THE FIRST STEP

The forest hummed with life around her: birds chirped overhead, insects buzzed in the undergrowth, and the faint rustle of leaves betrayed the movement of unseen animals. It was so alive, at least, compared to the ruins of Brockton Bay.

Taylor stared—or at least, she thought she stared—at her own form. A gelatinous mass, faintly translucent, with no discernible limbs or face. Her mind churned as she processed what had happened. She was dead—or, she was supposed to be. Her last memories were of blood, pain, and the jagged edge of rebar. And yet, here she was.

She focused inward, trying to piece herself together. The confirmation messages still echoed in her mind, a disembodied voice rattling off skills and abilities like some kind of RPG. Temperature resistance, pain nullification, piercing resistance… Swarm Sovereign.

“Swarm Sovereign,” she thought, the familiarity of the name stirring something deep within her. Was this some remnant of her power? Had it survived her death? Or was this something else entirely?

Her body shifted instinctively, rippling slightly as she tried to move. It was a strange sensation, like trying to crawl without muscles or bones. She stretched forward, her mass sliding over the forest floor, sticky and clumsy at first.

“This… is going to take some getting used to.”

It wasn’t long before she encountered her first obstacle—a small rock, jagged and half-buried in the dirt. She tried to push it with what she thought was her “edge,” but her body merely folded around it. Frustrated, she concentrated harder, willing herself to envelop the rock.

To her surprise, the rock dissolved into her form. She felt a faint sensation, like a spark in her core, and then a new message appeared in her mind.

Absorption successful. Material properties: Increased density detected. Minor durability enhancement achieved.

The disembodied voice intruded into her thoughts again. She still wasn’t sure what it was—part of her powers? Some external force? A hallucination? Regardless, it provided clarity in a situation that felt overwhelming.

“Right,” she thought, her mind racing. “I can absorb things. Grow. Adapt.”

She flexed her form experimentally. A tendril of translucent slime extended outward, wrapping itself around a nearby twig. The twig dissolved into her mass with an almost instinctive ease, leaving behind no trace except a faint texture that lingered in her awareness.

Confirmed. Absorption successful. Material properties: None notable. Minor mass increase achieved.

Her body trembled as she turned her attention to the ground around her. Rocks, leaves—all of it was material.

She tried another stone, this one jagged and sharp. As it disappeared, she felt her edges harden slightly, the faint sensation of toughness radiating through her form.

Confirmed. Absorption successful. Material properties: Abrasion resistance detected. Minor sharpness adaptation achieved.

But it wasn’t enough. She needed to understand more.

A new idea struck her as she turned her attention to a small beetle scuttling across a nearby leaf, the creature freezing as her tendril enveloped it. For a moment, she hesitated. Was this wrong? The thought of killing—even a small creature—made her stomach churn. But then again, did she even have a stomach?

She thought of the Empire Eighty-Eight. Of the Nine. Of everything she’d already lost. Survival was paramount now. She reminded herself that she was surviving now, not living.

The beetle dissolved, its essence flowing into her like the other rock before it. But this time, the result was different. A faint sense of awareness sharpened in her mind, her senses expanding outward.

Absorption successful. Biological properties: Exoskeleton traits partially integrated. Enhanced durability achieved. New skill acquired: Minor Environmental Sensing.

Her surroundings sharpened immediately. The details of the forest became clearer, the scents richer, the sounds crisper. She could hear the faint rustling of leaves overhead and the distant hum of insects. It was overwhelming, but it also made her feel… alive, in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Her slime body pulsed with satisfaction as she absorbed more materials, experimenting with small stones, sticks, and insects. With each new addition, she felt herself grow stronger—not just physically, but in confidence.

But with that confidence came unease.

“Is this still me?” she wondered, watching as a piece of bark dissolved into her. “I don’t have a body. I don’t even have blood anymore. Am I still Taylor?”

The thought of her father, his face, lined with worry, flickered in her mind, unbidden. He’d already lost so much—his wife, his city. What would he think if he saw her now? Did he even know she was gone? Had anyone found her body, broken and bloodied beneath the rubble?

And what about the Undersiders? Grue, Tattletale, Bitch, Regent—had they survived the fight with the Nine? Would they carry on without her?

She quivered, her edges rippling with an emotion she couldn’t quite name.

“If I go back,” she thought, “what would they even say? Would they recognize me? Would they want to?”

The questions haunted her as she moved, her gelatinous body flowing across the forest floor. Moving was strange but intuitive; she discovered she could stretch and contract, almost like a slug, pulling herself forward in small bursts.

After what felt like hours of experimentation, she reached a shallow stream. The water reflected her form back at her—a faintly shimmering, translucent blob. No eyes. No mouth. No face.

Her father’s face flashed in her mind again, but this time, she shook it off.

“I’m still me,” she told herself, though the words rang hollow. “I’m Taylor. I have to be.”

The water rippled as she stretched a tendril toward it. The liquid merged with her form, and for a brief moment, she felt cool and clear.

Absorption successful. Material properties: Hydration achieved. Enhanced flexibility detected.

She could adapt. She could survive. But was that enough?

The forest hummed around her, a stark contrast to the chaos of Brockton Bay. For now, she was safe, but the thought of her old life lingered like a bad itch.

Was she a girl who had become a slime? Or a slime that still remembered being a girl?

Taylor didn’t know.

But she intended to find out.