Slimantha walked along the street, her black shoes tapping merrily upon the red road beneath her. Obsidian building after obsidian building crept by, each jagged building as unsettling as the last. The sun glowered overhead from the pink shimmering sky. A squelch sounded behind her. She hummed.

Latril, who had been walking beside the slime summoner, abruptly stopped, the taps of her black high-heels falling silent. She glanced back. Her golden eyes, which each contained the likeness of an upward-turned sword, were on the source of the squelching sound, a large blue slime. Said slime stared back at her. Her right eyebrow twitched, and she turned to Slimantha, who had also stopped. The slime summoner’s brown eyes were upon her, a smile on said slime summoner’s face.

“Mind putting that thing away?” Latril said. “It’s”—she glanced at the large blue slime—“annoying.” The slime hunched over.

Slimantha pouted. “Be nice,” she said. “Slimes have feelings too.” She stepped up to the slime and gave it a pat. Slimantha and the slime both glanced at Latril.

A drop of sweat rolled down Latril’s right cheek. “You don’t really expect me to apologize to that thing, do you?”

Slimantha puffed her cheeks out and crossed her arms. She narrowed her eyes and then looked away.

“Fine. I’ll apologize to it.”

“It is a he.”

“I’ll apologize to him.”

Slimantha smiled, lowering her arms. She stepped aside, and a certain swird woman, Latril, stepped up to the slime. Latril’s golden eyes scanned over the bulbous creature. Said creature was large and blue. Its gelatinous body jiggled as it shifted its weight. It shrunk back, jiggling a bit more. Was the thing nervous?

“Sorry for calling you annoying,” Latril said. Before her, the gelatinous creature perked up. It bounced. Was it happy? She turned back to Slimantha. “Can you please put him away though? He’s kind of”—she glanced at the slime—“distracting.”

“Fine. Fine,” Slimantha snapped with her right hand, and the large blue slime began to melt away. It collapsed into a viscous blue puddle. Said puddle then vanished. Slimantha stared at the place the puddle had been.

“Are you OK?” Latril said, her golden sword eyes on the slime summoner still staring at the space that formerly hosted the puddle of slime.

“OK?” Slimantha blinked. “Oh, right.” She finally looked away from the former location of the puddle. “Don’t worry. I’m good.” She smiled. “I was just thinking. What if, like, I summon slime, but the slime is a puddle.”

Now Latril blinked. “A puddle? Why would you want to summon a puddle?”

Slimantha smiled. “Think about it. How did we get here? A puddle. That is how we got here. What if I summon a puddle, but it is not just a puddle?” She spun around spreading her arms. “Don’t you see. The puddle is not just a puddle. It makes perfect sense because the puddle is a portal. Therefore, what if I summon a slime puddle, but it is actually a slime portal?”

“So are you saying you can slime portal us out of”—Latril glanced about—“wherever this place is.” Her golden eyes met with the brown eyes of the beaming Slimantha.

“Well, I suppose I could, but”—she glanced at a large obsidian building looming to the side—“why do that yet?” She flashed Latril a smile and then pointed at the foreboding building she had glanced at. “Let’s explore that one.”

“Sure,” Latril said sarcastically. “Why not go in the creepiest building in eyesight? What could go wrong?” Then she sweatdropped, her golden eyes on the slime summoner extending a hand, the slime summoner’s right hand, to her. “Fine. Let’s go.” She accepted Slimantha’s outstretched hand with her own left hand, and the two, hand in hand, headed to the selected obsidian building.

Slimantha stopped in front of the large obsidian building’s door—a large double door to be more precise. Like the building, the door was of an obsidian make. Even its knob-type handles were obsidian. Slimantha let go of Latril’s hand and made to grab the right doorknob. The soft tan skin of her right hand gently pressed against the knob. She gave it a twist, and the right sub-door swung inward, the knob slipping free from her hand. She blinked as the left sub-door joined the other in swinging inward. She had not touched the left sub-door though. It just kind of swung inward under its own volition.

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“Well, that wasn’t creepy at all,” Latril said, sarcasm evident in her voice. She leaned forward, peering through the doorway. “Looks dark in there.” She glanced at Slimantha. “You sure you want to go in there?”

Slimantha smiled at Latril, her girlfriend. “Don’t worry,” the slime summoner said. She gave the swird woman another smile. “I’m sure it will be fine. Besides, I have slime.” She cupped her hands and summoned a small blue blob, a slime, into them.

“I”—a drop of sweat rolled down Latril’s right cheek—“see.”

Slimantha smiled yet again, the slime in her hands melting away. “Anyway, look.” She pointed through the doorway. “There’s a light. Let’s go.” She stepped into the foreboding building, a certain swird woman, Latril, following after her.

The soft tapping of shoes, both Slimantha’s shoes and Latril’s shoes, sounded against whatever obsidian substance made up the floor. Like said floor, the walls and ceiling also possessed that same obsidian hue. Slimantha walked deeper into the expansive room. Her brown eyes on an illuminated space in the room. She approached said illuminated space, Latril walking at her side.

“Is it just me,” Latril said, glancing up, “or is that light missing a source.” The light in front of the two women looked to be coming from an overhead spotlight. There was no spotlight though. Only obsidian ceiling showed up there.

“Missing a source?” Slimantha stopped at the edge of the illuminated area. She glanced up. “It really is missing a source.” She smiled. “How interesting?” Her gaze returned to the area illuminated by the light with no source. The boundary showed just in front of her upon the obsidian floor. She stepped forward—stepped into the light with no source.

“Why does this feel like a bad idea?” Latril stepped into the light too. A sudden slam drew her attention back to the doorway. She sweatdropped at the sight of the now-closed double door. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped at the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

“Welcome to the tutorial,” the voice said.

Latril glanced around. She didn’t see anyone else other then Slimantha and herself though. Who just welcomed them then?

“Please state your names,” the voice said.

“I’m Slimantha,” Slimantha said. She bent over and stretched her arms before straightening back up. The long locks of her brown hair swayed with her motions. “You are?”

“I am the system. Please state your names.”

System? Seriously? Latril slapped her right palm to her face. She sighed and then drew her hand down. “The name’s Latril.”

“Slimantha and Latril. Your names have been set. You are both level one. Please select your classes.”

Slimantha blinked and then a big smile flashed across her face. “Oh! Oh!” she said. “I want to be a mage! A mage!” She bounced on the balls of her feet.

Latril watched the overly enthusiastic slime summoner for a moment, the swird woman’s right eyebrow twitching. Then she turned her attention back to the system. Her gaze awkwardly drifted about for a moment. Just where was she supposed to even be looking. Anyway … “Knight, I guess,” she finally said.

“Slimantha,” the system said, “you are a level-one mage and have one spell. That spell is fireball. It allows you to shoot a ball of fire. Latril, you are a level-one knight. You have no spells.”

“Can I,” Slimantha said, clasping her hands together cutely, “have a cheese-sandwich spell?”

The system was silent for a moment. Then it finally said, “no,” getting a pout from the slime summoner in response. “Please accept your starting equipment.” A chest popped into existence.

Slimantha blinked and then stepped up to the chest. She knocked on the lid. “Anyone in there?”

“It’s just the starting equipment,” the system deadpanned. “Just open it.”

“Oh, right,” Slimantha said, sheepishly putting her right hand behind her head. “Thought there might have been a mimic in there.” She gave a little laugh and lowered her right hand. Then she flipped open the chest’s lid. She handed the contained sword, a gray metal sword, to Latril and took the contained staff, a wooden staff, for herself. Then she just stared into the open chest. A drop of sweat rolled down her right cheek.

Latril’s eyes went from her new sword to the slime summoner, who still just stared into the chest. “Is there a problem?” Latril stepped up to the chest and looked inside. Her gaze turned into a thousand-yard-stare.

“Please change into your starting armor,” the system said.

Slimantha puffed her cheeks out. “And how”—she reached into the chest—“is this”—she pulled out a pink cloth bikini—“even armor?” She waved the skimpy article of clothing around.

Now Latril reached down. She retrieved the remaining starting armor, a gray metal bikini, from the chest. Her right eyebrow twitched. “Bikini armor?! I am so not changing into this!” She unceremoniously tossed the metal bikini armor back into the chest.

“I’m not wearing this either,” Slimantha said, also tossing the cloth bikini armor back into the chest.”

“The cloth bikini armor boosts magic,” the system said, “and the metal bikini armor boosts defense. I advise changing into your starting armors.”

“No!” Slimantha and Latril said in unison. “We are not changing into those!” Slimantha and Latril turned away from the chest and headed deeper into the obsidian building—deeper into the tutorial. Though they took their starting weapons with them, their starting armor lay abandoned in the chest.