She walked forward, her steps crunching softly against the ground. Red sand stretched out before her in uneven patches.
Jennifer stopped and crouched down, running her fingers through the sand. It felt cold against her skin, almost like fine, powdered ice. She scooped up a handful, letting it sift through her fingers. The grains sparkled faintly in the light as they fell back to the ground.
She stood and kicked at a small pile of sand, scattering it across the path.
She stopped for a moment, squared her stance, and threw a punch into the air. It was wild, her fist veering slightly off course. She followed it with a quick jab from her left hand, then a swing from her right, but her balance wavered, and she nearly stumbled.
“Ugh,” she muttered, shaking her hands out. She rolled her shoulders and tried again. A jab, another jab, then a wide hook. Her punches lacked power and precision, her form loose and uncoordinated.
Still, she kept at it, her movements growing slightly more focused. She imagined herself in a fight, ducking under an invisible opponent’s swing, then countering with an uppercut. Her imagination carried her for a few moments until she overextended on a punch, throwing herself off balance again.
Jennifer straightened, huffing in annoyance.
She was starting to regret her decision.
"I should’ve picked a sword or something," she muttered, throwing another awkward jab. "At least a dagger looks cool when you’re bad at using it. Gauntlets just... make you look dumb."
A floating water bubble drifted nearby and popped on a jagged rock, splattering harmlessly. She paused for a moment, watching another bubble drift lazily past her. This world was strange, unpredictable. But the strangeness wasn’t enough to distract her from her irritation with herself. She resumed her boxing, landing a wild swing that nearly threw her off balance.
"Whatever," she said aloud. "Gauntlets are cool. I’ll make them cool."
She walked a bit further, distracted by her own grumbling, when a strange sound drew her attention. It was wet, like the slap of mud against itself, accompanied by a faint sucking noise. Jennifer stopped and turned. A strange, yellow slug slithered out from behind a rock. It was about the size of a small dog, glistening under the light, with dark ridges along its back and antennae that waved lazily in the air.
"Gross," Jennifer muttered.
The slug didn’t seem to care for her commentary. It surged forward with a sudden lurch, aiming right for her. Startled, she jumped back, barely avoiding its charge. It wasn’t fast—not really—but it was persistent.
It lunged again, and she sidestepped, watching it skid slightly on the slick ground. The slug let out a wet gurgling sound before spitting a glob of goo her way. Jennifer flinched as the goo splattered against the ground near her. She sidestepped again, but a second glob hit her boot, rooting her foot to the ground.
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"Seriously?" she growled, yanking her leg. The goo stretched but didn’t break. The slug saw its opening and barreled forward, slamming into her chest like a squishy battering ram. Jennifer stumbled back, landing hard on the ground.
"Alright," she snapped, scrambling to her knees.
The slug lunged again, its antennae wriggling, but Jennifer managed to twist aside. She swung a fist, connecting with its side. To her surprise, the impact sent a ripple through its gelatinous body, leaving a faint indentation.
"Ha!" She grinned. "Gauntlets for the win!"
The slug shuddered, its body rippled as Jennifer’s punch landed. It was weakened but still far from done. It lunged at her again, antennae twitching erratically. Jennifer barely sidestepped in time and lunged forward, grabbing hold of it. Wrestling the slippery creature was harder than she expected—it squirmed and wriggled, its body strong in a way that didn’t feel natural.
"Just give up already!" she growled, struggling to keep her grip.
As the slug thrashed in her arms, Jennifer focused on her skill. She hesitated, pressing her hand firmly against the slug’s slimy surface. She closed her eyes, concentrating.
_Come on. Do something._
At first, she felt nothing. Then, faintly, it was like her hands were brushing against something deep inside the slug—a pulse or core, hidden beneath layers of resistance. She pushed harder, but the sensation kept slipping away, like water through her fingers. The slug spasmed violently, knocking her off balance and almost breaking her grip.
“It’s fighting me,” she muttered through clenched teeth, her frustration mounting. Her instinct told her what she already suspected—her skill wasn’t going to work unless she brought the creature to the brink.
Jennifer released the slug, letting it drop to the ground with a wet thud. It turned to attack again, sluggish but still dangerous. She dodged its slow lunge, stepping around it to deliver a sharp punch to its side. The creature rippled under the impact but kept moving. Jennifer followed up with another hit, and another, until it began to falter, its movements sluggish and erratic.
When the slug finally collapsed, writhing weakly, Jennifer crouched down and placed her hand against its body again. This time, it was different. The resistance was gone. The faint pulse she had felt before came into focus, steady and clear. Her fingers brushed against something that felt solid yet fragile.
She tugged. The sensation was strange—like pulling a string loose from a tangled knot—but her instincts told her it was working. The slug spasmed once, its body rippling violently, and then it went completely limp, its form collapsing in on itself.
Jennifer stood, her breath coming fast. She looked down at the slug’s remains. Then she felt it—that same tingle in her back, where the faint outline of the key-like mark rested beneath her shirt.
Like something was stored there.
She exhaled slowly, flexing her hands. The gauntlets felt different now—heavier, more solid, almost alive. Jennifer clenched her fists, testing the weight.
“So that’s how it works,” she murmured, looking at the mark of her first victory on the ground.
The goo binding her boot had dissolved during the fight, leaving her free to stand fully. Jennifer straightened, brushing the dirt off her knees. She flexed her fingers again, feeling the lingering warmth in her back, and smirked.
She focused on the slug’s goo, recalling the way it had trapped her foot.
Jennifer held up her hand, concentrating. At first, nothing happened. But then, a thick, red goo began to drip from her fingertips. She jerked her hand back, startled, but the substance didn’t stop. It oozed slowly at first, then faster, pooling in her palm.
"Gross," she muttered, suppressing a shudder. "But useful?"
She pointed her hand forward, imagining the goo shooting out.
A sharp hiss accompanied the surge of goo as it fired out, splattering against a nearby rock with surprising force.
Jennifer blinked, then laughed. "Okay, that’s kind of awesome."
She wiped her hand on the edge of her shirt, grimacing at the residue. The goo seemed to dissolve after a few moments, leaving her hands clean again. Jennifer stared at them, flexing her fingers.
"Gauntlets are cool," she said with a small grin. She glanced at the slug’s remains one last time.
"Now let’s see what else I can do."