El Presidente

POV: Joseph Sullivan, Muscle Mage

"Uhhh… what the hell?" I mumble.

I've seen some things on the other sides of the Gates. Gluttony-fueled goblinoids, flying eyeballs… Even a naked sasquatch's dong.

But this?

This is something else entirely.

The cavern has turned into a gelatinous rave hosted by a committee of malfunctioning Roombas. Slimes are flailing, convulsing, stretching into very weird shapes. One of them is just… spinning in place while vibrating. Another has somehow given itself a wig, formed from the ooze of its own body. And the two in the corner over there. Are they… making out?

"Bro." I blink slowly. "You don't even have lips."

Jelly Boy is still in that cage in front of the throne, but his gooey little body is pulsing with pride. Like he just farted in church and everyone's pretending it's a divine miracle. The smug bastard.

And the corpse floating inside King Slime? It's not doing so hot.

It thrashes around like a muppet mid-exorcism, spasming and twitching and foaming something foul and inky black into the surrounding goo. Then, the body flails upright and wails, "I see too much! So many confessionals! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY CONFESSIONALS?!"

The chaos throughout the cavern builds to a screaming crescendo—an orchestra of buzzing, gurgling, self-inflicted trauma—and then, just as suddenly, everything stops. The entire cave is dead silent.

Slimes freeze. Shapes hold. Colors dull.

Jelly Boy doesn't move, though I swear one of his dark, round eyes winks at me.

Then, the corpse on the throne speaks. When it does, I would have leapt back startled. Luckily, I was still locked in my gooey prison from my shoulders down.

"Enough," says a voice that isn't a voice so much as a vibrational pressure wave. It hits my brain like a thousand synthesizers detuning at once. Every slime quivers in sync. Even the surface of Jelly Boy's body ripples like the surface of a lake after you throw a rock in it.

The gigantic slime's corpse puppet hangs limp now, floating like a shrimp tail in a jello mold. Gradually, the body's chin rises. The blue fire of power burns within its sockets as it addresses the room.

"We will let the Hive decide," the vibrating choir announces, voice somehow made of textures more than sounds. "There will be two polls."

What? Did he just say… Polls?

"The slime with the least votes… will be dumped by the Hive."

Okay. Dumped?... Is it supposed to sound that ominous?

"The slime with the most votes… will become the new leader of the Hive."

Around me, the slimes begin trembling, not in fear like a pack of terrified dogs, but in a unified frequency. Each one starts vibrating at a slightly different pitch and then they each begin to oscillate like miniature radio waves. It's like they're campaigning now. One throws out a pseudopod and forms a tiny, faintly glowing top hat made of ooze. Another starts… voguing? I think that's what it's called. A third begins emitting a looped, high-pitched noise that sounds eerily like "yaaas."

My brain is melting. Did some of the ooze infect my brain? Am I having a stroke?

Somewhere in the distance, I swear I hear an ethereal voice whisper, "Bring back my Slimes…"

And Jelly Boy? He's just sitting there in his cage, eyes squinted in a smile. He's absolutely glowing. Like he knew this would happen all along, I think.

Like this isn't just a plan he concocted after being abducted. Like it was a long term strategy he had formed that was finally playing out.

My mind wanders back to our campsites up the mountain. Of the slime residue I noticed surrounding our camp in the mornings. How long were these slimes following us?

And why did they wait so long to finally make their move on Jelly Boy.

I didn't have any of the answers, but I was reassured by Jelly Boy's calm presence in the middle of the slimy storm of chaos unfolding around him.

The cavern goes dead silent again. This time, however, the air is thick with anticipation. The silence presses on my skull like I've just dropped underwater, or into another plane of existence entirely.

Then, at the center of the world-sized jello mold, the puppet corpse stirs. Its jaw creaks open with a sound like a coffin lid slamming shut in reverse.

"The Hive has decided…" comes the voice, dripping with resigned gravitas. "I, King Slime, have been dumped from the Hive. I have thirty minutes to pack my bags and say goodbye…"

He pauses, and I swear I hear a choked gurgle catch in the corpse's throat. It mutters something, then makes a sharp sound, like someone on the verge of tears.

"However, in a show of mercy… the newly elected leader and bombshell of the Hive has allowed me to remain as part of the collective. I show my appreciation to our new leader."

The throne-slime shudders with a kind of formal dignity, and then—like an ancient trumpet announcing the rise of a dictator—it declares:

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"ALL HAIL PRESIDENT JELLY BOY!"

The slimes around me erupt in a ripple of oozy applause. Some bounce. Some wobble. One just… jello-twerks? Not sure how I should describe that motion. The spell of terror breaks all at once and the slimes that had been restraining me start to slough off my limbs like melting peanut butter.

I collapse forward, inhale, and bolt forward. I sprint toward Jelly Boy—my little blue bastard savior—light spell bobbing behind me like a confused firefly.

Jelly Boy is still radiating smugness. The three humanoid slimes that had brought him in are now unhooking the cage, opening it up with what I swear is respectful choreography.

"Jelly!" I shout, skidding to my knees in front of his cage's now open door. "Dude. You did it! You're like… you're god-king of the Slimes, or something."

He gives a low hum—thrummm—that vibrates through the stone under my feet. It's an affirmative.

I freeze.

"Does this mean… you control all of them now?"

Jelly Boy vibrates again. Stronger this time.

Yep. That's definitely a yes. My spine prickles at the consequences of what I just witnessed.

Right on cue, I receive the soft ping of a System notification, accompanied by the gentle pulsing sensation deep within my mind.

Ally: Jelly Boy, Slime has received a new Title.

Jelly Boy is now…

President Jelly Boy, Elected Leader of the Cerulean Ooze Hivemind

"Oh god," I whisper. "This is real. You command an army. An actual slime army."

The thought of Jelly Boy with real power fills me with the same mix of excitement and nausea I felt the first time I handed my younger sister my Gameboy and said, "Your turn." That Summer she had released all of my hard-leveled Pokemon into the wild. I've never truly forgiven her for that.

Behind us, the puppet corpse wheezes again. "President Jelly Boy… what are your orders?"

Jelly Boy warbles something in return—a kind of squelchy, reverberating pulse. I solemnly nod, as if I have any idea what he's communicating to the former King Slime.

The puppeted corpse nods, grim and proud. "Yes. We can lead you through the tunnels back to the surface. Please… take the former royal Hive guard with you."

The three humanoid-shaped slimes step forward in unison. They're about four and a half feet tall, each looking like a half-melted human-shaped gummy bear. No faces, no features. Just soft, wobbling outlines with posture. They radiate the awkward energy of a boy band mid-choreography as they stumble into a somewhat-straight line before us.

"Their names," King Slime intones solemnly, "have been dubbed by President Jelly Boy himself. Tom, Jax, and Tom."

I blink. "Err… There's two Toms."

"Of course there are," says King Slime, his voice vibrating with deadpan horror. "Why wouldn't there be?"

I look to Jelly Boy.

He pulses.

And somehow, that pulse says, Don't question the vision, Joseph.

I sigh. Right.

Ping!

Another notification springs to life in my System's interface.

Slime Tamer (Beginner) upgraded to Slime Tamer (Advanced)!

ABILITY: Slime Tamer (Advanced)

[Description: Due to your bonds with powerful Slimes, you have the innate ability to befriend oozes. While this Ability is equipped, all Oozes with a Level lower to 1.75 times your own Level will be friendly to you and will be unable to deal physical damage to you.]

I squint as I scan the description of my new ability.

"Sick," I whisper. This is a huge jump in power for the Ability.

I examine Tom, Jax and Tom.

Identified: Tom – Sworn Slime Guard, Level 18 Ooze

Identified: Tom – Sworn Slime Guard, Level 18 Ooze

Identified: Jax – Sworn Slime Guard, Level 20 Ooze

These guys will definitely make handling any mobs we run into on the way to the Gobblin Factory a whole lot easier. My mind immediately starts formulating how the party can implement the three slimes into our strategies. Especially with Jelly Boy's Skills.

I shake the thought away. Now's not the time. But then there's a flicker of temptation in my head. King Slime was definitely a sapient monster, who likely has a decent sized pool of Mana. The sweet, sweet allure of my Pact Spell creeps in. What kind of Spell would I receive from doing the Pact with that thing?

But I look at my Stamina bar. It's lower than ideal. Even after I take my remaining Stamina Potions, it may not be topped off for purposes of fueling the pact's magic. And even if they were? Should I be depleting myself entirely? When we needed to reunite with the others?

Probably not, dummy, I tell myself. Jelly Boy burps at me. I look down at the slime, meeting his adorable glistening eyes. They tell me: 'This is my empire. You can harvest pact magic spells when we return to claim what is mine.' Or maybe that's just my own selfish thoughts intruding.

I sigh and turn back to the throne.

"Guess this is goodbye," I tell the floating corpse, giving a salute that's only halfway ironic.

The corpse, still sloshing gently inside its gooey throne like an oversteeped tea bag, straightens with solemn regality. "President Jelly Boy…" it intones, "…I shall watch over the Hive in your absence. Thank you… for the gift of enlightenment." Then it sinks back into the throne, crown askew, expression become slack and lifeless once more.

I glance down again at Jelly Boy. He wobbles proudly.

"You know," I whisper, "I think you've created some sort of slime cult. You're basically their Jesus… Jelly Jesus."

Jelly Boy burbles in agreement.

Then Tom, Jax, and Other Tom give a little synchronized wiggle and begin sliding-and-slipping out the cavernous room and down the tunnel, a faint trail of glistening residue left behind like a triplet of snail trails.

"Right," I mutter. "Tunnel time."

I pick up Jelly Boy and follow, hunched under the low ceiling, dragging the light orb behind me with a mental tug. My boots squish through goo-paved pathways.

As we walk, I pop the Stamina potions. The liquid hits my tongue and tastes like expired energy drink. It burns all the way down, but I feel the tingle kick in immediately. I trail our three escorts with a little more pep in my step as my Stamina bar refills in the corner of my HUD.

After what feels like a dozen minutes, the slimes stop. One of them—Tom, I think, though frankly they all look identical, especially down in this dark ass tunnel—wiggles at what I realize is a metal grate built into the stone overhead.

I nod, crack my knuckles, and punch it. The metal squeals and flies off. Black sand spills through the hole, cascading into the tunnel like we just ruptured an hourglass.

I climb through, followed by the squish-squad. The moment my head pops up above ground, the crisp air slaps me with fresh mountain cold and the electric hum of Storm Essence still bleeding off the battlefield.

We're back in the nesting grounds.

"Okay," I breathe, brushing grit off my face. "Time to catch up with the others."

I cast Locate Ally, letting the magic ping outward like sonar. My minimap flickers to life.

I see Jelly Boy at my side—a small, white dot. Beyond that? Nothing.

My stomach flips. That's weird. There's no way they could have gotten out beyond the range of the Spell. Especially with the state Veronica was in. They would have been moving slower. Much slower.

I glance at Jelly Boy, who looks up at me with confused eyes.

I grind my teeth and cast the Spell again, this time pumping more Stamina into the spell, pushing it harder with the help of [No Pain, No Gain]. My muscles flex and spasm as the Skill triggers, siphoning just enough Stamina and Health to fuel about double the range of the Spell when normally cast.

The minimap updates, zooming out. Jelly Boy's white dot shrinks.

Two blinking red dots appear further out, near the base of the mountain. In the opposite direction I expected to see them heading. Back towards the City, and not in the direction of the Gobblin Factory.

My stomach twists into painful knots as I examine the blinking red dots.

[Clyde]

[Current Health: 0]

[Under the effect of multiple status conditions.]

[Veronica]

[Current Health: 0]

[Under the effect of multiple status conditions.]

"...Oh. Fuck."

I feel cold, a dreadful clamminess flooding my pores.

Veronica and Clyde are in serious trouble.

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