Free from the dust and dirt of the outskirts, I am welcomed to the city with grime and damp cobblestone. I stick to the shadows of the dark alleys. It must have been walking to get here for a week or a month. I can't tell, but it must have been at least a week. The sun never rose during that time, so it was hard to tell time. On the outer rim, I caught the sign for the city.

"Welcome To The City of Resur."

My strength is depleted, and I can no longer hold my form. My body melts, and I've been reduced to a puddle behind a small restaurant that smells of salt and fragrant herbs—like the best scent after a long day of work—if that day were a week and work was fighting for survival.

Fun Fact:

I need food and water. Not as much as most other species. I can go months without food, but my mass does reduce. With how much I already have lost, I am STARVING. Hehe, i think I am close to death's door, and I fear death is coming for me.

My luck turns because I smell barbeque! In this alleyway, behind a restaurant, a delivery boy opens the back door. He is wearing a red shirt with short sleeves, barring the restaurant's name, "Birds Best BBQ." What caught my eye was his arm tattoo. It was of a rabbit eating a small flower on his forearm.

The delivery boy hops on his bike with a backpack strapped on. My form is still weak and liquid as my hold weakens. My mind focuses on reforming one arm, one little slithery arm. It doesn't need fingers or to look humanoid. A single tentacle is all I need. I form one, it's thin, and if I'm caught, he will probably stomp on me until I can't move. It has happened before, and fear is a powerful motivator. I slither a tendril into his backpack and remove one of the Togo orders.

I pride myself on my stealthiness. I only hit one trash can while taking out a styrofoam container and bringing the food back to me. His head whips around at the sudden noise. I see he has a circle tattoo or cursive lettering around his right eye. I mustered enough strength to pull out the performance of my life.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak. " Nailed it. I slept next to enough rats to know what they sounded like. My divine luck hits again, as there is at least something akin to rats on this asteroid. He shrugs and rides away.

I open the Togo order to find a mountain of noodles and a peeled, cooked insect the size of a fist. I slammed my face into the plate. The noodles dissolve as they float through my body. The bug lays in the center of my oval body for a while longer as it takes some time to chew. My chewing is different; it is more mashing all around the bug as it dissolves in my ooze. A conscious choice, that is. I can turn my dissolve feature on and off. I can dissolve anything, though it takes time, depending on what it is. My acidity is as strong as a human's stomach acid.

The bug taste spicy but tender. I hope I get a chance to try that, though the chances of me returning are slim to none. Once I regain my strength, I am on the first ticket off this rock and onto a brand-new planet. A place where I can settle down and relax for a while. After jumping from ship to ship, I want to park myself in a lovely city and do whatever a god is supposed to do. That's why I am opening a church and helping anyone I can. Yeah, that sounds peaceful.

My mind is lost in the thought of the small aced building with curious onlookers asking me for my sage wisdom when a daydream slips into a dream. I can feel the air shift around me, from cold to wet to scorching hot to cold again. This cycle continues throughout my dream.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I wake up from my little nap to see an old man riding a bike like the previous delivery boy. He is much older with greying hair. I believe the tattoos must be a part of the uniform as this man has the same two tattoos as the previous man. Maybe it's this wrinkled face man's attempt to connect to the youth around him or his way of clinging to any young energy he has left. Either way, I formed enough mass to assume my humanoid form and sprout my legs and arms. I stand m 7 feet tall. The negative is I am a giant orange NAKED glowing sign. I need to find clothes quick if there is any chance of blending in.

Stepping out of the alley, I see a small city buzzing with people. The architecture is like many rocks of the cosmic sea. The buildings are made from the wreckage of ships and previous towns. The quality of the build depends on the skill of the craftsman and their money. This city section was built by some talented, broke construction workers.

Where I stumbled in was the market section. Various restaurants and food stains stain the air with their delectable scents. Various fashion stores give it a touch of color, and the rest are par for par in other towns. You know, gift shops, weapon stores, adventuring supplies, monster parts, a candy shop, all the essentials for a long voyage.

Fun fact:

As a god, I don't condone stealing unless it's for survival. I punish those who take from the needy and allow those with no other options a chance for redemption. This is a cardinal rule of mine.

So I squeezed under the door gap into a clothes shop's back room and grabbed a few items—just a shirt and pants. I don't want anyone screaming at me for being a naked monster. Just being a monster is enough for me. I grabbed a navy Henley shirt and khaki cargo pants. I also grabbed a cross-body bag. I don't have anything to fill it yet, but I will.

I walked out of the store and received my usual strange glances. I hoped it was because I am a luminescent ooze and not because they wondered if I stepped out from the back or if my clothes were familiar. Once on the street, I heard the bustle of people walking by as they talked and focused on their own world, the sounds of a busker singing a song I'd never heard, and the screams of a kid charging at a grown man with a knife.

The boy's shout betrays his age. He looks around 10 but screams with decades' worth of pain. He had a brown mess of hair. His clothes were dirty but not disheveled. A few dirt stains on his blue blazer, blood stains on his black t-shirt, a rip around the knee of his navy-colored pants, and scuff marks on his sneakers.

He charges at a man that must be four times the boy's age. He has a red velvet coat, slicked-back hair, and a well-kept beard. The man sidesteps the kid with ease and knees him in the stomach. The kid drops the knife and flops onto his knees. Vomit rushes out his mouth, and he is left gasping for air. to his knees and vomits on the floor.

"Whoa, kid almost had me." The man chuckles, and the boy gasped for air. "I'll give you props, trying the MURDER me in broad daylight. I mean, I get it. I bet some people here wish they had your guts." The crowd, watching the event unfold, avoids the man's gaze as he says this.

The boy didn't hear a word as he was vomiting what little he had in his stomach. The man picks up the knife and holds it over the kid's bent head.

"I'll kill you." The kid lets out with his eyes locked into the man's. The heat of his rage radiated off his body.

"Big words, but I have the knife." The man says. "Want to play a game? I'm going to stab. Maybe I won't kill you, maybe I will. The question is, do you think anyone here will stop me? If someone does, you win, and I'll let you live. If they don't, I win, and I'll leave your body out here on the streets."

The knife is raised higher. I readied myself for the outcry of the people, a mad rush on the madman. I will join them; I can stretch my arm and grab his hand while the others tackle him. No one moved. People avert their gaze, grip on what they hold tight, eyes full of rage. Yet, no one moved. I see an officer in the crowd, and he lowers his eyes.

This man, whoever he is, everyone avoids his gaze; his actions are ignored. His words carry the shadow of his true command: "Do not interfere." Everyone here follows it with no hesitation. They will wake up regretting what they see, and parents cover the eyes of the children.

The blade lunges down.