Archive Of Potentialities.

Short Story: Of Slime and Blood -- 11.5 -- When Nature thinks.

Y'all should munch on this while I cook up the next chapter.  It's basically about what Martin will go through after Rimuru's....idk, actions?

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I.

I was a frail flower, swaying in the polar winds. I could not see, but I could feel, perceive.

The soil that gave me life, the water that flowed through my xylem, the slow but steady decline of my natural processes as I succumbed to the throes of winter. And then, I felt it come to an abrupt end as I was plucked by what I perceived as human appendages.

And then, I was a tree standing in the southern forests, tall and strong. I could feel the support I provided to the life around me. The coarse scratching of birds’ feet, the mushrooms sprouting from the crevices in my large roots, the ferns that shot forth from within my trunk, preparing to find new life within the soil below.

I could feel the gentle sway of my leaves in the wind, the snake that wound itself around one of my branches. I could perceive my connection with the fundamental laws that governed the relationship between life and mana, and I felt — can I harness this?

How could I apply this?

The spirit of research overtook me, only to be crushed soon after by the cruel reality of my current state. A mere observer.

And then, I was no longer a tree.

I was the grass on the vast plains, jovial and soft. I could feel the ants marching below me, I could perceive the field mice sprinting through the verdant labyrinth, I could feel myself bend under the influence of drops of dew.

I could also feel the massive collection of negative energy —- Ichor —- lying just beneath me. I could interact with it without running the risk of corruption.

And I thought —- this is a great chance! I can finally understand that which has eluded Magia! I can finally comprehend the existence of demonic races like Vampires and the like!

But then, the excitement was gone, tempered by my inability to do more than feel, perceive and contemplate.

And then I was the grass no more.

I was a cloud, drifting along the skies. I could feel the freezing temperatures around me, I could observe as my weight accumulated over the course of days.

And then I could feel the temperature rise slightly, I could feel my weight reduce as my existence drifted to the ground below in the form of flaky snow. I could feel my fleeting nature, but I could also perceive the world anew.

So this is how mana interacts with the atmosphere..so this is why the false moon is so alluring to those of talent, despite the obvious danger it carries.

But this time…the urge to examine and experiment eluded me.

I was well aware of the futility of it all.

How many times has it been? How many times have I been a flower, a tree, a field of grass and a fleeting cloud?

How many times have I been confronted with my nihilistic state of existence?

How many times have I touched the surface only to be abruptly blocked off?

I don't want to feel anymore.

‘This is enough.’ I pleaded.

But like a tree, like a flower, like grass, like a cloud that never retains its form…

There was no one to hear me.

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Welp, that's it.

Totally unrelated, read LOTM🔥🔥 It's really peak.