Clinging on every surface of the cave, blobs slowly pulsated towards the decomposing bodies. Absorbing the trails of blood on their path, they began dissolving the soft, unprotected tissue. Eventually they had eaten every scrap of food they could sense, and sent out chemicals, signaling all of them to congregate.

The gooey mass was now 60 cm in diameter. It head out, searching light. Finding water instead, it traveled by its edge while consuming worms and small animals. Growing larger, it started rolling, only creeping up steep slopes. Spreading out, it covered less ground but took in more nutrients from the underground fungi and bacteria rich corpses it crossed.

The blob quivered. The air had changed, there was a breeze. Quickly making its way outside, it flattened itself, blending in. The ground was poor, with little more than sparse weeds. It continued on its journey, instinctively wanting more vegetation. Behind it, only a clear mucus was left.

As it traveled, it thought. Its memories were disjointed, impressions of senses it did not currently possess.

It had not existed before. Its sense of curiosity gradually formed, along with many questions.

After sifting through it's knowledge, it identified itself as a monster. A slime - weak mindless creatures that lived in forests. Most of it shuttered in revulsion. It did not know-- why? how?

Understanding was too far. Abandoning these strange thoughts for now, it focused on finding a suitable environment to grow in peace.

~~ - - - - - ~~

Rays of light accompanied her arrival. For the past 2 days she had been unable to log in. Confirming her revival in the Shrine of Romte, the halfling ran West, following the path to Mestir.

Undoubtedly, she had died. Her last thoughts in-game were of going to sleep after teaching Kala how to read. Her adoptive family were all squirrel beastmen, and she - as a halfling - didn't quite fit in, but after months of work learning their craft they had offered her a place to stay. Touched by their kindness, she worked even harder, collecting hides and furs from the neighboring woods and improving her tailoring. The other villagers stayed wary of outsiders like her. Halflings had a reputation as tricksters, bringing misfortune to kingdoms and disrupting order. They had expected her to run off after a month at most, after playing a bad prank or two. Even the scowling of the one-eyed village chief had

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changed during the previous winter. New mothers allowed her to play with their newborn children. She had even been included to dance during the Spring festival.

After half an hour she found herself in front of an empty village. In-game, a week had already passed from the last time she had last laid eyes on it. Yet if another person had come across it, they would have thought it had been at least a decade. The forest was already reclaiming the area, trees growing between worn shacks. She shook, a slight pain in her nose, vision already blurry. Gritting her teeth, she went ahead. There was always a chance of finding someone, or at least, learning what had happened.

--

Her only hint was the fuzzy smell of dark magic. And with every minute the forest erased every single trace of their lives there, growing hundreds of times faster than normal. With the disappearance of every villager, the system considered this area as part of the forest. Any traces of blood and struggling would have been camouflaged and changed by the spreading woodlands. She sat, holding her knees. How had she been so weak? So blind to danger? If only she had been more vigilant, trained harder...

After eons, an adventurous vine poked her back. She snapped, breaking it violently. Pulling out her dagger, she swung blindly, cursing loudly with every strike. In her rage she cut down low leveled monsters and branches alike.

In the end she died, caught off guard, her stamina depleted. Removing her helmet, she told herself she wouldn't make the same mistakes. But first, she was going to get stronger and discover what had happened to the missing villagers.