For what felt like hours, Kagenashi drifted through the void, pulled gently by the glowing slime that had saved his life. The creature's soft light was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind in the endless darkness.
Stars passed by like distant memories. Nebulas swirled in colors he didn't have names for. And through it all, the little slime hummed—not with sound exactly, but with vibrations that somehow felt like contentment.
Kagenashi finally broke the silence. "Do you... understand me?"
The slime jiggled enthusiastically.
"Can you talk?"
The slime paused mid-float, as if considering the question. Then it pulsed once, twice, and suddenly—
"Well, technically yes, though it takes a bit of effort to adjust my vocal membranes to produce sounds compatible with your auditory range."
Kagenashi nearly choked on nothing. "You—you can TALK?!"
"Indeed!" the slime chirped, its voice oddly cheerful and slightly high-pitched, like someone who smiled while speaking. "Apologies for not introducing myself sooner. The void makes conversation difficult without a proper atmosphere to carry sound waves. But we're getting close now, so I thought it appropriate to engage in proper social protocols. My name is Gilbert!"
"Gilbert," Kagenashi repeated slowly, still trying to process that he was having a conversation with sentient jelly. "You're... really called Gilbert?"
"Gilbert the Magnificent, actually, but I don't insist on the full title during first meetings. It tends to make people uncomfortable." The slime—Gilbert—bobbed cheerfully. "And you are Kagenashi, yes? I heard them say your name before they cast you out."
Kagenashi's chest tightened at the memory. "You saw that?"
"I see many things that drift through the spaces between," Gilbert said, his tone softening slightly. "The void is full of forgotten things, Kagenashi. Forgotten people, forgotten worlds, forgotten dreams. But you're different. You're not forgotten—you were thrown away. There's a distinction."
"I don't know if that makes it better."
"Perhaps not," Gilbert admitted. "But at least being thrown away means someone knows you exist. That's a start."
Kagenashi wanted to argue, wanted to say that being acknowledged by people who hated him wasn't exactly comforting. But before he could respond, something changed in the darkness ahead.
A ripple.
Like someone had thrown a stone into perfectly still water, except the water was space itself.
"Ah!" Gilbert pulsed excitedly. "We're here!"
"Here? Here where?"
"Home, of course!"
The ripple expanded into a shimmering membrane—a translucent barrier that seemed to separate one part of space from another. Gilbert dove straight toward it, dragging Kagenashi along.
"Wait—what is that?! Gilbert, slow down—!"
But Gilbert didn't slow down. They hit the membrane at full speed.
For a fraction of a second, Kagenashi felt like he was being pulled through something thick and sticky, like diving through honey. His skin tingled. His vision blurred. Every cell in his body felt like it was being gently squeezed and then released.
And then—
Pop.
They emerged on the other side.
Kagenashi gasped.
Before him stretched an entire universe—but nothing like the one he'd been cast out from.
Instead of planets made of rock and metal, massive spheres of translucent, wobbling material floated through space. Some were pale blue, others shimmering gold, a few pulsing with soft pink light. They looked like enormous soap bubbles, except solid enough to hold entire cities within their gelatinous surfaces.
And moving between them—thousands, maybe millions of creatures.
All slimes.
Some were small like Gilbert, zipping through space in streaks of color. Others were massive, larger than buildings, drifting slowly like gentle giants. They came in every shade imaginable—crimson reds, deep purples, electric greens, warm ambers.
But the most shocking part?
They were changing.
As Kagenashi watched in stunned silence, one slime stretched and reformed itself into the shape of a bird, complete with wings and a beak, before launching itself toward a nearby bubble-planet. Another morphed into something resembling a fish, complete with fins that somehow propelled it through the vacuum of space.
"Welcome," Gilbert announced proudly, "to the Slime Dimension!"
Kagenashi couldn't form words. His mouth hung open.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Gilbert continued, clearly pleased with the reaction. "We're shapeshifters by nature. Fluid forms, infinite possibilities! Though I'll admit, most of us prefer simpler shapes. Less energy expenditure, you see."
"This is..." Kagenashi finally managed, "...impossible."
"Only if you're thinking within the physical laws of your original universe," Gilbert said matter-of-factly. "Here, matter behaves differently. We're not bound by rigid molecular structures. Much more convenient, really."
A group of slimes drifted past, and Kagenashi noticed they were... talking? Their bodies pulsed and shifted in rhythmic patterns, almost like a visual language.
"They're communicating," Kagenashi realized.
"Very perceptive! Yes, slimes can speak vocally like I'm doing now, but our natural language is more... interpretive. Colors, shapes, vibrations. It conveys emotion much more efficiently than words."
Gilbert pulled Kagenashi toward the nearest bubble-planet—a massive sphere that glowed with soft amber light. As they approached, Kagenashi could see structures within the translucent surface. Buildings, or at least slime-equivalent of buildings—sculpted spaces that formed and reformed as needed.
"Why did you bring me here?" Kagenashi asked quietly.
Gilbert's glow dimmed slightly, becoming more serious. "Because you needed somewhere to go. And because..." He hesitated. "Because I've been alone in the void for a very long time, Kagenashi. Watching. Waiting. When I saw you floating there, so lost and hurt, I thought... perhaps we could both use some company."
Something in Kagenashi's chest ached at those words. "You were alone?"
"Exiled," Gilbert said simply. "Different circumstances than yours, but the result was the same. The void isn't kind to those who don't belong anywhere else."
"Then why go back?" Kagenashi gestured at the thriving dimension around them. "If they exiled you—"
"Oh, I wasn't exiled from here," Gilbert corrected quickly. "I was exiled from a different place entirely. But the Slime Dimension is welcoming to outsiders. Always has been. It's one of our better qualities, I think."
They passed through the bubble-planet's membrane—another strange, tingly sensation—and suddenly Kagenashi could breathe normally again. Atmosphere. Gravity, even, though it felt lighter than what he was used to.
His feet touched something soft but stable. The ground was made of the same translucent material as everything else, slightly bouncy beneath his steps.
Slimes of all sizes moved around him, going about their daily lives. Some were working—manipulating materials, constructing things that defied normal physics. Others seemed to be simply existing, pulsing contentedly in small groups.
A few turned to look at Kagenashi as he passed.
Their attention felt different than the stares from the council. Curious, yes. But not hostile. Not afraid.
Just... interested.
"They don't see many solid-forms here," Gilbert explained. "Beings with fixed shapes, I mean. You're a bit of a novelty."
"Great," Kagenashi muttered. "First I'm too dangerous to exist, now I'm a curiosity."
"I'd argue curiosity is significantly better than persecution."
Kagenashi couldn't disagree with that logic.
Gilbert led him through winding paths that seemed to form and reshape based on where people needed to walk. Buildings pulsed and shifted, doorways appearing and disappearing as needed. It was beautiful in a strange, unsettling way—a world that never stopped moving, never locked into one permanent form.
"Where are we going?" Kagenashi asked.
"To see someone who might be able to help you," Gilbert said. "A scholar. He studies beings from other dimensions—their biology, their abilities, their histories. If anyone can tell you more about your bloodline, it would be him."
Kagenashi's stomach twisted. "I don't know if I want to know."
"Perhaps not," Gilbert said gently. "But understanding what you are might be the first step in deciding who you want to be."
They approached a structure larger than the others—a dome that pulsed with deep violet light. Strange symbols floated across its surface, appearing and disappearing like thoughts made visible.
"Here we are," Gilbert announced. "The research facility of—"
"GILBERT!"
The voice came from everywhere at once—booming, excited, slightly unhinged.
A massive slime burst through the dome's membrane, shapeshifting rapidly between different forms—first a giant hand, then a cluster of eyes, then something resembling a many-armed creature from nightmares.
"GILBERT, YOU MAGNIFICENT BLOB, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!"
Gilbert sighed. "Hello, Cornelius."
The massive slime finally settled into a vaguely humanoid shape—two arms, two legs, a head with far too many eyes scattered across it. He rushed toward them, his gelatinous body jiggling with each step.
"I've been waiting for weeks! You said you'd bring me samples from the Outer Void, and I've been absolutely dying to—" Cornelius froze mid-sentence, all his eyes suddenly focusing on Kagenashi. "Is that... is that a SOLID-FORM?"
"Yes," Gilbert said carefully. "Cornelius, this is—"
"A PERFECT SPECIMEN!"
Before Kagenashi could react, Cornelius lunged forward, his body stretching impossibly fast. Gelatinous tendrils wrapped around Kagenashi's arms, lifting him off the ground.
"Wait—what are you—?!"
"Cornelius, put him down!" Gilbert shouted.
"Just a moment, just a moment! I need to examine—oh! Oh my! What extraordinary cellular structure! And this DNA composition—so rigid, so FIXED! Fascinating!" Cornelius's eyes multiplied, growing across his body like excited thoughts. "Tell me, solid-form, what dimension are you from? How do you maintain cohesion without constant reformation? Do you experience pain when damaged? How do you reproduce?!"
"CORNELIUS!" Gilbert slammed into the larger slime, knocking Kagenashi free.
Kagenashi hit the bouncy ground hard, rolling several feet before coming to a stop. His heart hammered in his chest.
"Apologies, apologies!" Cornelius said, though he didn't sound particularly sorry. "I get excited. It's a flaw, I know. But you must understand—I so rarely get to study beings from outside our dimension! And this one—" His eyes fixed on Kagenashi again, gleaming with manic curiosity. "This one is special. I can sense it. There's something in his genetic code... something ancient."
Kagenashi scrambled backward. "Stay away from me."
"Oh, don't be frightened! I'm a scientist, not a monster. Well, depending on how you define monster, I suppose, but that's a philosophical debate for another time." Cornelius leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell me, young solid-form... have you heard of the Overlord?"
Kagenashi's blood went cold. "What?"
Cornelius's many eyes widened in delight. "You HAVE! Oh, splendid! Then you know the legends, yes? The being of unimaginable power who nearly conquered multiple dimensions before mysteriously vanishing? The one whose bloodline was said to carry the potential for reality-warping abilities?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Kagenashi said quickly, though his voice betrayed him.
"Liar!" Cornelius sang cheerfully. "Your biometric readings just spiked! Elevated heart rate, increased perspiration, dilated pupils—all signs of recognition and fear! You DO know something!"
Gilbert stepped between them, his small body somehow commanding. "Cornelius, you're scaring him."
"Am I? Oh. Well, that's not helpful." Cornelius pulled back slightly, his form shrinking a bit. "Perhaps I should explain. You see, young solid-form, I belong to a rather exclusive organization. A gathering of scholars and believers who have spent centuries researching the Overlord's disappearance. We call ourselves—"
"The Cult of Montaro," a new voice interrupted.
Everyone turned.
A figure emerged from the dome's entrance—another slime, but this one had shaped itself into an almost perfect humanoid form, smooth and featureless except for a single eye in the center of its face. It wore what looked like robes made of its own membrane, flowing and elegant.
"Brother Cornelius," the figure said calmly, "you're being indiscreet again."
"Brother Thessian!" Cornelius seemed to shrink even more, like a child caught misbehaving. "I was merely conducting preliminary research—"
"You were revealing our purpose to an outsider without proper clearance." Thessian's single eye fixed on Kagenashi. "Though I suppose it doesn't matter now. The boy already knows too much."
"Wait," Kagenashi said, backing away. "I don't know anything. I don't even know who this Overlord is—"
"Don't you?" Thessian tilted his head, the movement unsettlingly smooth. "Your council certainly seemed to know. They cast you out because of your bloodline. Because of what you might become. Because you carry the genetic legacy of Montaro—the Overlord who once ruled seventeen dimensions before his mysterious disappearance."
Kagenashi's legs felt weak. "That's impossible. My great-grandfather was—"
"Montaro," Thessian finished. "Yes. We know."
The world seemed to tilt beneath Kagenashi's feet.
His great-grandfather. The Overlord. A tyrant who conquered dimensions.
That's why the council feared him. That's why they called his bloodline cursed. That's why they didn't hesitate to throw him away like garbage.
"We've been searching for you for a very long time," Thessian continued, moving closer. "The last living descendant of Montaro. The final piece we need."
"Need for what?" Gilbert demanded, positioning himself protectively in front of Kagenashi.
Thessian smiled—or at least, his membrane rippled in a way that suggested a smile. "To bring him back, of course. To resurrect the Overlord and restore him to his rightful place as ruler of all dimensions."
"That's insane," Kagenashi breathed.
"Is it?" Thessian spread his arms wide. "Your great-grandfather was a visionary. A being who understood that dimensions should be unified, not fractured. Under his rule, there was order. Purpose. And then he was betrayed—murdered by cowards who feared his power. But death is not permanent for those who plan ahead. Montaro encoded his consciousness into his bloodline, scattered across generations, waiting for the perfect descendant to emerge. Waiting for you."
"I'm not—I'm not doing whatever you think—"
"You don't have a choice," Thessian said simply.
Before anyone could react, the ground beneath Kagenashi's feet suddenly liquified. He sank instantly, the translucent material wrapping around him like quicksand.
"NO!" Gilbert lunged forward, but Cornelius blocked him, his massive form creating an impenetrable barrier.
"Sorry, old friend," Cornelius said, and he actually did sound apologetic. "But this is bigger than personal feelings. The Cult of Montaro has worked for centuries toward this moment. We can't let sentiment interfere."
Kagenashi thrashed, trying to escape, but the gelatinous substance held him firm. It pulled him down, down, through the floor of the structure and into darkness below.
The last thing he heard was Gilbert's voice, desperate and furious:
"I'LL FIND YOU! KAGENASHI, I'LL FIND YOU!"
And then—silence.
Kagenashi tumbled through complete darkness, the gelatinous substance releasing him suddenly. He hit solid ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs.
When he finally managed to look up, he found himself in a massive underground chamber. Strange equipment lined the walls—machines that pulsed and shifted, mixing solid technology with fluid, organic components. Tubes filled with glowing liquids. Containers holding specimens he couldn't identify.
And at the center of it all, a single platform.
On that platform, a massive crystalline structure pulsed with dark energy. Inside the crystal, barely visible, something moved. Something that looked almost humanoid but wrong—too many angles, too much power contained in one form.
Thessian materialized beside him, having flowed through the floor like water.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said quietly. "The resurrection chamber. We've spent three hundred years building it. All we were missing was the final component. The genetic key that will unlock Montaro's consciousness and give him a new body to inhabit."
Kagenashi's stomach dropped. "You want to put him inside me."
"Not inside you," Thessian corrected. "You ARE him. Your body, your DNA—it's all been shaped across generations to be the perfect vessel. Once we extract and activate the dormant code, Montaro will awaken. And you..." He paused. "Well. You'll finally serve the purpose you were always meant for."
Mechanical arms emerged from the walls, reaching for Kagenashi with precise, terrifying intent.
He tried to run, but his legs wouldn't move. Some kind of paralysis was spreading through his body—something Thessian must have injected when he grabbed him.
"Don't worry," Thessian said, his voice eerily gentle. "It won't hurt. You'll simply... cease to be yourself. And someone infinitely greater will take your place."
The machines drew closer.
Kagenashi wanted to scream, wanted to fight, wanted to do anything.
But his body wouldn't respond.
All he could do was watch as the cult prepared to erase him completely—not just from one universe, but from existence itself.
And deep in the crystal, the thing that was his great-grandfather stirred, sensing the bloodline it had waited centuries to reclaim.