A gentle cold lingered in the air within the lush cavern, carrying with it the scent of damp soil and living greenery. Small droplets of water gathered at the tips of broad leaf blades before falling softly onto the foliage below. Each drop disturbed the delicate yellow flowers blooming across the cavern floor, their thin petals trembling at even the lightest touch.

  Haruna's eyes snapped open.

  Glimmering aqua irises reflected the dim green glow above her. Instead of a sky, she found herself staring at a ceiling woven from roots, moss, and faintly luminescent vines that pulsed with quiet life.

  For a moment, she did not move.

  She did not breathe.

  She simply felt.

  Comfort.

  That was the first sensation that reached her awareness. Not pain. Not suffocation. Not the violent tearing of flesh she had grown accustomed to.

  Warmth.

  A deep, enveloping warmth that held her body as though the cavern itself had decided to cradle her.

  Her fingers curled slightly against the bed of plants beneath her. The surface was soft yet springy, alive but obedient, supporting her weight without resistance.

  Slowly, with faint stiffness in her limbs, she pushed herself upright.

  Leaves shifted beneath her. Vines slithered aside instinctively, making space as if they recognized her presence.

  Her mind stirred.

  Fragments surfaced.

  A classroom filled with human voices.

  Bright white lights without flame.

  Glass towers piercing the sky.

  A rooftop overlooking an endless city.

  And Hana.

  The memory flickered through her like sunlight through fractured glass.

  At first, she wondered if it had been a dream born from pain and fading consciousness.

  But no.

  It was too vivid.

  Too detailed.

  Too real.

  That world had existed.

  She had stood there.

  She had breathed its air.

  She had seen a civilization unlike anything in her own world—widespread, advanced, dominant.

  And peaceful.

  That was the part that lingered in her chest.

  No one there fought simply to survive.

  No desperate hunger.

  No blood-soaked hierarchy.

  The humans in that world moved with purpose that was not rooted in fear. They studied. They talked. They laughed.

  They lived.

  That small glimpse had ignited something unfamiliar inside her.

  Something fragile.

  Something beautiful.

  Her lips parted slightly.

  It wasn't a dream.

  She remembered.

  She met Hana.

  And she had called her—

  "Haruna…"

  The name slipped from her tongue in a soft whisper.

  It felt… confronting.

  Heavy in a way she did not understand.

  The sound resembled her master's own name.

  Haruto.

  So similar.

  Too similar to be coincidence.

  If he had chosen a name that mirrored his own…

  Did that mean she was not just a subordinate?

  Not merely a tool?

  Her brows knit faintly.

  Did he see her as something closer?

  Someone worth naming after himself?

  Perhaps Hana had been right.

  Perhaps he saw in her the fragment of himself he had lost long ago.

  And perhaps—

  He wished to protect it.

  Her hand rose slowly, pressing against her chest.

  She felt the steady rhythm beneath her palm.

  A heartbeat.

  Ever since she had gained consciousness in this world, she had never once felt gratitude for her own survival.

  Survival was expected.

  Necessary.

  Instinct.

  Was it loyalty to Lord Charybdis and his bloodline that anchored her here?

  Or was it something deeper, something that had grown quietly without her realizing?

  She did not know.

  She did not question it.

  Instead, she allowed herself to indulge in the warmth spreading through her chest.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  It felt selfish.

  Greedy.

  But undeniably justified.

  For once, she wanted to live.

  Not because she must.

  But because she wished to.

  Then—

  Her fingers stilled.

  The sensation beneath her palm changed.

  Something soft.

  Something… elastic.

  Her eyes lowered slowly.

  And widened.

  Her body—

  Had changed.

  She was taller.

  Her limbs longer, her shoulders broader. The lean sharpness of a goblin warrior had been replaced with a more defined musculature, streamlined and powerful.

  But that was not what stole her breath.

  Across her chest, radiating outward from the place she had once been stabbed, were intricate, jagged patterns.

  Not scars.

  Cracks.

  As if her body had once shattered and been pieced back together.

  Within those glowing fissures pulsed a translucent substance.

  Slime.

  The color was unmistakable.

  A soft hue she had seen before.

  The same as Hana.

  Understanding struck her in silence.

  This was not simple healing.

  This was merging.

  Hana had not merely saved her.

  She had integrated herself into her.

  Haruna closed her eyes briefly.

  She could feel it now.

  Not foreign.

  Not invasive.

  Integrated.

  Her organs no longer pulsed with purely biological rhythm. They moved with a smoother, fluid consistency.

  Her heart beat not just to circulate blood—

  —but to circulate energy.

  Her lungs expanded, not solely for air—

  —but to draw in ambient Astrons.

  Her bones and muscles felt denser, reinforced from within, as though her body had rewritten its own structural integrity.

  She was no longer a mere goblin.

  She was something altered.

  Something new.

  A hybrid existence.

  Her entire being had been reconstructed at the cellular level.

  Not devoured.

  Not replaced.

  Rewritten.

  And beyond the physical transformation—

  There was something else.

  Something even more precious.

  She had been given a name.

  Not a title.

  Not a designation.

  A name.

  A symbol that acknowledged her existence as an individual.

  Haruna.

  The cavern felt quieter as she absorbed that reality.

  For the first time in her life, she felt as though the world itself had looked upon her and deemed her worthy of recognition.

  Not as a servant.

  Not as a weapon.

  But as someone.

  A faint smile curved along her lips—small, hesitant, but real.

  Both hands pressed gently against her chest.

  She could feel it clearly now.

  The warmth.

  The resonance.

  The heartbeat gifted to her by two wills that had chosen to protect her.

  It was steady.

  Grounded.

  Alive.

  For the first time—

  She did not feel like a creature fighting to survive in a hostile world.

  She felt like she belonged.

  Family.

  Just as the warmth in her chest began to settle—

  A familiar voice cut through the cavern.

  "You're awake? How do you feel?"

  Haruna turned her head.

  From one of the tunnels branching off the cavern chamber, Hana emerged, her translucent body shifting fluidly as she stepped into the dim green light.

  "…Sorry. I had to go scouting," Hana added with a casual shrug as she approached. "Someone in this team has to be responsible."

  Haruna remained silent.

  Not because she had nothing to say—

  But because too many things pressed against her thoughts at once.

  Hana stopped in front of her, studying her face for a brief moment. Then, without warning, she hopped lightly onto Haruna's lap, her body reforming into a more compact shape.

  "You should rest a little longer," she said. "We'll have to walk for quite a while once we start moving. I went for about an hour and still didn't reach the end of that tunnel. This place is massive. We're going to need proper mapping… and a good memory."

  Haruna lowered her gaze.

  Without thinking, she placed a hand on Hana's shoulder.

  The texture—

  Soft.

  Elastic.

  Familiar.

  Her fingers pressed lightly.

  Then again.

  A small, curious poke.

  Her expression shifted into something uncharacteristically childlike, eyes faintly bright with fascination as she gently prodded the slime.

  "H-hey…" Hana hissed, her surface rippling.

  Haruna froze instantly.

  "I—"

  "Don't apologize!" Hana snapped quickly. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

  Haruna blinked.

  Then nodded slowly.

  Somehow…

  She felt closer to her than before.

  Was it because part of Hana's body now existed within her?

  Because their cells had intertwined?

  Maybe.

  Or maybe it was something less biological.

  "Miss—Hana," Haruna began, correcting herself mid-syllable. "Do you… remember what you said to me… in that strange place?"

  Her voice sounded different to her own ears.

  Softer.

  Less rigid.

  Hana looked up at her, slightly puzzled. "Hmm? What strange place?"

  Haruna hesitated only briefly before continuing.

  "The human civilization," she said. "We were standing on top of a building. Everything around us was… enormous. Structures made of glass. And metal carriages that moved without beasts pulling them."

  Hana's expression shifted.

  Wait… That sounds like—

  Haruna continued, words spilling more quickly now.

  "I woke up inside a chamber surrounded on all sides. The walls were made of glass that showed the outside. Many people were gathered there. I was wearing the same outfit you were wearing. And many others wore it too. As if they were soldiers."

  Her fingers tightened slightly in Hana's surface.

  "I was afraid. So I ran. And then I met you at the top of the staircase. You told me my name was Haruna and… and…"

  Her voice faltered.

  "And what?" Hana asked carefully.

  Haruna looked away, faint color rising to her cheeks.

  "Was it all… not real?"

  She knew there had been truth in what she saw.

  But voicing it aloud felt… strangely intimate.

  Hana exhaled softly.

  "You know," she began, her tone losing its usual playfulness, "that might be my fault."

  Haruna looked down at her in confusion.

  "The only way I knew to save you was through cell implantation," Hana explained. "I didn't fully understand the technique. We didn't have time to test alternatives. I just… did it."

  She paused briefly.

  "There are risks. One of them is memory overlap."

  Haruna listened intently.

  "That usually happens when brain tissue is involved," Hana continued. "But since I'm a slime… my entire body kind of functions as a brain."

  Understanding slowly dawned.

  "But… doesn't that mean what I saw was one of your memories?" Haruna asked.

  Hana went quiet for a moment, thinking.

  "You said you saw me. And you were there too, right?" she replied. "That never actually happened. So it's likely our memories overlapped and merged. Yours and mine combined. Creating something in between."

  Her voice lowered slightly.

  "You were dragged into that space because of it."

  Silence lingered.

  Then Hana asked quietly,

  "What did I say?"

  Haruna hesitated.

  It felt… inappropriate to repeat it.

  Like revealing something personal that was not meant for her current self.

  But she answered anyway.

  "You—or she—said that Lord Haruto and I were… relatable."

  She swallowed softly.

  "That he sees me as a part of himself he had lost."

  Her gaze lowered.

  "I didn't understand what it meant."

  "It's true."

  Hana's interruption was immediate.

  Haruna looked up in surprise.

  Hana's expression was calm.

  Casual.

  But sincere.

  "You two are similar," she said. "Very similar. I think he sees that too. That's probably why he cares about you despite the fact that you're technically strangers."

  She tilted her head slightly.

  "People naturally gravitate toward what feels familiar. It's instinct."

  Haruna fell silent.

  It was nearly identical to what she had heard before.

  So was it truly just memory overlap?

  Or—

  Was something else nudging her toward understanding?

  Was the part of Hana fused within her guiding her intentionally?

  The thought lingered.

  But she pushed it aside.

  That could be a problem for the future.

  Right now—

  They needed to escape the labyrinth.

  They had already lost enough time because of her injury.

  "Hana," she said.

  The name slipped out naturally.

  She blinked. "Sorry—I meant—"

  "Just Hana is fine," Hana replied lightly. "We're friends now, remember?"

  Before Haruna could respond, Hana hopped off her lap and landed atop her head, settling comfortably like a living ornament.

  Looking down at her from above, Hana added,

  "Let me guess. You want to find Haruto and get out of here."

  Haruna nodded quietly.

  "He's probably nearby," Hana continued. "All bark, no bite. I bet he's just punching a wall somewhere out of frustration."

  Haruna turned toward the tunnels branching from the chamber.

  One was the path they had entered from.

  Another had already been explored by Hana.

  That left only one remaining route.

  Haruto's likely path.

  She stood, adjusting to her increased height and strengthened frame. The movement felt unfamiliar, yet stable.

  With Hana perched atop her head, she stepped toward the remaining tunnel.

  Then—

  "Ah… You're awake."

  The voice echoed from the darkness ahead.

  Footsteps followed.

  A figure emerged from the tunnel's shadow.

  Haruto stepped into the dim cavern light, tall moss brushing against his legs as he moved forward. The familiar mask—Haruki—rested over his face, its presence oddly comforting and unsettling at once.

  Haruna's eyes widened.

  Then lit up.

  Without hesitation—

  She rushed forward.

  Her arms wrapped tightly around him before he could react.

  Both Haruto and Hana froze.

  Haruna buried her face against his chest, gripping him firmly as if confirming he was truly there.

  The warmth.

  The solidity.

  Real.

  Haruto stiffened, utterly caught off guard.

  "H-Hey—?!" he muttered, face heating beneath the mask.

  Hana stared down at him from atop Haruna's head with what could only be described as an imaginary daggered glare.

  Left with no options, Haruto awkwardly returned the embrace.

  Haruna tightened her hold slightly, breathing in slowly as if anchoring herself.

  "Hey! Do something!" he whispered toward Hana, desperate.

  Hana turned her head dramatically, pretending to inspect the cavern wall.

  "I see nothing."

  From within the mask, Haruki giggled, clearly enjoying herself.

  "Oh, this is gold…"

  Haruto sighed internally.

  "What did I drag myself into…"

  His hand lifted hesitantly.

  Then, gently—

  He placed it on Haruna's head.

  Brushing through her hair.

  "…Don't turn this into a habit, okay?" he murmured quietly.

  And despite the embarrassment flooding his veins—

  He didn't pull away.

  ---

  ---

  ...