Why did he have to give in to her whims? Trust goes both ways.
"And if I refuse?"
[Consider my assistance null and void.]
Viktorian pondered what might be the best choice. He may as well help her—again, she did save him from death. Though even that claim was dubious, that massive gust of wind, could have been a natural disaster, or even another reincarnatee as far as he was concerned.
"Alright, this sword?" he asked her. "I get to it, then what? What do I get?"
[Anything you could desire. I am no ordinary goddess. I was sealed here, shut by people who understand no part of it.]
He needed an incentive to do the work. Even as a slime, he was a lazy bum.
[You're a lecherous character, I can see it in your soul. Do you wish to own your own harem, little slime?]
His interest was piqued.
Would that be possible as a monster?
[What if you could be a man again?]
The vision disappeared and he found himself back in reality. He stood up in the crevice, a little too hard. The stone walls around him shook. The little slimes in the surrounding area stirred.
Oops.
[Now you have to leave, may as well listen.]
He had tendrils now, he could keep hunkering down, if they came to disturb him.
[They would overwhelm you eventually. To grow and level properly, you need to sleep and rest. You'd be choosing death. Leave the crevice, and move through these hallowed out chambers, the sword shouldn't be far.]
Viktorian peered at up at where she had pointed. There, what appeared to be three stories high on the opposite end of the mountain. This goddess had left him with a temporary purpose. It was worth a try, if it meant the reward outweigh the risks.
Viktorian left the dark spot, and had started slithering towards the sword, baring most of the way. The sword was actually in view, just hidden by a tall grass brush.
He needed only to get there. It should be easy—perhaps he had been blessed after all.
Using his tendril as a tool, Viktorian wiggled and bounced and shuffled forward. Little slumbering slimes stood inactive in the afternoon but said no word, nor did they squelch.
Viktorian would not let this opportunity pass.
He jumped at two of them, slamming one into the ground and then baring it.
He slammed one.
[+ 24 Exp ]
Stabbed the next one.
[+ 80 Exp]
No level up? Did every level exponentially scale? Regardless.
There wasn't time to absorb, he needed to be nimble, he moved on.
Viktorian pressed onwards, then reached a broken land bridge—or rather, a makeshift one, half destroyed.
How the hell was he going to get across?
[Slimes are like stretchy rubber. Try moving your clusters of parts]
Wait, can I manipulate myself and make myself a bridge? He wondered. In some way, he was like a little rubber band.
Oh, well, he'd just have to test it.
He imagined himself stretching himself apart.
He elongated and then wiggled into the gap. As he peered below, his heart sank. Horror overtook him. The drop-down below was far away—it could be fatal if he fell. Every moment spent in the editor was loopy.
Viktorian crossed it halfway, his other half stuck behind. He almost lost balance—slipping, wobbling. However, he pushed forward, clamping himself to dirt pockets on the other side of the gap.
Shifted his gelatinous mass to move upwards.
He reached it.
Staring up. The sword loomed ever closer, and hopefully an escape out of this nightmare.
The voice giggled in his head. As he stood there on the precipice.
She had better not be scheming.