I — I need to get out of here.
I need to — wherever I am, whatever this is, I need to—
I pushed.
I contracted my form — my slime form, because apparently I was a slime now — and I pushed against the chamber walls, squeezing back through the passage I had entered through, the tight, warm, wet passage that was—
That was—
I shot out.
Like a cork from a bottle.
My body — my small, round, gelatinous body — popped free of whatever had contained me, arced through the air, and hit the cold stone floor with a wet ‘splorch’.
I sat there.
A blob.
A quivering, translucent blob of blue-ish jelly on a stone floor in a dimly lit cavern, surrounded by the smell of — of something.
Something musky and biological and fundamentally, unmistakably female.
I had no eyes.
But I could see.
Some form of perception that worked better than vision — a 360-degree awareness of my surroundings that fed information directly into my consciousness without the need for optical organs.
I could see the cavern.
The crystal-streaked walls.
The fissure in a shattered stone door.
The enormous wall of ice that dominated the far end of the chamber, and within that ice, the vast, dark shape of something sleeping.
Something scaled.
Something that radiated a presence so enormous that simply perceiving it made my newly formed consciousness want to curl into a ball and hide.
But that was not what held my attention.
What held my attention was the body.
She lay on the floor less than two feet from where I had landed.
A woman.
Human, or close to human.
Completely naked, her body sprawled on the cold stone, one arm extended toward the ice wall, the other limp at her side.
Her skin was pale — not the healthy pale of someone who avoided sunlight, but a grayish, translucent pallor that spoke of something deeply wrong.
I could See the faint outlines of structures beneath her skin — bone, muscle fiber, veins — as though her body was becoming slightly transparent, like fogged glass.
Her hair was blonde.
Tangled, matted, spread across the stone floor in a halo of gold that seemed to catch the crystal-light and hold it.
The hair on her head.
The coarser, curling hair between her legs — blonde too, darker from the moisture that clung to it, the inner thighs still glistening with a wetness that I recognized, with a horrible, dawning, soul-deep comprehension, as the same fluid that had coated my entire body inside that passage.
Her breasts were full, heavy, pressed against the stone, flattened by the weight of her body, the nipples pink and stiff from the cold.
Her legs were apart — not spread obscenely, but fallen open in the way of an unconscious body with no muscle tension to hold the limbs together, her knees slightly bent, her hips tilted, and between her thighs—
Between her thighs was where I had been.
Where I had just emerged from.
Where I had spent the first moments of my new life, floating inside the warm, wet, soft-walled chamber of an unconscious woman’s—
I screamed.
I had no mouth.
I had no vocal cords.
I had no lungs.
But I screamed anyway, and the scream manifested as a frantic, high-frequency vibration of my entire slime body that made the stone floor beneath me buzz and sent a ripple through the small puddle of fluid I was sitting in.
A VAGINA.
I WAS INSIDE A VAGINA.
I WAS REBORN INSIDE A WOMAN’S—
「Indeed, Host.
Initial incubation occurred within the reproductive canal of a human female.
Evolution was calibrated based on biological data acquired during incubation.
Current form has been optimized accordingly.」
The voice — the system, the supercomputer, whatever it was — delivered this information in the same flat, toneless manner, and I wanted to strangle it, except I had no hands.
“No,” I said.
I had no mouth, but I could somehow project sound — vibrations through my body that formed words.
“No.
No, no, no.
You’re telling me — when I first appeared here, when I was in that — that passage, that chamber — I was—”
「Correct.
Host materialized within the vaginal canal of an unconscious human female.
Bio-absorption and evolution were initiated based on environmental data gathered during incubation.
Duration of incubation: approximately 47 seconds.
Evolution completed successfully.」
“Forty-seven — I was in there for FORTY-SEVEN SECONDS and you decided to — to WHAT?
Turn me into some kind of—”
「Sensory Adaptive Slime._subtype: Pleasure-integrated.
Traits are permanent and cannot be reverted.」
“Pleasure-integrated?!
What does that even—”
「Host body may generate, detect, replicate, and transmit biochemical pleasure signals through contact with organic tissue.
Additional traits include fluid adaptation, bio-absorption, and sensory mimicry.
Full skill list available upon request.」
I stared — or whatever the slime equivalent of staring was — at the unconscious woman on the floor.
At her spread thighs.
At the glistening wetness between them.
At the blonde hair, the soft pink folds, the clear evidence that I had just — that my entire existence in this world had begun inside her—
“I was inside the vagina of a woman,” I said, very slowly, very deliberately, because the words needed to be said aloud, they needed to exist in the air — or in the vibration of the stone floor — so that they were real, so that I could not pretend this was not happening.
「Indeed, Host.
You were.」
I would have closed my eyes if I had them.
I did not have them.
I was a slime.
A fucking perverted slime!
‘!’
Then suddenly I realized I was talking to someone else.
“Wait — what are you?” I stammered, my slime body quivering on the stone floor.
“Raphael?”
The word had left me before I even understood why.
Some fragment of memory, some instinct buried in the transmigration process, had surfaced and thrown the name at the system like a bone to a dog.
And the system — that flat, mechanical, maddeningly calm voice inside my consciousness — had caught it.
「Understood.
Registering designation: Raphael.
Acknowledged as per Host’s request.
All future system communications will operate under this identifier.」
“No, wait — I was just — that wasn’t —”
「Designation locked.
Thank you, Host.」